#i can’t watch that movie again i burned myself out i need to wait until the need to see alex is eating me alive

[livvyofthelake]

could you imagine being named lance and your best friend’s name is kay and then this kid comes up to you and tells you he pulled excalibur out of a rock at a construction site and he starts saying you and your friend were destined to be knights and you’re like ok that sounds like bullshit and then he’s like hello king arthur’s best friend was called lancelot... and you’re like ok so? what does that have to do with me. can you IMAGINE being that stupid. bro that’s your name.

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (2)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: Cliché alert and mostly fluff in this chapter! There’s been a mini time skip, but I wanted to show that Reader x Leon became fast friends in the meantime and are relatively comfortable with each other. I made Leon a lot cheekier this round, but I feel like he uses mischief to mask his true feelings.

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: More Than Meets the Eye

The first couple of weeks of the new term had already flown by and managing your tight schedule of school work, actual work, dance and cheer practice left you with literally no time for anything else. Sighing as you yanked open your locker to retrieve your school books, a familiar figure popped up at your side, slouching against the metallic compartments with a loud thud.

Without even turning your head in its direction, you already knew who it was. “Hey, loser,” you called out, smiling inside.

“Hey, yourself,” came his gruff reply.

As you finally faced the culprit, you and Leon laughed at each other’s greetings.

“So, since it’s a Friday, wanna hang out and watch something tonight?”

Both of you had been almost inseparable until school started, and that’s when you guiltily kept postponing your regular meetups in favor of working on your future goals.

“Uh… I don’t think I can.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. “I seriously need to get some studying time in and I have cheer practice after school.”

“What was that again?” He put a hand to his ear, listening for something non-existent and pausing for dramatic effect. “All I heard were excuses.”

“Hey-”

“Come on, relax.” Placing his hand on your shoulder, he gave it a tiny squeeze. “School’s only just started. You’re gonna burn out if you keep going like this.”

“Leon…” It came out a lot whinier than you intended.

His eyes widened as you caught a brief glimpse of something devilish in them. You knew it was too late to stop the bullshit that would come out of that filthy mouth any second now. 

“Mm, say it like that again.” Ah, there it is.

Groaning internally, you smacked his hand off your shoulder playfully. “Ugh, you know there’s no way-” 

You turned your head around, checking behind you before lowering your voice. “-I’ll ever get outta here, if I don’t push myself from the start.”

He straightened up a little as he considered your words. “You hate this place that much, huh?”

“You think?” It came out almost as a whisper.

“Shame,” he muttered. “Well, tell you what,” he glanced quickly to the side before looking back at you. “Since you’re so damn keen on this study session, we could do that and then grab some burgers after. Maybe even a movie. How’s that sound?” He puffed his chest and looked almost victorious, as though he knew it was an offer you couldn’t back out of.

Fuck Leon and his persistence. “Yeah, fine,” you grumbled as you shut your locker in defeat.

Once again, that smug grin flashed across his face. “Great, so uh, see you at 5?”

“Mm hm, library,” you nodded reluctantly.

“By the way, your girl gang is here,” he motioned with his head in the direction behind you. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Before you could respond, he had already walked ten paces away.

Nobody likes gossip. Ever since you had started hanging out with Leon, people talked and they assumed many things. How far the rumors reached, you didn’t know, but you didn’t want to ruin things between the two of you. You cursed small town gossip under your breath. This was probably one of the few genuine friendships you had, so you tried to keep things as lowkey as possible. Thankfully, Leon agreed to play along. For now.

You tightened your grip on your books as you spun around, plastering a bright smile across your face as you greeted your teammates, who were still sporting tans from their holidays and bubbly chatting with each other.

“Hey, babe,” Kayla, the cheer captain, moved in to give you a quick hug. You caught a whiff of her tropical-scented, coconut vanilla perfume. “So where did your boy run off to?” She winked, giving you a side smile. The other girls around her immediately broke out in hushed whispers.

