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murdrdocs · 1 year

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fully charged | f. odair

description. a grueling week spent in the arena where you thought about two things, survival and finnick odair, has come to an end, leaving you to make your way back to finnick's arms to finish what you both started.

aka part 2 to saber tooth

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, reader has hair to wash, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (don't do this irl), fingering, super soft finnick, brief mention of trauma from the games, finnick loves consent ! (so do i), switches pov for a line but don't focus on that okay focus on the sex, not proofread but its 3 am

a/n: i stayed up super late to finish this and i didn't do my homework so don't ever say i never do anything for yall (i wasn't gonna do my work anyway and i was gonna stay up but shh). title from disco tits by tove lo

word count: 5.0k+

Blood on your hands, a headache that makes your ears ring and your vision spin, a simultaneous feeling of indescribable hunger and tear-inducing nausea, but the only thing on your mind is Finnick.

The Capitol airlift coming to the area was quick, and you’d never been happier to leave somewhere. You don’t look down at the open meadow that you’d spent the last days in. You look up into the jet, both joyed and disappointed to see the nurses and medics who awaited you.

Hours of injections and force feedings and encouragement to sleep later, and you were finally closer to Finnick than you had been in the last week.

The little notes he sent through sponsored care packages gave you the strength to make it out of there, and now that you are out, just the thought of seeing him is what keeps you on your feet.

“And everyone is so thrilled to have you back. There is a feast planned later tonight, and another for when you get home to Four, and of course a housewarming party to get you settled into the Village,” Mitch, your escort, rambles on as he leads you through the train cars, all the way to your personal area. Through each car that you walk through, your eyes scan the area for the golden blonde boy that you’d been happiest to see. And when you come up empty again and again, your heart feels as if it shrinks.

“But first, you need a shower. No offense,” Mitch smiles, his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to face the bathroom.

“None taken,” you mumble. Truth be told, you had more things on your mind to worry about other than how you smelt. The sound of Mitch’s dress shoes clacking against the floor announces his intended departure, but you turn around to stop him before he can leave.

“Yes, dearie?”

“Do you know where Finnick is?” The train hadn’t started moving yet, you were still at the Capitol’s station, so if Finnick were not aboard yet there was still time for him to join.

“Um, no.” Mitch looks disappointed by his own answer. “He said he had business to take care of and he might be traveling home with us. But I do not know for sure.”

Mitch’s answer leaves you with an intense feeling of loneliness, but you push it down as you make your way to the bathroom.

The shower is hotter than it needs to be, but the sting on your skin is welcomed. You scrub along your body with the exfoliating cloth until it’s visibly irritated, and even then, you continue a few more times. Images of the arena attempt to surface, a knot in your throat with each memory and self-deprecating thought that accompanies it, but you push it down with another pump of shampoo and you wash it away with the suds.

You’re on your third round of washing your hair whenever the whirring sound of the door to the bathroom opening meets your ears.

You stop rinsing, your eyes opening to look out around you. An unusual thick cloud of steam clouds the pristine area, you squint as you attempt to see who, or even what, has entered.

You come up short. Not knowing who was there makes you anxious and you regress into the thought process that you’ve become well acquainted with.

Your eyes scan the spacious shower, looking for something sharp. There’s nothing to defend yourself with, which means you’ll have to rely on your hands. Quickly, you rinse them in the running water, getting rid of the suds, and then you reach out to pull the shower door open.

“Hello?” you ask, your voice stronger than it would have been if you were in this predicament 7 days ago.

It’s silent for a few seconds, then a breath is heard, followed by a smooth timbre.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Finnick.

He stands in the corner of the bathroom, just out of sight from where the shower had you angled. His back is turned, leaving you to see the linen of his shirt and the dark-honey blonde of the bottom of his hair as his head is bowed. You want nothing more than to see his face.

Your foot reaches out to meet the plush rug, but you stop when the cool outside air enters the shower and you’re reminded that you’re naked, wet, and your hair is nowhere near presentable. But in the grand scheme of things, none of that matters.

So you step out of the shower, your feet sinking into the plush rug and your heart banging against your chest, and a smile reaches your face when you say, “Finnick.”

His head turns first, then his body, and you’re met with the sea-green eyes that you’ve thought about every night since that night. His eyes stay on your face, even though you’re completely nude.

You barely feel any shame or insecurity.

“Hey,” he says again, his pretty pink lips pulling into his own smile.

“Hi.”

There’s a few moments of serene silence, both of you just taking in the presence of the other, and then Finnick makes the move to cross the room.

His hands lift and his palms find the wet skin of your cheeks. He smiles. He blinks. Then he moves in.

When Finnick kisses you, it’s like nothing else in the world even exists. The entire Universe in that moment is just you and Finnick, two people who have always existed together. Nothing else.

His lips gently pull from yours, but he doesn’t go far, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s good to see you again,” he tells you.

“I’ve missed you,” you tell him.

He smiles. “I’ve missed you too.”

Finnick lets you finish cleaning up. He was going to leave the bathroom, but when you asked him to stay, your eyes welled up with tears and your voice cracked and he wanted to stay anyway, so he planted himself right outside of the shower then.

It takes a while for you to get ready, you spent most of the time scrubbing dirt out from under your fingernails and trying to scrub out the stench that permeated inside of your nose, but dinner was delayed for you, and no one complained. It’s when you were sitting at the table, eating food that was somehow still warm, with Finnicks hand on your knee and proud and sympathetic looks from your stylist and escort, that you realize that things are going to revolve around you for a while.

A nightmare plagued sleep on the train, a welcome party at the station in Four, a housewarming party in a renovated mansion in the Victors Village, another dress from your stylist, and a large dinner with friends you haven’t considered friends in years, with your family and Finnick in attendance.

And now you’re alone again.

Not exactly alone. Finnick’s sitting outside of your new bathroom, waiting for you, which is as alone as you’re going to get for a while.

Your makeup is gone, you’re out of the dress and into a pair of comfortable pajamas, and there’s a nervous anticipation in your chest. Not the kind of nervous anticipation that you’d felt in the area, but the kind that you felt last week when Finnick came to visit.

The kind where you hoped that something sentimental was going to happen soon, and as you pull the door open and come face to face with Finnick who sits at the edge of your bed, you knew that something sentimental was going to happen.

“Hey,” he scoots over to make room for you.

You take the space beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hi.” His shoulder works as a comfortable pillow, which you’d dreamed of for many nights when you only had grass as an actual pillow. . “Are you planning to stay here tonight?” You lift your eyes to look at him, a fluttery feeling spreading all over your body when you see that he was already looking at you.

He blinks, his tongue moistens his lips. “If you’d like me to.”

You hum. “I would.”

“What would I do?”

A shrug from you. “Help me settle in.”

“Oh so you’re using me staying as an excuse to have me kill bugs, chase out mice, dust the corners.”

You laugh. It feels good to laugh.

“Maybe.” Your shared laughter dies down and a still silence places itself over the room. You stare ahead, take a deep breath, and say, “And to keep me warm.”

Finnicks hand snakes around your waist, cupping the outside to pull you flush into his side. His lips are against the crown of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can feel them move when he assures you. “That’s what I’m best at.”

There’s a bit of silence that you use to turn yourself to fully face Finnick. His hand gravitates to your lower back with the movement.

He stares at you expectantly, and you smile gently. “Thank you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrow. “For?”

A small shrug from you. “Keeping me alive … in there. And for being my best friend and so much more that I can’t think of right now.”

Both of Finnick's hands cup your cheeks and his forehead knocks into yours, then his nose, then his lips.

He kisses you softly, pressing a single kiss into your parted lips, the two pairs molding and sticking together as if they were always meant for each other. You melt into the second kiss, thankful to get to feel this again. A thought arises within you, one that details you and Finnick getting to do this for the rest of your lives, no longer plagued with the thought of being reaped. If that’s something he also wants.

The kiss is nice, but it’s also not quite what you want.

You communicate that by tilting your head, letting your hands meet the back of Finnick’s head, and scooting yourself closer.

Finnick mimics your new found ferocity, but it seems like he’s still not getting it. You push your chest into his, you slide your hands down his torso, letting them rest on his abdomen, and then he pulls away and furrows his eyebrows.

Now he’s getting it.

“Are you sure? Are you ready?”

You can feel the touch of his hand on your lower back getting lighter as if he’s anticipating your denial. But you nod, no hesitance behind the movement, and since you know he’s going to want to hear it verbally, you part your slick lips and say, “I’m sure. And I’m ready.”

Finnick has you on your back in the center of your bed quickly. You’re still fully clothed, but obviously not for long with the way his large hand is roaming under your shirt. The other rests beside your head, pressed into the pillow and keeping him afloat above you.

You can feel the ghost of his knee between your parted legs and he’s too far away. You need him closer. You need his chest against yours instead of a few inches away, you need his knee pressed against your center, you need his entire being to become fused with yours.

There’s no way for you to communicate that when he’s kissing you so hard that you consider the possibility that your lips would bruise. Not that you’re complaining one bit.

Finnick pulls away from your lips to press kisses into your jaw and neck, where he switches from simple kisses to sucking actual bruises into your skin. The feeling of his lips sucking the skin and his teeth nipping stings, not in the way an ant bite does, but in the way that has your back arching and you feel the scratch of the linen of Finnick’s shirt against the cotton of yours.

You let out a breath, not meaning for it to sound as much of a moan as it does, but Finnick’s lips curl up against your skin. He presses a final, chaste kiss into the bruise that you know to be forming, and he leans back to give you a full look.

“Can you take this off for me?” His hands tug at your shirt once.

You nod, sitting up to fill the space that Finnick makes by leaning back, and you swiftly pull the shirt over your head. For the sake of comfort, you’d opted out on a bra tonight, and the decision is clearly thanked by Finnick.

He’s staring, marveling, at your bare chest, taking in the sight. You know the way he’s looking at you is a good sign, but you can’t help but feel a little insecure, something in your mind telling you to cover up. Your hands twitch at your sides to make the move to your chest, but then Finnick’s speaking.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says it like he means it. There’s something in you, the same thing that tried to convince you to cover up, that tells you that he doesn’t mean it. He’s just saying it in the heat of the moment.

But your better judgment comes into play then and it notices that Finnick’s tell still isn’t there. He’s still telling the truth.

You smile, just a little bashful, and reach to tug at the end of Finnick’s shirt.

“Even the playing field, Odair.” He does as you say, his hands finding the neck hole of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing it off the side of your bed.

Then his lips are back on your skin, kissing at your collarbone and steadily moving down your chest. He’s just pressing little kisses along your skin, not staying in one place too long, but the anticipation swims low in your stomach and makes you push your chest up into the air, waiting for Finnick to hopefully reach the destination you want him to go to.

When he does, when his lips wrap around your nipple, you sigh blissfully.

He gives the bud the same treatment that he delivered onto your neck, sucking and nipping, just a tad more gentle. All the while, his sea-green eyes stare up at you, gauging your reaction, seeing if he’s doing the right or the wrong thing.

Your face is one of nothing but pleasure, mouth parted, eyes closed, eyebrows pinched together with enough tension to tell him that he’s doing right, not wrong.

He switches to the other bud, and his hand trails down to the elastic waistband of your pants. Your hips wiggle, impatience finding you quickly, and then his hand slips past the elastic and his middle finger nudges between your clothed folds.

You shiver, a quiet mewl escaping past your lips. Your sounds only increase in volume when Finnick adds his ring finger and works then up and down your slit, circling them at your clit when they reach that point, and then working their way back down and teasing your hole.

When Finnick’s warm mouth detaches from your hardened bud, the cool air hits it and sends goosebumps onto the finest layer of your skin like a wave. They multiply when he speaks.

“You’re so wet, darling,” His fingers trail back up to circle your clit languidly, not fast enough to give you any real satisfaction, but enough to let you know that they’re there. “‘S all for me?” He’s teasing, pulling your leg, because who else would it be for?

The corner of his lips pull up into a smirk, confirming your suspicions, and you mean to say something equally as teasing back, something that would make his smile drop.

But your mouth works faster than your brain.

“Of course, Finn. Always all for you.”

He swears under his breath, his fingers stopping right on the hidden nub. He blinks, inhales, then fixes his gaze on your expectant one.

“You really mean that?” His hand flexes beside your head and you turn your head, your eyes fixed on him, and press a kiss into his forearm.

“I do.”

Finnick has your pants and panties off and thrown to the opposite side of your bed so quickly that you barely have time to process it. You only start to process how bare you are whenever his thick fingers come back to your center and this time, you feel them.

You feel the rough skin of his finger pads, the way they glide through your slick, toy with your clit, then sink down to begin to probe at your entrance.

You let him, your legs falling open even more when his middle finger sinks in to the first knuckle. He glances at you before he continues, and you’re in a state of bliss already, so he continues until the deft digit is sheathed completely inside your walls.

Finnick only fucks you with the single finger for a few moments, then you’re reaching down and wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing your hips into his hand, silently telling him that you want more.

So he adds another.

He curls them, reaches them deep inside of you, searches for the spot that he’ll memorize for minutes from now when you get the real deal.

His watchful eyes search your reactions, too. He watches the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips and the way your lips part and how your eyebrows pinch together more and more until there. He finds it and your back arches off the bed and your hiss turns into a pretty cracked moan.

“Right there?” he asks for confirmation.

“Right there.”

You feel lips kiss your inner thigh and then Finnick’s focusing on that spot a few more times, then he’s abandoning it. You hold in your disappointed sigh, but the feeling of Finnick separating his fingers, scissoring you open, is one that’s greatly welcomed as a replacement.

You gasp, moan, your back arches, your nails dig into the sheets. Finnick’s other hand goes to your clit, rubbing little circles. “Holy shit, Finn.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Better than my own.”