There wasn’t anything malicious about her question. In fact, your teammates were nice enough, but they could be rather superficial and nosey. You tried to downplay it with a look of confusion in your eyes, shaking your head as you remarked, “He’s just a study partner, Kayla.”

Some giggles broke out and your ears burned. Great, they didn’t buy that a single bit. Defending yourself would just raise more suspicion, so you unhappily resigned yourself to the fact that you were probably doomed for the rest of the term.

“Yeah, whatever.” Kayla waved her hand dismissively. “Was about time anyway, and he’s quite the catch.” She licked her lips suggestively, but quickly added, “Not as good as mine though.” Of course, her obnoxious football boyfriend. You tried to hide your grimace. 

Flipping her shiny, raven-colored locks, she continued, “Still, very cute. I approve.”

Your mouth ran dry. Why couldn’t they just mind their own business? You swallowed your anger as you tried to change the subject. “Um, cheer practice at 3, right?”

She snickered, seeing right through your act. “Yeah, same as always.” She turned to leave, wiggling her fingers as a form of goodbye. “Oh, and you’re leading warm-ups today. Ciao, babe.”

You could hear audible groans coming from the rest of the team as they trudged off with Kayla. They definitely weren’t looking forward to your intense warm-up session, but to you, warmer bodies meant lesser injury risk and better preparation for stunts and routines. Pursing your lips at the less-than-ideal conversation you just had, you tried to shove it to the back of your mind as you hurried off to class.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As you flung open the double doors leading to the school’s indoor gym, you were greeted by the unfamiliar sight of another group you didn’t exactly recognize next to your cheer team. It seemed like Kayla was speaking to their coach, as she nodded a bit too enthusiastically - a nervous habit she displayed when she was irritated but didn’t want to show it. Slowly, you inched closer to listen in on their conversation.

“There must have been a double booking-”

“I’ll sort this out with the admin right now,” Kayla offered.

“It’s just going to eat into practice time. Anyway, this lot won’t need much space today. Functional training.” He sucked his teeth and gestured towards the group. That’s when you spotted Leon, sitting at the side with his arms across his lap, chatting merrily with another girl on his team.

Just my luck, you sighed, folding your arms as the coach continued, “I’m sure you girls won’t mind sharing?”

You saw Kayla clenching and unclenching her fists as she hesitantly agreed to the proposal. With that, she spun around and called out shrilly, “Ladies! We’ve gotta share the space. We’re taking this half.” She drew an imaginary line with her arms as if to stake her claim, before brushing past you seething, “They always think they can sideline us, like we’re not important.”

At this point, Leon made eye contact and waved over. The girl beside him suppressed a laugh and you weren’t sure whether she was embarrassed or making fun of you. Furrowing your brows, you gave a hasty, lopsided smile before heading over to your side of the gym, making a mental note to question Leon about that exchange later.

Wasting no time for further pleasantries, you proceeded to blast your high-energy mixtape on the cassette player as loudly as possible, secretly smirking as you heard the coach swear under his breath at the intrusion.

“Ok, everyone! Let’s get those heart rates up!” You hollered, running through the exercises as they copied you dutifully, breaking out in a sweat and panting furiously. 

Your eyes filtered through the crowd, checking for anything they could improve on, as you continued calling out prompts. “You can lift your legs higher than that!” Hm, that sounded rather… You ignored that prickly feeling at the back of your throat and continued, “Face up, not to the floor!”

When it came to the stretching section and the music toned down, you suddenly heard the unmistakable yell of a reprimand being given from the other end of the room. “Kennedy! You can stare at girls after training!”

Wait, what? Your head darted in the direction of the bellowing. Sure enough, you saw the coach glaring at Leon, who seemed pretty flustered as he denied the accusations with a feeble “I wasn’t!”, which was met with roars of laughter.

Really, Leon? Getting distracted by a bunch of cheerleaders? You were oblivious to what actually happened there and decided to pay no more attention to it. Instead, it was time to go through the routine and fortunately you were relatively decent at compartmentalizing.

“Alright, a few things I wanted to point out,” you began. “This part’s looking good, but it would start off even more amazing, if you frame your body like this.” Adjusting your shoulders with your arms slightly back, profile tilted a smidge upwards, you angled yourself in a semi-diagonal position, shifting your weight towards one leg as you lengthened the other for the prep stance. The other cheerleaders shuffled around, attempting to imitate what you showed.

Kayla motioned for you to demonstrate the full sequence before she took over and you obliged. “Ok, watch me.” You danced through the routine dynamically, hitting all the accents and flowing through the softer parts more sensually. Whipping your hair around as you transitioned from a body wave into a hip roll, you swung the pom poms above your head at the same time and trailed them across your body.

It all seemed to happen in a haze, but after coming out of the next spin, you somehow ended up holding a gaze with those same piercing blue eyes that had caused you so much trouble today. They widened and flickered, but didn’t break away for what felt like an eternity, until-

“Leon Scott Kennedy! I swear to god!”

Uh oh.

“You either train, or you can leave!”

Leon’s cheeks flushed bright red as he bit his lip, stammering, “Sorry coach, won’t happen again.”

You’d never seen Leon get this unnerved, which concerned you. He emanated a natural sense of confidence and was usually laid-back to the point where nothing could ruffle him. In any case, you were also sure as hell everyone heard and saw that commotion, especially since a number of students were now looking between him and you, mumbling to each other.

Nothing could beat the relief you felt when Kayla took over your position, as you stepped away from the center to join the rest of your team. Just when you thought you were in the clear, one of your teammates scooted over to you, whispering seductively in your ear, “Ooh he definitely enjoyed the show you put on.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

The minute practice ended, you bolted straight for the restroom, just so you didn’t have to deal with anyone else for the time being. Hiding in one of the cubicles for a good 10 minutes until you could hear the last footsteps trickle out of the hallway, you unlocked the door and stumbled over to the wash basin, splashing cold water on your face. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you inhaled a deep breath before exiting and making your way towards the library.

From afar, you could see Leon waiting patiently outside of it, as though he fully trusted that you would still show up after that little stunt he pulled earlier. Walking gingerly towards him, you cleared your throat.

“Oh, hey. So… what’re we studying today?” He asked casually, while browsing through his pile of books, as if nothing had happened.

“Math. Definitely Math,” you concluded, also pretending to ignore the white elephant in the room. “If that’s ok with you?”

“Sure, I suck at it. So why not?”

The study session went by rather sluggishly and uneventfully, with both of you going through equations after equations and figuring out the logic together. It was a wonder you could concentrate at all with the events of the day playing back in your mind like a broken record. 

You were thankful for Leon’s earlier suggestion of burgers when it was time to pack up to leave. He gave you a knowing smile when your stomach growled and you placed a hand over your belly instinctively, as you cast back a self-conscious glance. It seemed like he had thought of everything again, where you often had trouble remembering your own basic needs when you were lost in your schoolwork.

Both of you plopped down on the cushy, retro red seats opposite each other in a booth at the only diner in town, getting in your orders as quickly as possible. You suspected that he was just as famished as you, but trying his best not to show it. During the waiting time, the two of you caught up with and exchanged news on all the goings-on of the past weeks.

When your orders finally arrived, you snatched up your burger, devouring large chunks of it, while Leon looked on amused as he bit into his.

“Wuhhff?” You managed to cough out with your mouth stuffed with food.

Almost instantly, he mimicked your reaction, resulting in a fry being thrown in his direction, as he ducked to avoid it while snickering.

“Here, you got some sauce on your chin.” He reached out with a paper napkin, gently wiping it away, as his bright blue eyes bore into yours. That prickly sensation you felt earlier in the school gym started to bloom again, as you squeezed your eyes shut and cleared your throat. “Is it gone now?”