An image of you in a similar position, but with your own hands between your legs and not Finnick’s, flashes in his mind and is that a sight to see.

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

You nod, expecting Finnick to work you harder, faster, to guide you to the edge. He does the exact opposite.

He pulls his fingers away from your cunt and your eyes open, staring down at him with bewilderment written all over your face.

“You still want me to fuck you?” His eyebrows raise.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay then.”

You watch him stand, slip his pants and boxers off, and you shamelessly stare at his dick, propped up on your elbows for an unobstructed view.

The way it sits so prettily, erected, reaching right at his abdomen. Flushed the same pink as his lips at the head, leaking a picturesque drop of precum. You could just sit and marvel at Finnick’s cock for a while longer than you’re given. But he bends down to search the pockets of the pants he came in, and swears when he doesn’t find what he needs.

“What? What is it?” You think you know what it is but you’re really hoping you don’t.

Finnick stands straight again and looks at you, obviously dejected. “No condoms.”

Fuck.

You’re silent, attempting to think of a solution.

“I could just go to mine, it's right next door, you know. I’ll be quick.”

He could. But you truthfully don’t care at this moment.

You’re sure there has to be some sort of morning after preventative that you could get your hands on now that you're Victor, and Finnick looks so appetizing just standing there, there’s no way you would be able to survive the few minutes that you would have to sit there without him.

“I don’t care if you don’t.” Your admission has his eyes widening just a bit, then his eyebrows furrowing and his face scrunching into one of slight worry.

“Are you sure? This isn’t something lighthearted.”

You nod. “I’m sure. There’s a preventative out there, right?” He thinks for a second, then nods. “Then I’m sure.”

Finnick climbs back onto the bed, wraps one hand around his cock and the other around the outside of your thigh. He glances at you, “Just relax, okay?”, and then back at your cunt when you nod.

He lines himself up and your immediate reaction is to tense up, but you take a breath, and relax, and then he breaches.

It’s painful, not in the way that you’ve felt pain just days ago, but in a stinging way. You can feel yourself stretching around him, allowing him in, and every few inches he stops to remind you to breathe.

You feel like his member is endless, there always seems to be more and more, but he’s almost there now, home stretch, but you don’t know that until he tells you.

“Breathe with me, sweetheart. ‘M almost there,” he says, his eyes locking into yours as he takes a deep inhale, nodding when you mirror the action, then he slowly exhales. When you do the same, he slides all the way in until you can feel the base of his dick pressed against your mound.

When he’s all the way in, the curls at the base of his dick tickling you, you’re able to focus on how good it feels to have Finnick Odair’s dick nestled inside of your walls. The stretch is addicting. Your head’s spinning, your mouth salivating, and you just know that you’re gonna be addicted after this.

Now that he’s situated within you, Finnick brings his forearm back to push into the pillow beside your head. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then to your lips when you turn your head.

“Let me know when it’s okay to move, okay?”

You nod. “You can move.”

Finnick seems a little unsure, but your hips wiggle and you moan and he takes your word for it.

He starts slow, pulling out halfway then pushing back all the way in. You’re so receptive, little breaths and moans leaving your lips and immediately meeting his ears. He relishes in the sounds, the auditory display of satisfaction going right down to his groin, encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

He starts to pull out more, inch by inch, and push back in with more force. There’s no way for you to describe the feeling you’re in other than euphoric. For a second, you search your brain for descriptors, ways you can put the feeling to words for when you think about it later on, but you come up so short and Finnick is making you feel so good that you forget what you were thinking about in the first place with the next thrust.

“Doing okay?”

“More than okay, Finn.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” He lifts his face to level it with yours, green eyes staring at you, watching you get lost in his gaze and blink yourself awake multiple times. “You can do it, baby. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

Is he reading your mind?

“You’re an asshole.” He laughs.

“That’s no way to treat the guy making you feel this good, is it?”

He tilts his head, waiting for your response. You shake your head, back to being fucked out, and Finnick decides to let you off the hook for now.

He leans down, pushing his lips to yours and letting you sloppily kiss him while his hips rock into yours.

You didn’t think there was a way that you could feel better than this, but Finnick shifts his hips when he pulls out, then he pushes back in with more assurance and confidence and he finds that same spot and your back arches, your chest pushing into his.

“That’s it,” Finnick coos, either talking to himself or you, you’re not really sure. Either way, you still nod.

The linen sheets rub at your back, the crisp pillow cover crinkles with each thrust that sends you up the bed a little more, you can feel your pussy leaking around Finnick. You can smell him, a mix of the smell of the sea and a musk that is so unique to him that you want the scent to live permanently in your nose.

Your eyes are open, somehow, and you’re watching Finnick. The way the vein in his head pops out every so often, how his tanned skin looks in the low light of your bedroom, the way sweat reflects off of his forehead and a bead looks as if it’s going to trickle down and land onto your tit. You watch it, lost and mesmerized by everything that is Finnick Odair, and when it lands on your chest you just feel like he’s giving you even more of himself.

You want to give him more of you, too, but you don’t know how. Not here, in this position, with this hazed state of mind, so you do what you can. You dig a hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the strands with just enough tension, and you arch your back from the lowest point, pushing your hips further into him.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. One of a kind.” His hips are starting to speed up a bit, getting a little sloppier too if you really focus. But all you can focus on is the slight rasp in his voice when he praises you. “Don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this pussy after this. Don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave you.”

You know what he means. You’ve known Finnick most of your life, long enough to be able to read between lines that sometimes aren’t even there. You know what he means.

You keen, the sound a little embarrassing but not enough for you to reflect on the thought for more than a second.

“‘M close, Finnick.” You can feel it low in your belly, burning, begging for your attention. This build up feels different from the last, a little more urgent, maybe. A little more prevalent.

This build up has you desperately chasing after it, terrified that you won’t catch it, that it’ll somehow slip past your grasp and you’ll be left unsatisfied. You know you don’t have to worry about that when Finnick’s the one making you feel so good.

The hand on your thigh inches towards your core, his thumb singling out and connecting with your clit. It only takes a few tight circles and a few more expert thrusts for you to fall over the edge, your legs lifting, hooking behind Finnick’s back to keep him close to you. Not like he was planning to go anywhere.

He feels so good like this, fucking you through your orgasm. You don’t want him to pull out, but you know he should. You know he has to. He tells you as much.

“Squeezing me so hard, sweetheart. Fuck, I gotta … gotta pull out.” You really, really, don’t want him to, but you let your legs drop and Finnick pulls out and his hand wraps around his lubed up dick, pumping a few times and then he’s spilling warm spurts of cum over your tummy.

You watch your stomach rise and fall rapidly with your breaths, the white substance glistening against your skin. Finnick watches it too, then he’s coming back for more kisses.

These are a little less sloppy, a little more gentle, a little more loving.

You feel yourself slipping out of it as he kisses you, your lips a little less receptive with each passing moment. Finnick notices and he pulls back, leaving you with one more chaste kiss before he’s leaving the bed and the sound of his feet on your hardwood lets you know that he’s moving towards your bathroom.

You don’t bother opening your eyes, you just listen to the sound of the closet door opening, the sound of running water starting and stopping, more feet against hardwood, then you feel the bed dip with Finnicks weight.

You flinch, then giggle, when the towel rubs at your inner thighs and then your stomach.

Finnick giggles with you, and you feel so domestic, so loved and cared for.

You peek your eyes open, watching the way he gently cleans you up. As if he feels eyes on him, he lifts his gaze, and smiles, dimples on display.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Am I still invited to spend the night?”

You pretend to think, but you’re too tired to even do that.

“If you make me breakfast in the morning,” you settle on, your hands under the folded back sheets of your bed.

You slip under the sheets and you watch Finnick carelessly throw the towel off to the side of the bed. Your mouth falls open. “And clean that up,” you add.

Finnick doesn’t bother responding. He just climbs to the top of the bed, slips under the covers with you, and pulls you to his chest with a kiss to your head.

Cuddled up with Finnick is a feeling you know you could get used to, and you hope you’ll be able to. You try not to think about how fleeting this could be. Instead, you force yourself to be optimistic, focusing on the riches you now have, and the beautiful home that’s on the beach and next to your best friend, and the way he’s holding you so securely to his chest, and the peaceful sleep that’s begging to be welcomed into the equation.

You decide to count it in, nestling even further into Finnick’s warmth and closing your eyes.

They immediately reopen and squint at the corner to the left of your bed.

“Finnick,” you whisper, continuing when he hums. “There’s a bug in the corner.”

“Where?”

You lift a finger, pointing to where it is. “Right there.”

Finnick sighs and stands.

“And pick that towel up while you’re at it please.”

#finnicksworld!#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #celeste writes thg #the hunger games smut #the hunger games

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lizhaoyu · 3 months

Text

Why so shy? PART 2

(A/N): Hello, gaymers. I'm back at it again. Sorry for the late update, I've been busy malding in VALORANT lately. Thank you for all of the support in part 1, it means the world to me. Now, some of the things here are referenced to that one casual Iso fic. Huge thanks to whoever wrote that, I'm in love with that fic. I physically gagged and cringed at the part where I made the reader channel their idk to do sum shit I can't do this. Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.)

(I also accept requests, please request about Iso)

(Iso x Shy!GN!Reader)

Part 1

Part 2 (You are here.)

Part 3

Nervous.

That's exactly what you were feeling right now.

Not nervous for yourself, but for Iso.

Today marks the day of Iso's first ever mission in the VP. To your advantage, you were assigned as Iso's lead comms.

You were busying yourself with taking breathing exercises in KJ's command room.

Iso was gonna be hearing your voice, following your orders and intel, counting on you to tell him what to do at the right moment and he's probably gonna fall inlo-

A knock on the metal door of the command room broke your trail of thought. It opened, revealing Iso.

"Hey." Iso walked in with a small smile, nodding to you.

You look up from the mission brief that Brimstone gave you and look at Iso. This time, you actually managed to train yourself to try and not stutter in front of Iso. You're not exactly there yet, but you're trying your best.

"Hi, Iso. Ready for your mission?" You offer him a small smile, feeling a little nervous for him and his safety.

"Yeah. I made sure to read the brief at least five times." Iso nods.

"Better safe that sorry." You smile, typing in the last command needed to start the mission.

"Right, uh... I just wanted to say that I wish you a very good luck on your first mission." You try to smile despite your nervousness.

"Thank you, but... I don't understand why I have to do this mission alone." Iso sighs, shaking his head.

"Brimstone says that he thinks that you're strong enough to handle it yourself, but I think he just doesn't want to admit that everyone is busy with everything else, so they can't go with you." You stifle a laugh.

"But I agree with Brimstone, whether or not he thinks you're strong enough. Your abilities are really powerful and you handle yourself pretty well. I think you got this." You smile at him, trying your best to hide your blush.

"Thanks a lot for your encouragements, it helps a lot." Iso smiles.

"And our training sessions, too. They're really helping me improve." Iso adds.

That alone was enough to make your heart race faster than normal.

"A-Anyway, I'll be the lead, and only, comms for today's mission. If you have any questions, calling for backup, or need help locating the target, I can help." You explain, turning to the table behind you.

You carefully took an earpiece from the table, turning to Iso and offering it to him. He follows your gentleness, taking the earpiece with careful hands.

In the process, his fingers brushed against yours. It was enough to give you butterflies on your stomach.

"This is what we use to communicate to each other from great distances. You can talk to me or hear me through it." You explain, snapping out of your thoughts.

"We have two trackers on you. One on your phone that we requested you to add, and one on your earpiece. Although you can turn off your location trackers, I advise you not to, just in case." You smile at him, hoping he'd understand what you were trying to say.

"I got it. Thanks for explaining it to me." Iso nods, taking off his left earbud and replacing it with the earpiece.

You took note of his actions, observing him closely.

"By the way, if I did ask for backup later on..." Iso paused.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head with a smile.

"Since you said that everyone else is busy, will you come?" Iso asks.

IS HE IMPLYING SOMETHING????????? AM I JUST DELUSIONAL OR WHAT, you thought.

"W-Well, yeah. I'm still responsible for you and your safety, according to Brimstone." You nod, pushing the thoughts to the back of your head.

"I'm glad." Iso nods, smiling.

WHAT DOES THAT MEANNNNNNNNNNNN???, you thought.

"Can I only talk to you about anything related to the mission?" Iso asks.

"Not necessarily, as long as you're not in the middle of a gunfight." You shook you head.

"Great. Uh, one last thing." Iso rubs the back of his head.

"After my mission, do you think we can go out for hotpot? My treat." Iso smiles, looking at you.

WHATWHATWHAT OHMYGOD IS THIS REAL FUCKFUCKFUCK, your thoughts raced.

You had to take a moment to process what Iso just asked you. Was this some kind of prank? Maybe Phoenix told him to prank you? Was this just a friendly gesture-

"You okay? You don't have to say yes, or we can get different food. Anything you like will do." Iso smiles.

"I- No! Hotpot is fine... A-Anyway, yeah, we can go out after your mission as long as you come back unscathed." You nod, your face turning visibly red.

"Then, I'm looking forward to it." Iso smiles.

"A-Anyway... The jet should be ready to transport you to the mission site. You can head to the departure wing now." You look back to the screen.

"I'm going, then. Thanks for your help." Iso nods.

You look back at Iso and smiled.

"Good luck on your mission, Iso." You nod as Iso walked out of the room.

You turn back and sat on the chair, all while letting out a shaky sigh. Was it just a friendly gesture or something more?

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by Iso's voice in your earpiece.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Iso asked through the comms.

You snap back to reality and let out a small huff.

"Yeah, loud and clear." You nod to yourself.

"Right, thanks. I'm in the jet right now, heading to the location." Iso says.

"I got it. I'm writing the report for Brimstone right now." You reply, typing out a document.

After a moment of silence, Iso speaks up.

"Hey, when you first arrived in the VP, how was it?" Iso asks.

"Huh? Well... It wasn't really easy." You say, recalling back to your newbie days in the VP.

"I was kind of an outcast and everyone thought I was creepy and stuff." You shrug, still typing.

"Why's that?" Iso asked.

"Well, just like Omen and Fade, I have abilities related to shadows or darkness." You paused.

"I was really quiet and stuff, so some were afraid to even look my way, because I can just merge myself with their shadow without them knowing." You shrug.

"But hey, I managed. Omen became my very first friend. He understood me." You smile.

"Wow... Omen? That's kind of him." You hear Iso hum.

"How about your first mission? How did it go?" Iso asked.

"Back then, I had little to no control of my abilities. I was merging myself to shadows back and forth because I didn't know how to control it." You laugh.

"But I learned how to control it, thanks to Omen. He knew exactly how I felt and why, and he taught my how to control it, even if he can't control his own." You sigh.

"My first mission went really well because Brimstone paired me up with Omen. He was really helpful, teaching me how to defuse the spike." You explain.

"Anyway... How about you? How are you feeling? This is your first mission, after all." You ask.

"I was kind of hesitant when Brimstone first told me." Iso says.

"But when I found out that you're gonna work closely with me, I feel much better." You could almost hear Iso smiling. Wait, was that even possible?

You could feel your heart beating faster and your face turning red. Surely, he didn't mean it that way. Maybe it was just a friend thing?

"I think I can handle this mission." Iso continues.

You quickly shook off the lingering feeling.

"I'm sure you'll do great." You nod.

"By the way, what kind of milk tea do you like? Sorry, that was a random question." Iso chuckles.

"Me? Well, I like heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls." You paused for a moment.

"Jett and Phoenix often made fun of me for being so basic, but I think it's really good." You smile.

"What about you? What do you like?" You ask.

"I actually like the same thing. I get it all the time." Iso replied.

"Whoa, really?" You smile.

"We have a lot of things in common, hey?" Iso says.

"That makes me really happy." Iso added.

It was starting to get hard trying not to think of this as a gesture of interest and not just for friends.

"Oh, we're landing now." Iso says.

"Be careful, Iso. You'll just need to eliminate the Omega Earth Radiants and defuse the spike if planted." You nod.

"You'll come if I ever need help, right?" Iso asked again.

"Yes, I will. Don't worry." You assure him.

"Okay, I'm heading out now." Iso says.

For the past hour, you've been helping Iso locate the enemies and giving him instructions. You watched his location attentively while writing a report, all while talking to Iso.

"Iso, there's one enemy left. Do you think you can defuse the spike until half?" You ask.

"Yeah, I think so. I'll try." Iso replies.

On the other end, you can hear Iso running to the spike. You heard beeping, which means that he was defusing now.

"Don't let your guard down. Don't rush, there's still plenty of time left." You remind him.

"Almost half, come on..." You hear Iso mutter.

A few seconds later you could hear a Vandal being fired, then Iso grunting.

"Iso?!" You stood up from your seat.

"Spike is half... I got shot on the shoulder..." Iso groans.

In the background, you can hear Iso firing his Sheriff, presumably at the assailant.

"Okay, okay... He's down, I can still defuse with my other hand..." Iso coughs, followed by the beeping sound again.

"Iso, listen to me. Just hold on and keep defusing, okay? I'm coming." You connect the comms to your phone, running out of the room.

"Really? You're coming...?" Iso asks, his voice low and pained.

"Yes, I'm on my way. Just a little longer, okay?" You ran to the departure wing, getting on the jet.

"I'll wait for you." Iso grunts.

"Keep talk to me, Iso. I need you to stay awake." You frantically went through the jet's storage for some medical equipment.

"Put some pressure on the wound to prevent excess bleeding. I'm on my way." You say, your voice shaky.

"Will we still go out for hotpot after this?" Iso asks, his voice low.

"Yes, I promise we will when you get better." You promised.

The jet hovered over the mission location. You shout for the pilot to open the door, as it'd take longer if you waited for the jet to land.

The door opens for you and you look out from it. Your eyes scanned the mission area from above, looking for any kind of shadow you can merge with. Once you do, you stepped back to prepare yourself to jump.

"I see a jet in the sky, is that you?" Iso asked, coughing.

"Yeah, it's me. I'll be with you soon." You breathe out shakily.

"What are you planning to do?" Iso asked.

But before you can answer, you dashed out of the jet. Your eyes locked onto the shadow of the building, preparing to channel your ability. You closed your eyes, letting your shadow take over.

In seconds, your body turned into a shadow-like orb, heading for the shadow of the building. Your body reached it immediately, merging with it. Once you did, you jumped away from it and ran to Iso.

"Iso! Hey, I'm here." You pant heavily, kneeling beside Iso.

"Hey..." Iso grunts, sitting up slowly. Beside Iso was the defused spike.

"Don't move, stay still. I'll do my best to help you, okay?" You mumble shakily.

How will you even do this? You weren't a healer, you weren't even trained for this. You look at Iso's pain expression and you knew you had to do something, anything.

You could make use of your abilities, the shadows. You remember what Omen told you, about how if you channel enough energy to your shadow, you could make it do what you desired. If you could do it, you could use them to absorb the wound, the pain and the bullet and save Iso.

Could that even work? Were you crazy? But you knew you had to try.

"Iso, listen to me." You hold his bloody hand shakily.

"This'll hurt a bit, okay? Do you trust me?" You squeeze his hand gently.

"I trust you." Iso nods.

"Stay with me." You mumble, letting go of his hand.

You place your hand over his wound and your other hand on your shadow. You close your eyes, channeling your shadow to your hand. You press your hand firmly on Iso's shoulder, your shadow entering his open wound, earning a pained hiss from Iso.

You focused your mind into commanding your shadow to absorb whatever it would have to absorb in order to heal Iso. You didn't know what you were doing, you were going crazy.

You let a few minutes pass, with your palm pressed on Iso's wound. You didn't know if what you did worked, but you were growing lightheaded.

pleaseworkpleaseworkpleaseworkpleasework, you chanted in your mind.

Once you feel your shadow disappear from your hand, you opened your eyes, slowly removing your hand from Iso's wound.

It was gone.

The would was no longer there, just the skin of Iso's shoulder through the hole of his hoodie. All that was left was Iso's blood.

"It... It worked..." You let out a shaky sigh, still not believing in what you did.

"What?" You hear Iso ask as he looks at his now-gone wound.

"It's gone? How did you..." Iso looked back at you.

"I don't know, I..." You mumble, looking at your shaking hands.

"No, I... It doesn't matter right now. Let's go back to HQ." You shook your head, shakily standing up.

"Can you stand? Do you need me to support you?" You offer your hand for him to take.

"I think I can." Iso nods, using his other hand to take your hand as you pulled him up.

"How did you do that? You never told me you could do that." Iso asked, looking at you in awe.

"I didn't even know that I could do that." You shook your head.

"Let's go back to the extraction point. I'll definitely need to write a detailed report about this..." You mumble, walking with Iso.

You and Iso walked for a few minutes, before finally arriving to the extraction point. You both got on the jet as it took off.

You plop down on the seat, still feeling a little lightheaded.

"Are you okay?" Iso asked, sitting beside you.

"I should be asking you that. How are you feeling? No more pain?" You sigh.

"I feel fine. It doesn't hurt anymore." Iso shook his head.

"Hey, thank you." Iso says.

It was enough to catch your attention, so you look at him.

"You came to save me, and I'm really thankful for that." Iso smiles.

"We can't have you dying on your first mission, Iso." You smile.

"But you hurried here, you tried your best to use your ability and ended up learning that you can actually heal me." Iso shook his head.

"Can I be honest with you?" You ask.

"I came to you despite knowing that I couldn't help at all." You admit.

"I had no medical experience and I wasn't anywhere near Sage's level." You sigh.

"But I still came to you. It was... an urge." You mumble.

"But now, I'm glad I came, after all. I learned a lot." You smile.

"I'm glad you came." Iso smiles.

After that, Iso was sent to the medic wing, where Sage checked Iso's health.

Brimstone informed you of this, so you went to check up on him for your hotpot with him later.

As you were about to slide the door open and walk in, you heard Iso talking with Sage.

"I'm glad you're okay, Iso." Sage says.

"Thanks a lot, Sage." Iso replied.

"Hey, do you think we can go out for milk tea later today?............" That was all you heard before your ears blocked out every other noise.

And here you thought that you were making progress. You really thought that Iso liked you back? Of course it was Sage.

You thought back to his interactions, how he'd look at her, how he'd call her his senior. But you were dumb and ignored all of it.

Now, here you were.

You had hoped for something when he talked to you earlier today, when he asked to go out for hotpot with you and only you.

Maybe it really was just a friendly gesture.

#iso valorant #iso x reader #valorant x reader #valorant iso #worksbynightowl

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

Text

The Lady - 2

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , -

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

Bucky leaned back in his chair, studying her reaction keenly. "I understand your concerns," he said, his tone surprisingly understanding. "But trust me, this is a business matter. We're not in the business of hurting innocent people."

"If someone died, I'd probably get deported," Bucky added casually, his tone belying the seriousness of his words.

"You're American too?" you blurted out, your voice tinged with disbelief. It was only now, under the stress of the moment, that you noticed Bucky's lack of a British accent.

"Yup. Just like you. So we have something in common," Bucky replied, his smile masking the underlying tension between you.

Leaning back in your chair, you feigned deep contemplation, buying yourself time to process the weight of Bucky's request. "After thinking thoroughly, it's not gonna happen," you finally declared, your words a thinly veiled refusal.

Bucky's easygoing demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine. Drawing closer, he rested both arms on Rupert's study table, his gaze piercing you unwaveringly.

"Your Grace, because of my friendship with Rupert, I'm giving you this last chance," Bucky declared, his voice low and commanding.

With a swift motion, he produced a business card from his suit pocket and slid it across the table towards you. "I'll be waiting for your call."

As he retreated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping over you. The stakes had never been higher, and you knew that the choices you made in the coming days would shape the course of your future in ways you couldn't yet comprehend.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket as you surveyed the room, your eyes landing on the familiar photos adorning the walls.

Among them, a small picture frame caught your attention, capturing a moment frozen in time: you and Rupert, smiling at a polo game.

Your voice faltered as you addressed the silent figure in the photograph. "Why did you choose me?" you whispered, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. "Dad."

Feeling lost and overwhelmed, you pondered your next move. Should you confront your mother, who seemed to have kept secrets hidden all along?

Or seek answers from the twins, who had already distanced themselves from the burden?

After careful consideration, you decided to turn to your childhood friend, Eddie, for guidance. With a sense of determination, you grabbed the car keys and set off for Halstead estate, hoping that Eddie might offer some much-needed clarity in this sea of uncertainty.

As you stepped onto the familiar grounds of Halstead estate, memories of summers past flooded your mind. Despite the initial awkwardness of being left behind by your mother, the warmth of Eddie's family soon enveloped you in a sense of belonging.

The memories of summers spent here flooded back. Your mother left you behind, as the twins didn't want you to join the holiday. So, your mom left you here since Eddie's manor was closer to you.

Initially awkward, but it became enjoyable with Freddie always cracking jokes and Eddie, the adventurous one.

Reminiscing about fishing trips, horseback riding, and clay shooting, you couldn't help but smile at the fond memories made in this idyllic setting.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see Freddie, Eddie's brother, approaching with open arms. Despite the passage of time, Freddie seemed unchanged, his jovial spirit shining through.

"Y/N! Come here. Give me a hug."

You embraced him. It had been 15 years, and he seemed different, almost radiant.

Freddie said, "I'm sorry about Rupert. I lost my dad last year too."

You replied, "I'm sorry too."

"So, it's obvious you're not here for me. You want to see Eddie?" Freddie asked.

"I am," you confirmed.

"He just finished a conversation with a guest. Let me take you there," Freddie offered, leading the way.

When you walked into the study room, you heard an elegant female voice saying, "I'll give the info later."

As she walked out, you noticed her stylish demeanor and sensed a mysterious aura around her. There was a hint of leadership in her presence, but what struck you as odd was the faint smell of weed lingering in the air.

She smiled at you before departing.

"I didn't expect you to come here so soon," Eddie remarked with a smile as you turned to face him. Seated in a leather chair, he exuded the air of a true duke.

"I didn't know where else I could go," you replied.

Freddie cleared his throat. "I'll leave you two alone."

Eddie offered you a seat and poured a drink, which you gratefully accepted.

"I heard you got the title. Congrats," Eddie said, raising his glass in a toast.

You chuckled softly. "The title is useless when all I've got is debt."

Eddie fell silent for a moment. "I went through a similar situation myself. What kind of problem are you having right now?"

"Do you know Bucky Barnes?" you asked.

Eddie clicked his tongue in response.

Crossing your arms, you continued, "So you know him. That means you knew about my stepdad's weed business."

Eddie leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rupert got into the business earlier than me," he began, his tone reflecting a mix of resignation and regret. "The woman you saw before is Susie Glass."

"He had a business with her," Eddie continued, his voice tinged with disapproval.

You clenched your jaw, the realization sinking in.

"I didn't know much about the details, but your father was on the list that worked with the Glass," Eddie explained, his expression troubled.

"He wanted out," you interjected, your voice firm with determination.

Eddie nodded grimly. "And that's where Barnes came in. He's a syndicate, setting up a branch in the UK from New York. His business was unique and deadly."

The dimly lit study seemed to take on a more sinister atmosphere as Eddie spoke, shadows dancing across the walls like flickering flames. The air was tense, each word carrying the weight of unspoken truths and hidden dangers.

"Rupert owes Barnes 8 million pounds," you stated, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Eddie hesitated for a moment before responding, his expression thoughtful. "That's..."