“Uh… y-yeah.” 

Fluttering your eyes open, you caught sight of him looking down at his plate, suddenly completely engrossed with his meal, as he chucked the used napkin to the side. You were quite certain you spotted a pink tinge dusting his cheeks while he slowly chewed his food.

The table grew silent as you muttered a quick, “Thanks.”

Giving it a few minutes before you attempted any form of conversation, you casually decided to bring up the topic you had both been avoiding till now.

“So…” you breathed, testing the waters.

“So…?” Leon questioned, raising an eyebrow, still munching the last bits of his burger.

“At the gym. What was that all about?” You picked at your fries nervously, as you felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through your body in anticipation of an answer.

“What do you mean?”

Ugh. He’s deflecting again. But you weren’t about to let this go so easily. “Don’t play dumb, Kennedy.”

Leon paused, and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered his words carefully. It only took a moment for his face to light up as if he hit the jackpot. “I got distracted, that’s all.” His signature smirk broke out across his lips, before adding, “By you.”

The boldness of his answer caught you by surprise, as you choked on your food. Patting your chest, you gulped down some water before sputtering, “Excuse me?”

All at once, he was back to his usual, composed self, as he remarked, “You dance really well. Can’t I admire that?”

“Um… y-yeah, I guess.” You weren’t sure how to respond. Coming from a background where dance teachers often gave you tough love and criticisms in an effort to spur you on, you never really learnt how to accept compliments.

“A ‘thanks’ would be nice.” 

Clenching your jaw, you wished you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Trying to approach it from a different angle, you blurted out, “But, people talk.”

Leaning back against his seat and placing his hands behind his head, Leon seemed unfazed. “So let them talk.” Noticing your frown, he continued, “What’s wrong if they think we’re dating? Am I really that bad to be with?” He mentioned it as if it was the most normal thing to say in conversation between two friends, and the worst thing was that you didn’t know how to counter that.

“No, you’re gre-,” you quickly corrected yourself. “I mean, you’re fine.” Sighing, you explained, “I just don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

His gaze softened as he reassured you, “It won’t, trust me.”

Since he was that calm about it, you decided not to pursue it any further. Maybe you were thinking too much into things. However, another question popped up in your mind. “Who was the girl you were speaking with back there?”

He propped himself up again, a little taken aback by the quick change of topic. “Oh, you mean Val? Yeah, we sometimes participate in relays together. She can be a real handful though.”

“She seemed to find me amusing,” you pointed out.

“Really? I didn’t notice,” he shrugged and scoffed down the remainder of his fries. You searched his eyes to detect if he was messing with you, but couldn’t find anything of the sort. “I told her about you.”

Well, that explains it. Crossing your arms, you prepared to release an earful until you were interrupted by the grinning idiot in front of you. “Do I even want to know-”

“I said…” He drifted off, taking his time to sip his soda, leaving you hanging on purpose. You subconsciously leaned in closer as your patience started to wear thin. He lowered his voice, presumably to utter something serious. “You’re the coolest kid I met over summer.”

“You’re such a dork!” You exclaimed, as you punched his arm lightly from across where you sat.

“Ouch! And here I am baring my soul to you.” He rubbed his arm melodramatically and feigned a hurt expression on his face, which only served to encourage you to taunt and play fight with him further.

Sometimes he could be so infuriating. But funnily enough, that was part of what drew you to him in the first place. 

━━━━━━━━━━━

It turned out that Leon had rented some VHS tapes from Blockbuster, so you had the choice of either heading to the local cinema for a late night screening or watching a movie from the comfort of his home. Naturally, you picked the latter. Going to the cinema together would seem too “date night”-like and you had endured more than enough gossip that day to last a lifetime.