"I know, it's insane," you interjected, your voice tinged with frustration.

Eddie met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and determination. "I could pay off your debt," he offered quietly.

You recoiled slightly, taken aback by his proposal. "Then what? I'll still in debt. It never ends," you countered, a note of bitterness creeping into your voice.

You sighed, the weight of Rupert's decision heavy on your shoulders. "Why did Rupert choose me?"

Eddie nodded in understanding, his expression reflective. "I asked the same thing when my dad chose me instead of Freddie."

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked at him, prompting Eddie to chuckle softly. "Problem solver," he explained simply.

You nodded slowly, considering Eddie's words. "Both of us did join the military. Is it because we went through difficult situations?"

Eddie leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you. "Probably," he agreed, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "But I'm sure you could handle it. If not, I'll be here to help you."

A warmth spread through you at his words, and you felt a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you," you murmured gratefully, appreciating his caring demeanor.

You nodded firmly. "I've got all I need. I'll go now," you declared, trying to maintain composure as you turned to leave.

Eddie nodded in response. "Sure. I'll see you next time," he replied, his tone gentle and understanding.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a swirl of emotions inside, like a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and feelings. You tried to keep a cool facade, but deep down, your heart was racing.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched you go, a flicker of concern crossing his features. Then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Did she notice?" someone asked quietly.

Eddie glanced over, meeting the gaze of the speaker. "Not yet," he responded softly, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated the situation.

You drove for what felt like an eternity until you finally arrived back at your own manor. As you stepped inside, you noticed Hugo playing in the living room with Susan. Ignoring your mother, your focus was solely on your little step-brother.

You were just ten years old when you first met Rupert, and he had quickly become the best father figure you'd ever known. During the eight years you spent here, you learned to appreciate Rupert's love for his legacy and the history of the manor.

Sighing heavily, you knew you were about to make a risky decision.

Heading to Rupert's study again, you picked up Bucky's business card and dialed the number. After just two rings, his voice filled your ears. "I've been waiting for your call, Your Grace," he said smoothly.

Rolling your eyes at his confidence, you replied, "Just one job and you clear the debt?"

Bucky chuckled, his tone dripping with assurance. "It would be a big explosion. They'll think it's a terrorist attack. But no, Your Grace. Five small explosions, and we're done."

Bucky's voice crackled through the line, his tone both humorous and tinged with an unmistakable edge. "Think of it as fireworks, Your Grace. Except instead of pretty colors, we'll be making a statement."

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, the gravity of the situation juxtaposed with Bucky's nonchalant demeanor. "And what kind of statement would that be?" you asked, trying to match his casual tone.

"The kind that says, 'Don't mess with us,'" Bucky replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous charm. "We'll leave 'em scratching their heads and scrambling for cover."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't deny the thrill of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And you're sure this will work?" you inquired, a hint of skepticism creeping into your voice.

Bucky's confidence was unwavering. "Trust me, Your Grace. When it comes to making a scene, I'm the best in the business."

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fappinreborn · 4 months

Note

Hiya, new anon here. Really love your preggo control app fics. I’ve an idea for one if you’re interested…

Using the app to mess around with a heavily pregnant work colleague/boss (either someone they like / dislike, depending on what vibe you want to go for). Starting and stopping the labor throughout the day, accelerating and pausing it at inconvenient moments. The mother-to-be struggling through her hectic day of board meetings, interviews, client calls, trying not to push and give birth in her clothes in front of all these people (but she does)

Pregnancy Control Part 4: Workaholic

After the date that turned into a car birth, the girl hasn't talked to me yet. I had a feeling that she may have rejected me, but since the answer is still uncertain, I needed a distraction. Luckily, I know someone perfect for my next target.

I was browsing social media, saw a group photo of my old team on my feed, and noticed that my ex-boss's pregnant. She had always been a pain in a butt, micromanaging the team and myself, so I took it upon myself for a fun revenge.

I drove on the weekdays to my old office and the phone pinged me about my boss's status: Name: Clarisse

Pregnancy: 35 weeks, 3 days

Labor: Not yet (First contraction in 34 days, 2 hours, 10 minutes )

Babies: 1 (projected to be 7.5lbs)

Current Activity: Work

Birth plan: Hospital

I linked her up and began to work. As usual, first order of business is to bump her pregnancy to overdue and increasing the baby's size to 10lbs. She's not aware of the changes yet so next, I... entranced? suggested?... hypnotized her to focus on the work and ignore the birthing signs.

With the setting ready, I kicked off her labor... and went straight to the birthing process. She now feel the full brunt of the birthing pain and her own baby's coming down. But she's a trooper and pressed on, working to get calls and potential new clients.

I nudged a bit more and the baby's crowning now into her workpants. A bulge's forming between her legs and getting more visible as her body's pushing. As the head reached fully crowning, I finally paused her birth so she can "enjoy" that burning ring of fire.

This went on for a couple hours until she got a meeting with her superiors, the Board of Directors. Other people was noticing her... tiredness, but she brushed it off. The meeting was long and arduous and when it's time for her to speak, I set her to stand and present with the contraction picking up speed and slowly undo the hypnosis...

Soon enough, she broke free and screamed in front of the directors as the baby's head popped out, panicking as the baby's making a massive bulge between her legs. Before anyone's able to help her out, I made sure that the baby came out into her pant leg so that she fully birthed her baby into her pants.

I was... satisfied with the fun revenge, though I doubt she'll get fired over this.

Anyway, I came a lot and then got a ping from the control app, notifying me that a new feature has been added. I blinked a lot as I did not believe such a feature is possible, but the app has never been wrong so far.

The pregnancy control app is satisfied with the births and has awarded me the ability to give the pregnancy... to myself.

"This... this is gonna be fun." I said.

#birth kink #giving birth #labor kink #birth denial #panty birth #clothing birth #public birth #clothed birth #rapid pregnancy

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beyondthisdarkhouse · 9 months

Text

My mom comes over a couple of times a week to help me keep the apartment tidy and to body-double so I can focus on work.

"Mind if I open this?" she asked me this morning, holding up an envelope I'd tossed onto a pile of clutter the week before. I hadn't opened it because I already knew what it was—the decision of my appeal against being judged "medically ineligible" for permanent disability benefits, which are almost double what I get now and would cover rent and food. Absolutely everyone, from disabled advocacy groups to the legal aid lawyer who helped prep me for the hearing, told me that there was basically no chance I'd get deemed eligible on the first appeal. Normally it takes 2 or 3 application-appeal cycles (9-10 months each) for people to get into the program.

"Go ahead," I told her, and then turned back to other work. I've got a lot to do given how well my Kickstarter is doing, whether it's setting up the behemoth new printer I got off Kijiji for 10% of its original value, to scheduling work meetings with my newly-hired personal assistant. I've always got so much on my plate, and the number of hours in the day I can focus on it is countable on my hand that's missing fingers. And I'd love to get a sewing pattern out for my "just the sleeves, please" costume idea out in enough time for people to use it for Halloween, but I still need to make mock-ups and hire someone who's used to producing digital sewing patterns.

"I think," Mom said quietly, leafing through the letter, "that you won."

The letter ends like this:

Conclusion: The Panel finds that the Appellant meets the definition of "severe handicap" as is set out in the Regulation and therefore reverses the Director's decision.

Yeah. It means I won.

The benefits program will require another eight weeks to double-check my financial eligibility using information they already have, and to process my new program status to reflect an increased benefit rate and a different health insurance program.

Right now I'm really feeling this line from Komarr, by Lois McMaster Bujold: "But do you know--well, of course you could, but… the business with [throwing yourself at] the brick wall. Failure, failure was grown familiar to me. Comfortable, almost, when I stopped struggling against it. I did not know achievement was so devastating."

It felt like my whole life ended in a flaming wreck when I had to give up counselling. I lost part of who I was when I did that, and spent years telling myself I'd pull up my socks at any minute and go right back to it. But the truth is, I am not capable of doing that job as well as it needs to be done, and it's one of those jobs where you half-ass things at the peril of the vulnerable people who trust you.

And what if... the worst had happened, and I lost it all, and then in clawing my way out of the pit, trying to get purchase on absolutely any kind of survival I could, I found my way to something new and solid and real. What if it was okay after all?

I'm still having trouble believing it, but the letter keeps saying what it said.

I'm gonna go sew things, and see if it feels any more real in the morning.

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randomingoftherandomness · 4 months

Text

I needed 3 business days to process Episode 10 of Marry My Husband because HNNGH.

Na Inwoo if this is how you kiss in real life, I am gonna have a hard time believing that you aren't beating a horde of admirers off with a stick BECAUSE SIR IT HAS BEEN THREE BUSINESS DAYS AND I AM STILL THINKING ABOUT THIS

I am having a hard time reconciling the goofy, dorky, sweet and slightly simple personality I am used to seeing on 2 days 1 Night, with this man who gently cradles his lady's face AND KISSES LIKE A MAN DROWNING IN THE DESERT

That is all :)

#marry my husband #let me tell you i have a crush on this dude since i first saw him on Mr queen #BECAUSE BRUHHH #marry my husband? well damn. if that is the husband i gotta marry then let me be a wife

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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Unwanted: Chapter 2, Unwanted - Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: While on a mission with Steve, you two finally begin the process of healing and clearing the air between you.

A/N: This closes out Chapter 2! I have to say, I cannot wait to post Chapter 3; it's my personal favorite, and you'll see why soon enough! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, and I'm so grateful for all the likes, comments, and reblogs-- you don't know how much they mean to me! You guys are the greatest! <3

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp

When the Quinjet landed back at the Avengers’ Tower, Bucky was waiting for you in the landing bay. You'd only been gone for four days, but as soon as he saw you start down the gangplank, he ran to you, picking you up and spinning you in circles until you squealed.

"Buck! Put me down before I throw up on you!"

"Can't, Pocket," he said, though he did stop spinning you. "Missed you too much. Physically impossible to let you go."

Steve followed shortly behind you, rolling his eyes at his best friend's theatrics. "No love for your old war buddy, Barnes?"

Bucky laughed, finally putting you down to give Steve a brief, one-armed hug. "Glad you're back safe, too, Stevie," he said. "And thanks for bringing my Pocket home in one piece."

Steve pulled you close in a side hug, the earlier tension that had existed between the two of you having faded since you had a chance to clear the air. "You should be thanking her for bringing me home in one piece. The girl's deadly with plastic explosives."

You shoved him away from you playfully. "Please, Stevie," you teased. "If you just learned the first thing about computers, you could have done the whole mission on your own, you wouldn't even have needed me."

"Always gonna need you, Pocket," Steve said, ruffling your hair. "You're family." You gave each other stupid grins before he hefted his go-bag over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go grab a shower and get some sleep. I'll see you kids later." He walked off into the belly of the tower, leaving you and Bucky alone.

"Ugh, I can't wait to get out of this tac-suit," you moaned. "I always feel so filthy after a mission with explosives, you know?" Bucky gave you a curious look as he leaned down and grabbed your go-bag for you. "Such a gentleman," you smiled at him as you led the way back to your room.

You went straight into the bathroom and unzipped the top of your tac-suit, pulling it down over your arms until it was hanging from your waist. With a sigh of relief at being freed from the confines of the heavy poly-carbonate blended fabric, you washed your face and started brushing your teeth.

"So, how was the mission?" Bucky called from where he was sitting on your bed.

"Goo!" you managed to get out around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Good, good." He paused. "So, um, it's not really my business or anything, but did something happen... between you and Steve? While you guys were gone? Like, did you guys, I dunno... sleep together?"

You nearly choked on your toothpaste and quickly spat it out in the sink before coming out of the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," you said, pointing your toothbrush at him accusingly. "Did you just ask me if I had sex with Steve Rogers?"

He wouldn't look at you. "Like I said, it's none of my business. It's just that, before you guys left, you were always kind of, I dunno, angry at him? And then you get off the plane and you're hugging and he's got his hands in your hair and you’re calling him ‘Stevie’. So, I was just wondering if something happened."

"And your brain immediately jumped to us sleeping together?" You asked him, incredulous. He looked up at you. "Seriously? We just talked. Lanced some bad blood that had been festering between us since Berlin, so we can work on being good again, be a family again." You noticed he was staring at you, mouth slightly opened. "What?" you asked him.

He motioned vaguely toward your chest, and you looked down to realize your tac-suit was still hanging half off of you and you were standing in front of him in just a purple push-up bra.

"Oh for fucks' sake, Barnes. They're just tits." You stalked over to your dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and slipped it over your head. "Better now?"

He shook his head as if a spell had been broken over him. "Uh, yeah. So, you didn't sleep with Steve," he reiterated.

"No, I did not. To begin with, he's family. There's a major ick factor. And second--, no. That's really it. The idea is super gross."

"Good," Bucky chuckled. "I love Steve like a brother, but I didn't love the idea of sharing you with him."

You started shimmying yourself out of the pants of your tac-suit and tossed it into your hamper. "Yes," you deadpanned, "because you know how much I love being compared to an object that can be owned and thus shared among friends. Not emotionally triggering for me at all."

Bucky had the decency to look chastised. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Relax, Barnes," you teased as you stepped into and pulled up a pair of shorts. "I'm just giving you shit." You ruffled his hair. "I may be emotionally scarred and have more baggage than the cargo hold on an airplane, but at least I can laugh about it."

Bucky rolled his eyes at you, but there was a smile on his lips. "You're something else, you know that?"

You grinned at him. "I'd like to think so. Makes your life so much more interesting, don't you think?"

Bucky nodded in agreement. "Definitely. You're never boring, that's for sure."

You chuckled and flopped down on your bed next to him. "So, what about you? Any juicy drama while I was gone?"

"Hmmm, let's see..." Bucky thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure Nat and Banner were fucking in the lab the other day."

"No!" you gasped, sitting up.

"Yeah; I needed some calibration done on my arm, and since you weren't here, I went down to Bruce's lab to ask him to help, but the doors were locked. I was about to turn around and come back later, when the door opened up and Nat came rushing out, won’t acknowledge me or make eye contact, and I swear her shirt was on inside out. I get inside and Banner's actively tucking his shirt back into his pants."

You cackled at the mental image, kicking your legs in the air with delight. "Oh, that's amazing. Finally, those two crazy kids got together. I'll have to find some way to get Nat to give me all the dirty, dirty details."

"Ugh, if you do, please keep them to yourself," Bucky moaned. "Last thing I need is a mental picture of Banner's mini-Hulk."

"Hey now, I'm sure Bruce is perfectly proportionate," you teased. Then you got serious. "I gotta admit, I'm a bit jealous."

"You have a thing for Bruce?" Bucky asked, eyes wide with astonishment. "I would never have guessed he's your type."

"What?! No!" You playfully shoved him. "Same reason I'm jealous of Tony and Pepper, Wanda and Viz, Clint and Laura. You and your left hand, Sam and whoever he's dating this week. It just must be nice to be in a relationship, you know? To have someone to share that part of your life with."

Bucky cocked his eyebrow, but nodded, understanding your meaning and letting your joke about his left hand slide. "So, what's stopping you from going out and getting one for yourself, Pocket? You're smart, funny, gorgeous. You could date anyone you wanted."

You leaned back, making yourself comfortable against your pillows and heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh, you know, just the usual: Trauma, trust issues, fear of abandonment. All of that fun stuff." Bucky gave you a look, and you knew he wanted you to take the conversation seriously, for once.

"Finnne," you whined. "After I... Once I started out on my own, I was... Well, I did everything I could think of to try to reclaim sex for myself, you know? It wasn't healthy, it wasn't smart, but I was young and stupid and I didn't know what else to do. I can fuck someone without having a panic attack now, which, trust me, is a vast improvement from where I started, but making myself vulnerable for that emotional connection? To transcend something from just sex to a real relationship? I have no idea how to do that. It's like, I can open up one way, or the other; I can't do both. It's too much. If there’s even a hint of an emotional connection with a guy, I shut down. Close myself off. Like, it’s not worth the risk of getting hurt.”

"I understand," said Bucky, softly and simply, and you knew that he did. Your traumas were different, but the scars they had left on you were so similar. "I haven't been with a girl, physically, since 1944," he confided. "I don't know if I can trust anyone to be that open with, to share that part of me with. Not after everything that's been done to me. And I worry that I can't trust myself to let go, not without hurting someone."

You let out a long, low whistle. "That's gotta be some kinda celibacy record." You clapped your hand over your mouth. "You're a reborn virgin, James Buchanan Barnes!"

"Reached your quota for serious conversation, have you?" Bucky asked with a piqued eyebrow.

"You know it's not my strong suit," you conceded. "But seriously, man? 1944? Oof. Your balls must be black by now."

He gave you a look of disappointment, causing you to sigh.

"I know, I know," you said eventually. "You're trying to have a meaningful discussion with me and I'm being an immature ass, again. I'm sorry."

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're not an ass, Pocket. You're just... I wish you could talk to me without feeling like you have to fall back onto your defense mechanisms, that's all. I want you to feel safe with me."

You turned your head to look at him. "Buck, I feel safer with you than anyone else on this entire fucking planet. You're my best friend and you know all of my deep, dark secrets. You know me better than anyone, but I’ve spent a lifetime building those defenses; they aren't all just going to fall down in a day, so that means an inappropriate joke or two is going to slip through every now and then.”

Bucky smiled at you and squeezed you a bit tighter. "I know, Pocket. And I adore you for it. But if you ever want to talk about anything serious, know that I'm here for you."

"I know," you said, leaning into him. "And thank you, for being so patient and understanding with me. I get that I can be... a lot."

"No, you're just enough," he said. "Never think otherwise."

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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whole-circus · 10 months

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Listen, it's gonna sound weird, but can I get Tim and Brian with a reader like. Weirdly obsessive over whatever interest they have? Like it consumes their brain and it's like all they think about at times? They spend hours researching or maintaining whatever they're interested in to the point where they forget they kinda need to do other things

Dont feel pressured!! I understand if you're busy!!!

Tim Wright and Brian Thomas with reader that is obsessed with their current interests!

➥ Oh hi love!! it doesnt sound weird at all i get it!!! No worries, please dont be scared to send "weird" in your opinion asks!! i dont judge at all! Lots of love and take care!! <3

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

Tim Wright

Tim absolutely gets it! You have your interests and he is very happy that you do, especially that they make you content for some time! He is also the type of person to love hearing you talking about it - even if he doesnt look like he is actually interested. Like he know that you are like "no other thoughts, head empty" so please talk as much as you actually can! Even if its not his field and he is not really specifically interested in your current interest, then he is still listening to every world you say - if you start feeling bad about talking a lot then just look at his gaze full of love! Tim isnt really type to ask a lot of questions, but he has good memory for small facts about what you like now. Oh and i feel like he would definitely brings you small gifts that reminds him of your interests, and if its something craft the things to help you in creative process! Tim actually helps you get through a day and remind you about important things like eating or just taking care of yourself. He understand that its hard for you to be pulled away and as much as he hates it - he is the one to cool your enthusiasm but in needed and not so rough way.

Brian Thomas

Brian of course understands too! Like he is the sweetest! Talk to him about your current obsession and he will actually do research to be able to talk with you about it!! Oh my, its not like he doesnt like hearing you talk and just go straight to internet, but he want to impress you so much!! Brian wants to make you happy by actually knowing some things (that you already do know) and loves seeing your eyes lit up from his actions. Dont worry, he still likes hearing you talking - internet doesnt win this time! He also doesnt care if you change your obsessions over and over again or if fhey last 2 days or even a month, he is still cool with that and still supports you! Dunno, maybe its just me but i feel like he is the type of person to know all this little funny facts about random things, so maybe he will actually hit in your interests?? Even if he supports you, then he still helps you with normal things too! Understands how hard it is to pull you away from it so he will do his best to make this small duties funny and pleasant.

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

#brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #hoodie #hoodie x reader #tim wright #tim wright x reader #masky #masky x reader #marbel hornets #marbel hornets x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #headcanon #crp #creepypasta fandom #wholecircus #requests #creepypasta hcs

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chaysreality222 · 8 months

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A Guide On How to Script Your DR!

table of contents ⬎

1⌇opening message

2⌇what is a script ⋄ what can you script⋄where to scrip

3⌇how to script

hey, it's c! i know this was a long awaited post but, it's here now. in this post, i'll be giving you a guide on how to script your dr. this process can either be enjoyable or stressful because of not knowing where to start, but that's why i'm here! feel free to script your dr as you're reading this! let's dive in!

what is a script?

A script is a written version of all the details of you within your desired reality, scenarios you want to happen, the relationships you want to have, and the things that you own etc. I will say it once again, you don't need a script! but it is extremely helpful to organize all your thoughts about what you want for your desired reality.

what can you script?

You can script anything to your hearts desires! Don't take too much advantage of that information. I know it isn't any of my business about what you choose to script but don't be scripting anything inhumane. Come on now. Anyway, you can script things like unlimited money, (if you have a harry potter dr) a charm to make your period stop, or one of your pets into your dr. Stuff like that!

where to script?

You can use anything to script your desired reality! You can use a physical journal, the notes app in your phone, a google doc, google slides, canva, notion, etc. Basically, anywhere you can write or type. For those who want to keep your script a secret, I'd recommend a digital script rather than a physical one. You can get a journal app that requires a code to it so that no one gets in.

Then lastly, you can get the lifa app on the app store! It's like a pre-made script and all you have to do is add what you want. I'd definitely recommend it for anyone who has a hard time scripting on their own or just wants to get done with the process of scripting. I think there is a code on the app as well!

how to script

Finally, the part you guys have been waiting for. Everyone start taking notes. I'm gonna start off with the basics of what you'll need for your script. I took some screenshots from my script that can help you guys out!

Reality or Shifting Information! this will include: your time ratio (1 hr in my CR = 1 week in my DR), the timeline ("I'm shifting to 4th year, 1994), safety (safeword, safe action), scenarios (something as simple as going to get ice cream with your comfort character), and or arrival (describe what happens when you wake up in your dr/your first day in your dr).

Personal Information! this will include: about me tab (name, age, birthdate, hobbies, hygiene etc.), appearance (how you want to look/claims), wardrobe (what you'll have in your closet), backstory/plot (write about your backstory and how you're apart of the plot/change the plot if you want).

Relationships! this will include: s/o, family, friends, and pet. You can basically just list how old they are, who they are to you, where and how you met them, etc.

Belongings or Assets! this will include: finances, your house and or dorm, vehicles, and miscellaneous items. Basically whatever you want to own, how it looks like, what it can do.

[OPTIONAL] Places! this will include: any main spots that you'll know you'll be at and you can script that you own the place, eventually WILL own the place, or live there etc.

Extra! this will include: if you want to separately talk about how you become a vampire, get powers etc, (if you go to school/work in that dr) a schedule tab, calendar (come up with events or holidays you want to celebrate), immunities (whatever you're immune to).

I truly hoped this helped those who don't know much about scripting! I personally really love this part about shifting and I hope you will too. As always, Happy Shifting!

xoxo, c!

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifters #shifting motivation #shiftingblr #shifting #prttygirlshifterclub #fall aesthetic #scripting #fall

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cheesiedomino · 2 years

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When Worlds Collide

Part 2

genre: non-idol au, college au, hyunjin x fem!reader, badboy!hyunjin x innocent!reader, enemies to lovers? if you squint, pg-14

wc: 5.6k (i’m not very good at keeping things short i see)

tags/warnings: fluff, kissing, cursing, themes of anxiety and insecurities (regarding the reader), alcohol usage, mentions of drugs (weed), reader is introverted, hyunjin is a rich boi, hyunjin is a little mean to the reader at first, that’s pretty much it i think.

synopsis: you’ve been wanting to get rid of your good girl image since you transferred schools, but luckily, you have an extroverted roommate that can help you with that. Along the way, you meet at a strange individual at a party that shines a light into your dull life.

It all started after you transferred schools. That’s when everything changed for you.

You grew up in the smallest town where every and anybody would gossip (since everyone basically knew everyone in the town), there wasn’t much room to express yourself, and most of the people had conservative views. You were tired of living like this and you wanted to go somewhere you could feel liberated. You wanted a change of scenery, new friends, and a new life, and the city was the perfect opportunity for you.

You were nervous out of your mind on your way to the new university. You had no real expectations other than to be as far away from your shitty hometown as possible, 8 hours should be sufficient enough for that. However, now realizing you’ll know absolutely no one there terrified you.

Living in the big city was intimidating yet exciting, you wanted to experience something new for the first time in your life. It took everything in you to get your parents to agree, let alone even consider transferring to a university 8 hours away. They thought you were ludicrous and couldn’t see why you’d want to be that far away from them. You also have 2 siblings and they were both really upset but tried to be happy for you in the process. Of course, you’ll miss everyone but you wanted to do something for yourself for a change.

On the first day of moving into your new dorm, you couldn’t believe how huge your room was. The university compared to the one in your hometown was basically a castle. You were arranging everything on your side of the room and that’s when you heard the door swing wide open.

“Oh hi, you must be my new roommate!” A girl with long pink hair suddenly spoke,

That’s when you met Sana, your now roommate, and very close friend.

You weren’t expecting to become so close with Sana but it just happened. You guys were practically inseparable, that was until she joined a sorority. Once she joined she became busy more frequently, she didn’t have much time to spend with you anymore. You had other friends but they weren’t as fun and witty as Sana. You sometimes wished you had listened to her and tried joining the same sorority as her, but it was one of the most difficult sororities to get into and you have to know people in order to basically get in. See the thing is, you aren't popular, but she is. She knew almost everyone at that university. She has success right in the palm of her hands and she uses it to her advantage.

Although she's busy more often now, she still tries to squeeze time into her busy schedule for you. You went out to get boba one day and she asks you if you wanted to come to one of the parties that she’s helping host at her sorority house. Now, usually, you turn her down but this time she really tries to convince you to go.

“Come on y/n, wasn’t your whole goal of transferring schools was to let loose? Have some fun? You’re starting to resort back to your old ways” Sana says to you.

She’s right, and it pains you to listen to her. You’ve only gone to about 2 or 3 parties and it’s already the second semester. You needed to spice up your life just a little bit.

“I promise you’ll have fun honey, my brother frat is gonna be there too and they’re buying all the alcohol for us!” She continues. It doesn’t entice you that you’ll be meeting them since you don’t have much luck with men to begin with. Your insecurities always get in the way of everything causing you to either not see the red flags in a person or just downright end up getting dumped for someone else. You did however, want to get your mind off things and a party will definitely do just that.

“Okay, fine.” You agree, Sana starts jumping up and down on the bed and claps her hands, she’s the most adorable thing ever.

“Yay! I promise you won't regret it, babe”

As you’re looking for something to wear, you see Sana try on different shirts. You notice how good she looked in everything and how pretty she was. You hated comparing yourself to other girls but you couldn’t help doing that with Sana, she was charismatic, funny, always got guys and girl’s attention, everything you thought you were not. She’s from a big city so she has a lot more experience with certain things in life unlike you, she basically taught you all the street smarts you know now. You wish you could be more extroverted like her so you often try to copy the way she acts sometimes but you feel foolish doing it. You don’t think she notices though since she still thinks you’re a goody two-shoes that’s always studying.

You look in the mirror and analyze the outfit you picked out, it had a subtle amount of sexy but not too much. You thought it was the perfect balance.

“Nice tits,” Sana says to you flirtatiously as she passes by to get something, you look down at your shirt again and think to yourself if you’re showing too much cleavage.