You greeted his parents as they kindly let you and Leon hog the living room TV. Before heading upstairs to their bedroom, they gave a half-hearted reminder not to stay up too late, that they knew would go unheeded. They were friendly and way more relaxed than your parents, so much so you preferred hanging out at Leon’s place over yours.

After making some hot chocolate, you settled onto the couch as Leon popped the tape into the video player. Relaxing into the cozy atmosphere, you hugged the warm blanket he offered you and savored the steaming drink between your hands.

Unfortunately, the day’s events probably caught up to you, as your eyelids grew heavier as time went by and you were fighting a losing battle to keep them open. At some point, you must have drifted off to sleep and then accidentally used Leon as a makeshift pillow. He swallowed thickly, as you curled up beside him, resting your head against his shoulder and nuzzling his neck, completely unaware. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was afraid he would wake you. Something made him instinctively wrap his arm around you, even though his mind was screaming to do the exact opposite. This is just gonna make things worse, he sighed, but he didn’t feel the urge to remove it and maybe he could get away without you knowing. So he let you sleep soundly until the credits ran.

“Hey.” He called out softly, as you stirred. “The movie’s over now.”

Blinking groggily, your vision was still blurry as you tried to make out where you were. You weren’t sure if you felt an arm around you or just the back of the couch, as you rubbed your eyes.

“You fell asleep,” he explained, as he let you go and tried to shift away from you as stealthily as possible, hoping you wouldn’t recall the previous position you were in.

“Hm?” You stretched your arms out, yawning lazily as you scratched your head. “Uh, what time is it?”

“Just past midnight.”

You jerked upwards, startled. “Shit, so late?” Your face swung in his direction. “You didn’t wake me?”

He bit his bottom lip, eyeing you apologetically. “You looked like you needed the rest. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You buried your face into the bunched up blanket on top of your knees, groaning, “Ugh, my parents are going to kill me.”

That drew a faint laugh from him. “Don’t worry, I took care of it.”

You turned towards him with a puzzled look.

“I called them before-” he stopped himself abruptly, as you noticed him tense up.

“Before what?” You questioned out of confusion.

“Nothing.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and refused to meet your gaze.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out if something out of the ordinary had happened. It started off as a vague recollection of falling asleep, maybe leaning against something and the smell of fresh citrus and musk… which smells exactly like- Oh god, no. Your stomach dropped. The realization that you had snuggled with Leon in your sleep dawned on you and your head was whirling.

At this point, Leon knew you had worked out what happened, so he did the only thing he could do in such a situation. “Man, you were heavy.” 

That snapped you out of it and earned him a slap to his chest. “It was a joke, jeez!” He raised both hands up in defense and quickly moved to a different topic, “Anyway, as I was saying, your parents told me to walk you home when you woke up.”

“Oh… thanks,” you shook your head and sighed. “Sorry to put you through the trouble.”

He waved it off. “It’s really no big deal. I’m just glad I finally got to hang out with you again.”

“Yeah, me too,” you admitted. “This was nice.”

As you got up from the couch to prepare to leave, it seemed like Leon had another idea. Grabbing your wrist, he coaxed, “And?”

You knew what he meant and nodded in agreement. “And… I promise I’ll make time for this in the future.” A random thought flashed across your mind as you grinned cheekily. You had to get him back after all his teasing. “How about…”

“I’m listening,” he mentioned with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“...we meet for more study sessions?”

It was his turn to groan, as you giggled uncontrollably. “That’s such a cop-out!” He responded accusingly. 

Placing your hands on his shoulders and bending down to meet him at eye level, you pleaded, “Come on, we could do something fun after too?”

Rolling his eyes, he rebutted, “You’re kinda driving a hard bargain here.”

You weren’t ashamed to play dirty though, so you turned on the best doe eyes you could muster, and insisted, “Please?” You knew he was a lost cause now.

“Damn it, that’s not fair,” he grumbled, though he eventually gave in. “Ok fine, but only if fun’s a guarantee.”