“Calm down babe, I’m only joking, you look adorable” She retorts.

You sigh, “Sorry if I’m a little on edge, I’m just not sure how I feel in this outfit” it was a bit out of your comfort zone but this is what you wanted, you wanted to push your own personal boundaries. You wanted to show a new side of yourself, the one that you’ve been longing for since you got here.

“Well, as I said, you look adorable and there’s nothing to worry about” She says, “I’ll probably have to control the boys from drooling all over you though!”

You sway your hand towards her, “No way, I’ll be doing that for you instead!”

“Anyways, are you almost ready to go?” She says as she’s tying her platform boots.

“Yeah, I think so” You say, you can’t stop looking in the mirror, you just don’t feel confident in your outfit and it shows.

"This party is going to be fucking amazing!" Sana says as she wraps her arm around you leading the way. You gave a fake smile to her trying to act somewhat excited. Part of you wanted to just turn back and say that you want to stay in but the other half of you wants to finally shed your good girl image. You took a deep breath as you were getting into the uber, Sana insisted on you not driving since she wanted to take shots with you, even though you don’t really want to drink.

“My sorority sisters are so nice you’ll love them,” Sana says to you during the car ride “they may get a little wild but they’re still sweet and down to earth”

You nod, “I just hope everyone will like me..”

“Why wouldn’t they?” She tilted her head.

“I don’t know..” You really couldn’t think of a reason but the thought was still on your mind.

“Exactly, you’re thinking about all the wrong things right now. Think about just having fun and getting to meet new people.”

She’s always able to say the right things to you and that's why you love her.

As you guys get closer to the destination you have this weird feeling in your stomach, as if you’re going to throw up. You know its your anxiety so you just breathe in and out and try to stop overthinking.

"We're here!" She says, “my second home”

You look out the window and see the house in front of you. You thought you were imagining things. The house is huge. It could pass off as a celebrity mansion. It had a large balcony in the front with tons of people drinking and dancing. You saw strobe lights from the inside and you heard the splashing of water.

“Oh yeah we have a pool, by the way, we’ve got extra bathing suits if you want one!” She exclaims.

You get out of the car and you’re holding hands with Sana. As you walk in you see tons of people that you don’t know and have never seen in your life. Almost everyone has a drink in their hand and everyone looks like they're having a good time. Sana kept getting stopped every 2 seconds since she knew literally every person at school and it annoyed you since she was the only person you knew and came with. She was also the host so she was obligated to greet and talk to everyone. At one point you looked around and she was nowhere in sight. You just sigh and decide to walk around the 3 story house with your second drink in your hand, wondering why you even came here in the first place. You see people getting blackout drunk, making out, dancing, smoking, or knocked out. You decide to just go upstairs and sit down in a room or something. You open the closest door and end up walking in on two people.

The girl screamed.

"Close the fucking door idiot!" The guy yelled at you.

You closed it right away and ran to the next room still stunned by how fast that all went down.

The next room you went to was thankfully empty so you sat on the bed, pulled your phone out, and texted Sana to ask where she is.

As you were staring at your phone waiting for a response you hear a strange rattling noise coming from the closet.

You stare at the door not sure if it was just you hearing things or if something was actually in there. You hear another loud bang coming from inside the closet and that’s when you start to get up. You didn’t know if you wanted to run or see what was in there. Then the door abruptly opens, almost giving you a heart attack. You screamed and throw your empty can of beer at whatever was coming out of there.

"What the fuck!" You hear a man’s voice say.

"Who are you?!" You say, looking at the person coming out of the closet, now approaching you.

He was tall, wearing tight black jeans, and a gray hoodie, what stood out to you the most though was his bright red hair.

"No. Who the fuck are you?!" He says to you, in a harsh tone. His eyes are red, you can tell he’s clearly stoned.

"Well if you must know my name is y/n. But to be honest, that’s not important, why were you in a closet?" You ask him.

"I don’t need to explain shit to you." He snaps back.

You frown, not really appreciating his dickhead attitude, so you get off the bed and begin to leave.

"Wait, don't leave." He says before you could reach the door handle.

You don’t know why you halted once he said that but you did and turned around.

"Why not?" You ask politely.

"I don't know. You're kinda cute." He said.

You blush, you weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. He may have been rude to you a few seconds ago but he has one of the most attractive faces you’ve ever seen.

"Thanks?" You say back to him, you can never just accept a compliment without questioning it.

"You enjoying my party?" The boy asks, now sitting on the bed.

"This is your party?" You ask him.

"Yep." He proudly boasts.

"This is your house?"

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Yep."

You chuckle to yourself, “No it’s not, my roommate literally is part of this sorority and you don’t look like a girl to me”

He loses his arrogant facade realizing you caught him in a lie.

“Who’s your roommate?! He asks.

“Sana”

“Seriously?!”

“Yup, shocker right?” You say to him, wondering how he will think of you now.

“Well.. how come I’ve never seen you around?” He says.

“I guess I’m not really the party type”

"Then why the fuck are you here?" He says bluntly.

“I just wanted to” You say back but this time using more bass in your voice.

"Alright fine" He says, “But if you’re going to be here you need to let loose more, you seem very uptight”

“Whatever.” You tell him, taking slight offense towards what he's saying to you right now.

"Wait, what was your name again?" He asks.

"Y/n."

"Cool, I'm Hyunjin." He reaches his hand out to give you a hand shake “nice to meet you I guess”

"Sure." You say back, reluctantly taking his hand to shake it.

"Cute outfit." Hyunjin says as he pokes your stomach which was exposed because of the crop top you were wearing. You push his hand away and glare at him,

"Stop."

"You're no fun." He pouts. He towers over you with his tall and slender physique, you think you might stop breathing because of how beautiful he was.

"Whatever, anyways it was nice knowing you but I'm leaving."

You grab the door handle but Hyunjin grabs your arm in the process. You start to feel dizzy yet you dont know why. Was it from the alcohol? Definitely not, you weren't that much of a lightweight.

"Can I at least get your number?" He asks.

"No." You say as you shook your head, he may have been very attractive yet his attitude put a sour taste in your mouth. You left the party without Sana as you were ready to go and weren’t in the mood for that kind of night anymore. ‘So much for going out and trying new things’ you say to yourself as you head up to your room. As you lye on your bed and look at the ceiling you keep replaying that same scene over and over again. You can’t get the image of Hyunjin’s face out of your brain, everything about him made you want to melt, besides the way he acted of course.

As you get ready for bed and put on your pjs, you come out the bathroom and get a text from Sana. You had already told her you came back to the dorm so she knows you’re safe.

'Omg im sorry y/n i got so wrapped up in everything! i love you girl!'

You just look at it and roll your eyes. You know she’s extremely intoxicated right now so you just text her back saying it’s okay but in reality it wasn't.

"So, did you meet any hot guys?" Sana asked you, taking a sip of her boba drink.

You were chewing on your fries and trying to think of what to say, you weren’t sure if you wanted to bring up the Hyunjin situation.

"No.. But I did meet some weirdo." You say.

"Who?" She asked.

"His name was Hyunjin, I think" You definitely knew his name you were just trying to play it cool.

"Oh him? Really?” She says, “that’s my bro from the frat, he’s such a player but he’s really nice to me."

"Oh."

"He's actually really nice though, he's not weird at all."

"He's a douche bag."

"Well he's nice to me."

"Every guy is nice to you Sana."

She laughs at that, she knows she could have any guy drop to their knees for her. That’s just the kind of girl she was, you were not though.

As you play with the fries on your plate you hear a voice calling your name.

A strikingly familiar voice.

The one from last night.

"Ohh y/n! I'm still waiting for that number!" You hear from behind you.

You knew exactly who it was.

"What do you want Hyunjin?" You turn around.

"You know what I want." He says.

All this time you’ve never seen this man before, yet somehow today he comes to the same exact place as you. Is this the world seeking revenge on you?

You roll your eyes, you say your phone number super quickly and try to escape from him by coming out of the booth. You must’ve stood up to fast and you bumped your arm on the table, causing your drink to spill all over Hyunjin’s pants.

You froze for a second and profusely apologize to him.

“I- Oh god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to do that!”

“But you did,” He says looking at the damage done to his pants “So is this how you treat people you just met huh?” He replies.

“Come on y/n let’s head to class, really sorry this had to happen to you buddy” She says to Hyunjin as you both head out.

"Oh my god y/n, not gonna lie that was pretty funny!" Sana says laughing on the way back to the car.

"It was an honest accident." You say, “now he’s really going to hate me”

You actually didn’t have a class to go to it was just Sana’s quick thinking that got you out of that situation. You were sitting at your desk in the corner of your room and going over some quick vocabulary for your exam coming up. You felt your phone vibrate and see that you have a text from a number that you don’t have saved.

This couldn’t be who you think it is.

'Heyyy, i memorized ur number’ the text read.

You don't know if you should respond back or not. You just look at it for a while. He must really want to talk to you that bad if he’ll go as far as remembering the number you blurted out. You got interrupted by your thoughts with another message.

‘Why’d u spill ur drink on me babe?’

You scoffed. You hated this guy’s grammar and he’s already pissing you off. Yet you decide to reply anyway.

'Go away Hyunjin.'

'How about we go on a date tomorrow?'

You can't believe he just asked you that. After everything that just went down.

'Why?' You genuinely want to know why.

'Idk cuz ur cute'

'Whatever I guess' You don’t even know why you agreed. It’s like your brain was saying no but your hands were typing a completely different response.

Now you’re stuck and have a date tomorrow at 6:30 with him. You end up telling Sana everything.

"Oh my god are you serious?!" She said.

"Yeah." You say back nonchalantly, as if you’ve been asked on a multitude of dates before. But in actuality, you’ve only been on about three in total.

"Well you sound enthused." Sana said sarcastically.

You just shrug, you don't even know if you should be excited or not. It’s no secret that Hyunjin is one of the most attractive guys at school but it’s also no secret that he’s a ladies man. Not only that but his attitude can be so reckless. He doesn't think before he says anything so he just comes off as a major prick. But hey, look on the bright side, at least you have something do tomorrow rather than eating cheese curls and watching Netflix.

Today is the day. It’s 4:31 and you were getting ready for your date with Hyunjin. You were actually pretty excited at this point, even anticipating it.

You were both texting each other throughout the day and he didn't seem like the jerk you were talking to at the party. He was softer, had a more sweet side to him. He even said good morning and that you looked beautiful the other day. Although this nice side of him was starting to come out, he did still have some traits about him that you didn’t particularly enjoy. He did like to party, a lot. He enjoyed doing drugs, going out, getting into trouble and just being well..reckless. He had girls lining up to be with him and here he is just casually going on a date with you. The nobody that just happens to have a lively roommate.

You were getting dressed for the date and decided on a cropped cardigan with a mini skirt. It was simple and you can’t go wrong with simple. You finish doing your hair, makeup, the whole shabang, you were finally ready. You looked in the mirror and actually thought to yourself for once, ‘Wow I actually look good.’

You then get a text from Hyunjin.

'Hey r u ready?'

You really hate how this man texts.

You reply back saying that you are and he tells you good because he's outside waiting. You quickly gather all your things and start heading towards the door. As you walk outside and you see a black range rover in the driveway.

Hyunjin is just standing in front of the car, leaning on it, looking as if he’s been waiting for an eternity.

“Hey sweetie” He says to you, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hello.” You say shyly, as you analyze his car, you couldn’t believe he drove something so lavish.

"There's no way this is your car." You say to him.

"Well it is." He says.

"I refuse to believe it." You say back. If he can lie so easily to you at the party saying Sana’s sorority house was his what would make you think this car is his as well?

"It was a birthday gift from my parents." He said.

"Are your parents loaded or something..?"

"Sure, that’s unimportant just get in." He quickly dismisses the conversation and opens the door for you.

You get in and as Hyunjin begins driving you ask him where exactly you guys are going.

“One of the best spots in the city” He simply replies and continues driving. Deciding not to question anything else you just enjoy the ride and try to relax.

You’re suddenly brought to a halt and you realize that you’ve finally reached your destination. The place he is taking you for your date. It looked like some fancy tower but it was just a restaurant. Hyunjin quickly got out of the car and proceeded to open the car door on your side.

"Thank you." You say politely.

"You're welcome gorgeous." He says back sweetly.

You walk into the place and it looks stunning in here. Beautiful artwork decorated the walls, classical music was playing, it looked like a place where only the wealthy and well-established get to experience. You were in awe.

Hyunjin must already have reservations since you both got seated right away, it was near the water fountain and a man was playing the piano nearby. It was actually quite romantic and nothing like you were expecting coming from someone like him.

"How'd you get a reservation here on such short notice?" You ask him, "It looks so busy here."

"My uncle is the owner." He says.

"Oh wow." You say, you were definitely not expecting that answer.

"Yep. My mom is a neurosurgeon and my dad owns a bunch of companies." He says while taking a sip of his water.

"Jeez," You say, "You’ve never struggled a day in your life have you?"

"Look, you think I asked for this lifestyle? I could care less what people think of me."

You stare at your shoes underneath the table, not able to face him when he talks sternly to you like that.

"So you don’t like having this life?" You ask.

He shakes his head, "No, not really actually."

You look up at him and proceed to ask him why not.

"Because all these bitches try and use me for my money."

"Oh." You say quietly, not sure what else to say after that.

"Don’t tell me you’re one of those." He says.

"No, not at all." You shake your head profusely.

"Good."

Then there was pure silence.

The waiter finally comes and you order drinks and food. You went with a chicken caesar salad and water, not really understanding why you want to eat like some delicate flower around Hyunjin. You could eat the entire fridge if you could, and you have numerous times at your dorm.

"Are you on a diet or something?" He asks chuckling at you eating your salad.

You simply roll your eyes and continue eating,

"No, oh my god shut up." You say.

"You know, if you keep rolling your eyes they'll fall out." He slyly remarks.

"Good, now leave me be and let me enjoy my food” You say.

He chuckled, "You're so fucking adorable you know that?"

You blushed at that comment, most men don't compliment you and if they do it’s just to get into your pants. You’re enjoying this attention from Hyunjin though for some reason. You couldn’t take your eyes off him the whole night.

Your date with Hyunjin went surprisingly well. He opened up about a lot of things with you and you learned so much about him. He's 21 years old, he’s an only child, he’s studying biology and minors in photography, he’s also part of two clubs at school. His favorite color is green, he has two dogs, he grew up in a strict household like you but deviated at a young age, trying to shy away from his rich boy image when he was younger. He smokes a lot of weed, his favorite types of alcohol are vodka and whiskey. He hates people that use him and he hates eggplants and caviar. He enjoys skateboarding, he listens to heavy metal, and his favorite food is instant ramen. He's actually not so bad as you get to know him.

Once you get home you couldn’t help but feel sad. You wanted to spend more time with him but not in the way he wanted to. He asked you if you wanted to go to this party with him that same night but you declined, saying that you were gonna hit the books instead. He huffed and just accepted the fact that you weren’t budging and asked if you could hang out again tomorrow and you agreed.

"Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then beautiful." He kissed your cheek and walked back to his car.

You smile to yourself, “Goodbye Hyunjin.”

Now you’re sitting here on the edge your bed at 2 am with a dumb smile on your face. Your mind filled with only thoughts of him. His scent, his laugh, his smile, his energy, everything about him was just so sexy. You didn’t realize he had a tattoo of a snake on the side of his neck and that made you even more intrigued by his look. He stands out from the crowd yet he doesn’t care. He’s unapologetically himself and his aura is only growing stronger on you.

You can’t wait to share everything with Sana and your heart is racing. You’re going to sleep so good tonight.

You and Hyunjin have grown a lot closer these past couple of weeks. Once you got to know him more you realize he’s much more of a gentleman than you thought he was in the beginning. Sana is also really happy for you and she couldn’t believe you actually gave one of her fraternity brothers a chance. You’ve gone on a few more dates with him and you just love every bit of it, you love every bit of him. Although you are both complete opposites, it kind of worked out in the end. He doesn't force his crazy lifestyle on you and he’s even chose to stay in to chill with you at times instead of going to a party. You kind of enjoy how he sacrifices those things for you and it makes you feel as though you have a certain power over him. A secret weapon that no one else but you could use on him. It made you feel special.

Hyunjin texted you earlier asking if he could come over to your dorm and you were nervous since this was the first time he’d be seeing it. You spent all day trying to clean up and make it look the least bit of presentable. Sana was at the sorority house so she won’t even know anyone was here. Once he arrives, you open the door for him to come in and he immediately picks you up from the ground, hugging you tightly.

“Please put me down!” You shout to him.

“No, I love carrying you” He says as he continues to walk inside with you in his arms analyzing everything all at once. Your living room, the tiny kitchen, random plushies scattered on the couch, and then there’s your room on the left.

He steps into your room and looks at the brick walls, there were a couple posters hanging up and the fairy lights added a nice touch to everything.

"Your rooms pretty girly." He says to you chuckling.

"What'd you except?" You asked him.

"Honestly, I’m not even sure." He told you.

He sat on your bed and you sat next to him.

"Sit on my lap." He says, patting his thigh.

You turn to him giving him an odd look, "Why?" you start to giggle.

"I don't know, just do it." He says in that stern voice that you remember from when you first met him. You’ve never done this kind of thing before so you were a bit hesitate at first but then you get up and sit on his lap.

‘How bad could it be?’ You thought to yourself.

"Hey." You say as you comfortable sit on top of him.

"Hi." He says back, but in a low husky voice. He sounds so sexy when he talks like that and it makes you feel dizzy. He cups your face with his right hand and turns your head to face his. He looks at you, just staring into your soul like a hungry lion ready to catch it’s prey.

And that’s when it happens.

He leans in to kiss you, his lips almost crashing into yours. He kisses you as if he’s gone feral. He starts to bite on your lower lip and you gasp letting his tongue slip into your mouth with ease. He’s grabbing your face with both of hands at this point and he continues kissing you as if he’s been starved for decades. You try your best to keep up with his pace but you feel like you’re about to lose oxygen with the way he’s smothering you. The kiss was very passionate and everytime you pull back he just grabs your face again and continues like nothing ever happened. You’ve been sitting on his lap making out for what seemed like hours. Sweat builds up on Hyunjin’s forehead and he starts panting. His bright red locks hiding his face, making you brush it out the way. He’s so pretty everytime you look at him, you feel like you’re dreaming at this point. All of a sudden he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you more onto the bed, he’s just holding you. As if you truly mean something to him. You can feel his irregular breathing on your neck. You look over at him and you finally realize how red his eyes were.

"Have you been smoking?" You ask him.

"Yeah." He admits.

You roll your eyes. You don't have a problem with him smoking, it's just he doesn't look good with those beet red eyes.

"Babe, you should really come to this party with me tonight." He says, hugging you tighter.

"Noo. You know I dont like going to parties," You bury your face in his chest “Plus I have more homework to do” you mumble into his pecks wondering if he even heard that.

"Pleeease y/n," He says, “You look so hot right now, I just want to show you off” his hands begin roaming your body, his large veiny hands ran down to your thighs.

"Stop." You pull his hand away subconciously, you really aren’t used to men touching you like this.

"Come with me y/n." He pleads.

"No." You instantly shut down his offer.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

And the debate went on and on until he had finally won.

"Ugh fine you win,” You shout in defeat “but we’re leaving immediately if I feel uncomfortable”

“You got it babe.” He gives you lazy smile.

You turn your head facing the window.

"Y/n." He says.

"Yes?" You ask him.

"I really like you." He says.

"Is this the weed that's talking?" You say to him, reluctant of his true feelings towards you.

"No baby. It's all me..." He says sincerely, "I really like you y/n. Like a lot. You’re a really cool person. I like you more than I like going out." He says.

Your eyes grow wide. Could he really be telling the truth?

"Really?" You ask, now regretting it since you’re ruining a really cute moment.

"Yes y/n. You're really beautiful and I just... Ugh... Be mine already." He pulls you closer to him once again. You smell the weed on his clothes but you don’t even mind it anymore. You just let him continue cuddling with you.

"Okay Hyunjin." You come out from his arms and get on top of him. You lower yourself and kiss him once again. He kisses you back immediately letting you have some of the control this time. Everything just felt so perfect right now at this very moment.

“So does this make you my girlfriend or what?” He says after you pull away from the kiss.

“Yeah, I suppose so” You grin at him saying that term and you just can’t help but kiss him passionately again.

“You’re not the good girl I thought you were, look at you being so needy for me already” He says stroking the side of your chin. You’re still the same girl he met a few weeks ago, it’s just that he was the right person to unlock your true self.

You’re not the girl that’s scared of everything anymore, you’ve become much more confident with him around. This is what you needed, what you were looking for the whole time, and here he is. Hyunjin may be completely different from you but that’s how you come together, it’s as if you were meant for each other and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

End <3

(yes, i WILL be making a part 2 of this so stay tuned for that within the next couple of days hehe, hope you enjoyed and feedback is much appreciated. Take care & stay safe everyone!)

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin skz #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #skz drabbles #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin imagines

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

Text

𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au

part 1 [7.2k] | part 2 [8.3k] | part 3 [13.3k] | part 4 [4.7k] | au masterlist

Every day you wake up and wonder if today is the day you'll cry. It hurts to look at the blank walls of your bedroom and the small pile of things on your dresser you were going to put up: the drive-in ticket, a polaroid Jonathan took of you at the New-Bee's stall, a candle label from your first batch. Does it even matter now?

But the tears don't come. So you decide to push on the bruise in your chest, the ache that has returned full force but worse. It's in the shape of Steve.

You think about the first time you saw him, how you wanted him to touch you so badly even though he made you so mad. You think about him in the rainstorm, wet and willing to help you, you think about him under you at the drive-in, hands eager and rough. You think about him on top of you in his bed, gentle and tender as he panted your name.

And you've ruined it all. You've ruined whatever was between you, that glowing, beautiful thing, and you've hurt him in the process. Which is the thing you can't forgive yourself for.

You're eating breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen the morning of the first November market. Bob knows you're not coming -- you told him you weren't feeling great and he totally understands. You've worked hard the last few months and he knows it. He also knows that something is wrong, that Halloween changed something. That the phone call with Steve was about much more than just you getting home safely.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, packing his lunch before he leaves for the market. "Have you thought about what you want to do after the last market next week?" It's hard to believe that there really is only one more week in the season. The leaves are almost all gone and you can smell winter in the air.

You swirl your spoon in your oatmeal and don't look at him. "I'm not sure yet," you sigh. A call home last week hadn't helped, though it did convince you that the last thing you want is to move back in with your parents. "Mom says it's up to me."

"Well," he says, dragging out the word. "You're welcome to stay here and keep working on the farm. We've got lots of things to make for the holidays. Or you can get a job in town!" You don't realize that you never thought Bob would want you to stay until the words leave his mouth. But how silly of you to think that he'd be anything but kind to you, even if you're not contributing to his business. "Point is," he continues, "you can stay here as long as you want."

For a long second your heart considers it. Staying in Hawkins, making it your home. Regardless of your current circumstances.

Which you need to figure out. Regardless of how you feel and how Steve feels, you owe him an apology at the very least.

But you're not feeling very brave yet, so you call Sara's Farm while the market is going on, hoping no one will be there and you can just leave a message.

The dial tone only rings once before a sweet voice answers. "Sara's Farm, this is Jane, how can I help you?"

"Hi, El," you say. She gasps your name in delight, then says it once more in a tone you like much less. Did Steve tell anyone what you did? That you left him?

"Why aren't you at the market?" she asks. "Are you okay?" Her automatic concern washes away your own.

"Don't worry about me," you say.

"I do! Steve said you got sick on Halloween and had to go home. Are you still sick?" She doesn't totally believe you, you can tell. A lump rises in your throat. He's kept your business between you both. It makes your heart do something funny in your chest.

"I feel better," you lie. "Can you tell Steve that I called? That I want to talk to him?"

El pauses before she answers. "Do you think you're gonna figure it out? Whatever happened?" Smart girl, you think.

"I hope so," you tell her. She says your name again, this time sounding like a scold.

"Good, because you both are much more fun when you're happy together." That, more than anything in the last few days makes tears prick in your eyes.

And maybe that's why you burst into tears when someone knocks on the farmhouse door and you see that it's Robin. You can barely speak when she spills into the kitchen, cheeks rosy despite her hat, gloves, and at least four layers.

"So you are alive!" she says, and then realizes you're basically sobbing. "Oh, god. Wait, let me just --" She toes off her shoes and drops her gloves and outermost jacket on the ground before she opens her arms. "Okay. Do you want a hug?" You step into her embrace before she's finished asking. Her hands rub up and down your back in a slightly awkward way that's all Robin.

"Sorry," you hiccup. "This is embarrassing. I don't know why I'm crying." That much is true. There are so many things you're feeling that you don't know which ones you're upset about at this moment.

"I'm not good with crying girls," she says as you both sway side to side in your hug. "Crying anyone, really. I just never know what to say! But I do know that you have nothing to be sorry about. You can cry all you want. It's great for your skin! Well, I don't actually know that but Nancy told me once. And, well, you know Nancy. If she says it it's probably true, right?" You huff, throat thick but eyes starting to dry. You wiggle out of her arms and turn to wipe your face.

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask her. "How was the market?" Ever adaptable to a change of subject, Robin sits at the kitchen table as you fill a glass of water without waiting for her answer.

"It was...boring without you," she says slowly. "Strange, too. Bob told people you didn't feel great so I thought I'd come check on you."

You hum and sniff a little. You must look like a wreck from crying. "I, uh..." You can't look at her.

"I know something happened." She sighs. "Steve didn't tell me what but I figure you guys had a fight or something? And look, he's my best friend but you're both my friends and I don't want to get in the middle of it but I do care that you're both miserable."

You turn around and she's looking at you with such kindness, such warmth, that you have to swallow another round of tears. "We didn't fight," you tell her. "The opposite, really. But I messed it up and hurt him because I'm scared."

"Kinda looks like you hurt yourself, too," she says, not unkindly. "Is it something...you want to fix?"

"I don't know if I can." You scrub at your swollen eyes with cold hands. "But even if he can't forgive me I need to explain myself and apologize. And then..." you trail off.

"And then?" she asks. "I know you have a lot going on so I wasn't going to ask but there's only one market left and...do you know if you're gonna stay here? In Hawkins?"

You don't answer right away and Robin squirms in her seat but lets to think about it. Because a not small part of you wants to tell her that yes, you'll stay. You want to. You love it here. But things are a mess right now and it doesn't feel fair to make the choice before you've talked to Steve.

"I don't know," you finally say. 'I don't know how staying would work. It might be better just to leave. Easier." The words taste wrong in your mouth but you can't take them back.

Robin's chair scrapes on the hardwood as she gets up and walks around the table to stand in front of you. "One thing at a time, then, right? And you'll tell me when you decide?" You grab her hand.

"Of course, I will. I just have to talk to Steve first."

___

It takes you three days to work up the courage to call Sara's again. Hopper picks up.

"Sara's," he says gruffly.

"Uh, hi, it's --" He sighs before you can finish your sentence.

"Harrington!" he yells, though it's muffled as if he covered the receiver with his hand. Your stomach flips. "What do you mean who is it? Who else calls around here looking for you?" You can't hear Steve, and then Hopper's back on the line.

"I don't think I want to know why he won't talk to you," he says. This time, your stomach feels like a lead weight.

"That's fine," you rush out. "Can you give him a message for me? Uh, Hopper, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," he says. "I guess I don't have a choice. He looks like a kicked puppy."

"Tell him to meet me at the lake tonight, if he can? Where we had the bonfire? 8 pm?" You try to keep the pleading out of your voice but you must fail because Hopper's next words are almost kind.

"Sure, kid. I'll tell him." The phone clicks and you hear the dial tone.

You don't really expect him to show up. It's freezing, cold enough that you're sitting in the cab of the truck with the heat on while you wait in the dark. The remains of your bonfire from weeks ago sit in the fire pit, the ash and charred logs illuminated by your headlights. Why did you think this was a good idea? Steve has no reason to hear you out. He has every right to never speak you to again, no matter how awful that would be.

But then you hear it -- the rumble of a truck, headlights bright on the shore next to yours. Before the lights in the cab go out you can see Steve take a deep breath. He opens the door and walks quickly through the cold, his breath puffing in front of him, to your passenger door. You have to force yourself to keep your own inhales even at the sight of him. Your entire body feels like it's aching as he climbs in next to you. He feels miles away.

"Hey," he says. He clears his throat and doesn't look at you for longer than a quick glance up and down. "Are you okay? You weren't at the market on Saturday."

"I'm fine," you say, the lie now familiar in your mouth. "Are you okay?" You don't know what possesses you to ask. He looks fine, if a little cold. Same warm eyes, if a bit wary, messy hair pushed into his hat haphazardly. He looks pretty as always.

"Honestly?" You nod, though he's not looking at you. "Not really."

"Steve--" you start, but he interrupts you.

"I wasn't going to come," he says, then shakes his head. "No, sorry, that's not true. I've been jumping every time the phone rings for almost a week, hoping it's you. But I can't bring myself to answer it. I've been desperate to see you again but I also can't look at you because it makes me sad."

"Sad?" you whisper.

"Because I don't understand what happened. And I want to fix it, but I also want to be mad at you. And I can't figure out how to do either."

He doesn't say anything else and you take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Steve," you say. You've said the words out loud to yourself hundreds of times by now and they taste funny in your mouth. Like missed opportunity. Like your own mistakes.

"Can I ask why?" he says, finally turning to look at you head-on. "Why you left?"

"I--yeah. Yeah, of course. I want to explain myself. I owe you that." How do you do this without telling him you love him? Without sounding like you're trying to manipulate him into forgiving you? Because that's the last thing you want to do. "I hope I don't need to tell you that it's nothing you did," you say. "It's all me. And I know that sounds like it's not you, it's me but that's the truth. It's me. I-- I freaked out. I freaked out because you have changed my entire life, Steve. You've turned it upside down and made me love a place I didn't feel right in at first and you-- you are good and kind and everything wonderful about this town." You've kept your eyes on your hands clenched tight in your lap but you look up at him then. His gaze is steady, brows furrowed. "And I...god, Steve. I don't want this to sound like I'm guilting you or anything because it's only been a few months but that night I realized that I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the shit out of me."

You're looking at him as you say it, so you see that he doesn't react even a little bit. It makes your chest tighten, but you push that down. It's not about if he loves you or not. It's about apologizing.

"I understand how that's scary," he says carefully. His own hands are shoved in his pockets. You wonder if he's clenched them into fists. "I just don't know why you'd leave instead of telling me how you were feeling."

"I wish I could take that back."

He looks away again. "Do you regret everything else, too? Having sex? Everything before?"

"God, no," you breathe out. "No, Steve. I don't regret any of that." You want to touch him but you know you shouldn't. It wouldn't help anything.

"Do you get why you leaving like that hurt?" he asks. "Why the last thing I expected to come back to was an empty bed?" You chew on your lip as he keeps talking. "Because I thought we had figured that out. The whole...not talking to each other bullshit. Dealing with our emotions unfairly, being too hasty and hurtful. You helped me learn how to do that and I tried for you."

There's nothing to say. Other than the truth. "I know, and I'm sorry," you tell him. "I freaked out and I hurt you and that was the last thing I wanted to do. And I understand if you can't forgive me--"

"I didn't say that," he interrupts, tone a hair from desperate. The first real emotion you've heard from him other than frustration. "I just need some space, I think. Okay?" He lifts his hand in the air and it seems to hover in the space between you before he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You inhale raggedly.

"Okay," you say. He smiles but it's sad and climbs out of your truck and back into his, driving into the night with a little wave.

You sit in silence for a few seconds before hot tears trickle down your cheeks. But this time, they're of relief. Because he doesn't hate you. Because he might forgive you, someday. Your chest aches but just for a moment, you let yourself feel all of it: the overwhelming sensation of being in love with Steve. It washes over you and all you want is for him to be happy.

Maybe when you tell him you're going to stay in Hawkins he'll even be glad about it. He cares about you, no one can deny that. And maybe, maybe he can love you.

___

After you talk with Steve you allow yourself to lean into preparing for the last market. You barely leave the farm because you make as many candles and soaps as you can. You wander into the farmhouse after finishing your latest batch of candles -- Steve's candles, as you call them in your head -- to find a fairly large size wicker basket on the counter.

"What's this?" you ask Bob. He's tying string onto honey jars.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he smiles. The basket contains an odd collection of stuff, all from local businesses. A small bouquet from Byers Flowers, a bag of mushrooms from Rick's, some jam from Sara's. A tiny pumpkin with a face drawn on it and even one of your own candles.

"Lucas Sinclair and Will Byers biked that over and dropped it off. Said it was for you." He points to the card you'd missed before that's nestled behind. the flowers.

We hope this humble offering helps convince you to stay in Hawkins!

It's written in a steady hand you know to be Will's and signed by every kid individually: Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El.

"Wow," you whisper. "I guess the rumor mill has started."

"I've heard that you might be leaving," Bob says. "Not sure where that came from." Robin, you think. Your darling friend might have gotten ahead of herself. "We don't have to talk about it, but have you thought any more about what you want to do?"

You don't hesitate, eyes on the card in your hand. "I want to stay."

The final market is the busiest Saturday you've seen, even though it's practically freezing. The November chill worms its way under your three layers, hat, and gloves. You should have worn two pairs of pants. There is laughter and your candles fly off the stand. There's a stand of hot cider somewhere that smells delightful.

And the weirdest thing keeps happening. People keep stopping you to say that they don't want you to leave town, and then when you tell them you aren't going to, they're so relieved. You've had the same conversation with so many customers that you've lost count. It really is a small town, you think. Your small town.

"Hey!" Eddie bounds over to your stall as the market is about to end, curls shoved into a black beanie with a pom-pom on top. He looks to be wearing at least three flannels under his leather jacket. "I heard you're leaving?" He looks pretty down about it, too. "I'd have brought you some mushrooms but I know you don't like them."

"Where did everyone get this idea that I'm leaving?" you huff. "I only told Robin that was still trying to decide--" Eddie scrunches up his nose and grimaces. "Did she tell you I was leaving?"

"Welllll..." he drags out. "She might have hinted that she thought you were going to and I think the story got out somehow." Then he brightens. "So you're not leaving?"

You smile, allowing the happiness of your choice to fill you for just a second. "I'm sticking around," you tell him. He whoops far too loudly.

"Thank Christ," he says. "Otherwise we'd have to deal with a sad Harrington forever." You look at your feet. "Oh, come on," he says. "You haven't made up yet?"

"How do you know about that?" you mumble, eyes still on the ground.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says. "Anyone can tell just by looking at Steve that he's down as hell. And he won't tell anyone why."

"I--" You want to ask him more, ask him what he's talked to Steve about, ask him if he's seen Steve today since you haven't, but before you can Robin runs over.

"You're staying?" she pants. "I heard it from Vickie who heard it from Brenda who heard it from her mom who heard it from you. I thought you were going! I told people you were going!" The memory of you crying in her arms flashes in your mind. Maybe it's not so outrageous that she got the impression you wanted to leave Hawkins.

"Well, here I am," you say. "If you'll have me."

"Fuck yeah we'll have you," Robin cries, grabbing your hands over the stall counter. A few people shoot her dirty looks for her language but she doesn't notice. "Oh my god, we're going to have so much fun. You have to come visit me at school, and we'll do Friendsgiving, and New Year's Eve, and --"

She prattles on about all the things you're going to do, and you can't fight your smile. But there's a lingering barb in your chest because you still have to tell Steve. Have to see if he's forgiven you if he ever will. If he's okay with you sticking around, regardless.

You want to ask Robin about him but you don't. He'll come to you if he wants to since he's the one who wants space and you want to respect that. But it would be nice to see him here, at the place where you met. The place where it all started.

So after your friends wander away with a bounce in their steps, you soak in the last moments of your last market for this year. Vendors wave at you on their way out and you pack up as slowly as you can, stretching out the task as long as possible. And to see if Steve will come say hi after all. He must have hid in the Sara's tent all morning.

You're careful with the candles, eyes on the fading line on your palm. The giddiness of that day in the rain with Steve is a fond memory, even if it makes the ache more profound. His smile, his laugh, his gentle hands. Hands you hope to hold again. The crates are all done and you take a deep breath and tell yourself you have to bring them to the truck when you feel a prickle on the back of your neck. You look up and --

There he is. He looks frazzled, no hat or gloves despite the cold, cheeks and nose pink, and hair a riot. He walks towards you with determined steps, stopping a few feet away.

"Hi," you breathe. "Hey, Steve," you say again, louder. It's like you willed him to come over here.

"Uh, hi," he says, dragging one hand through his hair and shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry I didn't come over earlier. It's been really busy today and -- well." He sucks on his teeth and looks at the sky. "Listen, I heard some stuff today and I don't know what's true and I know I asked for space but I had to come ask you because --" He takes a breath. It's unlike him to ramble like this, you think. It's endearing. "Are you staying in Hawkins or are you leaving?" he asks.

You blink. "Oh," you say. The rumors must have gotten to him and Robin hasn't set him right yet. "Yeah, that. Uh, well, first I just want to say I'm sorry again and I hope that the space is good for you." You clear your throat, swallowing the lump. "I want to fix things between us, whatever that looks like, but only if you want to. And I don't want to rush you, but --"

Steve takes a step towards you and your voice stops working for a second, long enough for him to start talking again. "Sorry, but before you go on and tell me you're leaving I just...please don't let it be because of me." He takes a hand from his pocket like he wants to reach for you but balls it into a fist instead. "If you want to leave I don't want to stop you because you have to do what's right for you and I know I asked for space but I don't think I want that and I should have just told you before." He takes a deep breath.

"Told me what, Steve?" you ask so softly you don't know if he hears you. He runs his hands through his hair again. He takes another step forward, so close that the tips of your shoes almost touch. His eyes are warm and bright when they meet yours.

"I'm in love with you. I love you. I don't know if you meant it by the lake and that's okay but I mean it now. It's soon and it's scary and I don't know what to do about it or where it'll take us but I just have to tell you so you know because...you can't leave without at least knowing that I do. You can't leave thinking I won't forgive you." He laughs a little to himself and takes half a step back. "And we need to work on our communication, especially if you leave, but I just want you whatever way I can have you--"

"Steve," you croak. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. He loves you.

He blinks a few times, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Oh, sorry," he says. "Keep going with what you were saying."

Your thoughts are gibberish inside your head. All you can think is how badly you want to hold this boy in front of you. "Steve," you say again. He looks more worried this time, but before he can say anything you throw yourself at him, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He's quick to pull his hands out of his coat to wrap his arms around you and you feel his cold nose on the skin of your neck.

"I'm staying," you say into his shoulder. "I'm not leaving."

He pulls away just enough to see you, noses almost touching. "Did I hear that right? You're staying?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I want to stay. I love this town and the people in it and it's home now. And I, uh, want to figure us out. If you want to." You are embarrassed to feel your lashes grow wet. Steve brings his hands between you and blows on them before he gently frames your face.

"Did you think I'd not want to?" His thumbs stroke your cheeks. "I can say that whole speech again."

"No," you say, leaning into his palms. "I did think maybe you'd tell me not to stay. When we were at the lake. So I didn't bring it up." His face does something funny before he touches his forehead to yours.

"I will never tell you to go because I want you here, wherever here is. I just want you with me." You want to pull him into your chest, to show him how your heart has his name on it.

"I still don't know what I want, Steve," you whisper. "I want to stay here but I don't know how long that'll last. I'm not sure of anything but I'm sure about you. I'm sure that I love you."

"We can figure it out," he says, mouth curling into a smile. His eyes shine bright at your words. You both know that you have a lot of work to do -- learning how to communicate better, how to love each other right, how to deal with your own wounds and insecurities and feelings. There is growing to do. But you can do it together.

"Okay," you nod. Your noses brush. Maybe it is that easy. Just deciding what you want and seeing it in front of you and taking it. Calling it yours, holding it close. All of the hard stuff has led to this and maybe it was all worth it to get to this point -- the fighting and the misunderstandings and all of the kisses and the ache in your chest that you now know is just love. It's love with all its aches and pains and it's worth it.

"Can we kiss now, please?" he asks you. His breath is hot on your skin, visible in the space between you.

"Yes, please."

The press of his lips to yours is delicate, soft. It's loving. His thumbs stroke your face lazily and you grab his forearms gently, feeling the strength and the warmth of him through his layers. All Steve, you think. All yours. It's like he's thinking the same thing because his mouth curls into a smile against yours and you're not so much kissing as grinning against each other but it's exactly what you want. It's Steve. It's home.

THE END.

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @mrs-dr-reid @toomanyacorns @darlingoctober @selfdeprecatingnerd @dullsocietyy @keep-drivng @shireentapestry @mintfrostflower @freezaz123 @dahliamae @localbnbg @palmtreesx3 @eddiethesexy

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