“Deal.” With that, you took his hand in yours, giving it a firm handshake.

[sweetsweetjellybean]

If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 4 | The Reason

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Adapted from As The World Burns by @myeuphoricmindset

TW: FemReader, Angst, Smut WC:11038 Masterlist Here

The nights are louder than he remembers. Full of the songs of the cicadas and peepers. The occasional croak of a bullfrog or the hoot of an owl. The distance sounds of traffic from streets away. Somehow it all seems much louder than the Upside-Down. Between the booms of thunder and howls of creatures, there were hours of absolute silence. It’s been six weeks, and Steve hasn’t forgotten how the silence made him feel. Anxious and defensive, like an itch he could never scratch. 

Returning to his dark empty house, the quiet is more than he can stand. It’s become routine for him to sit outside on one of the loungers, watching the last rays of gold sink beneath the treeline, waiting for the sky to cycle through the palette of sunset until darkness finally gives way to the burst of stars. The nighttime sounds calm his worries. This is home. Sitting there, he tries to remember every detail so that it can never be taken from him again. Focusing on the pattern of shadows woven across the moon, he can’t help thinking about you. Are you looking up at the same sky? 

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Nancy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as she steps out of the house from the sliding glass door. “You didn’t answer when I knocked. I hope you don’t mind. I let myself in.”

“Of course not,” Steve says, twisting to look at her over his shoulder, “Come have a seat,” he gestures to the chaise beside him. 

She moves into the space between the two loungers sitting down sideways so she can face him, folding her dainty hands in her lap. “I heard you were at Dustin’s all day today.”

“I put some shingles on that spot on the roof where the tree fell. They don’t need it leaking when it rains.” Construction is underway all over town. Minor projects are getting pushed down the waitlist as tradesmen try to complete the most lucrative jobs first, so Steve has been doing what he can to help his friends and neighbors.

“Well, that was nice of you,” she comments with a smile.

“Well, if you haven’t heard, I’m a nice guy,” he says with smug charm, his lips quirking on one side, aiming to pull an incredulous laugh from her. 

“I think I may have heard that somewhere before,” she giggles, rolling her eyes before continuing, “You must be hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?” 

“Nah, Mrs. Henderson made pot roast. She wouldn’t let me leave until I ate two helpings.” He rubs his flat stomach, smiling. Dustin’s mom always makes him feel like family. 

“How about a movie then?” she asks, hope filling her voice. 

“I’m exhausted, Nance.” He reaches out, patting her hand, “It’s a nice night. Stay here with me for a while.”

“You’ve been sitting out here a lot lately.” She looks down to where his hand covers hers.

“I never realized what I had until I almost lost it,” he says, pulling away from her and looking back towards the horizon. “I like it out here. It helps me think.”

“Think about what?”

“Everything…nothing. I don’t know.” The longer he looks, the more stars come into view. Simple truths are relieved by just taking the time to look.

“You’ve been so distant.”

Her words have him turning towards her again. She’s still looking down, wrapping her arms around herself, her small hands disappearing into the sleeves of her sweater.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be,” he frowns, watching how she’s trying to protect herself, “Are you cold?” He sits up, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off his shoulders. “Here. Sit back.” He stands and waits for her to swing her legs onto the lounger before tucking his coat over her like a blanket.

“Thanks,” she pauses, settling into the leftover warmth, “I thought this would be our time, and I’ve hardly seen you. We haven’t… we’re barely ever alone together.”

He runs a hand through his hair before sitting sideways on the lounger, taking up her position from earlier. “I guess we haven’t,” he says, knowing he’s been neglecting her, but there’s not much left of himself to give, “Work is keeping me busy, and the kids–”

“Steve,” she cuts him off, frustrated by his excuses, “Volunteering at the shelter and doing odd jobs for free doesn’t count as work. And the kids don’t need you to babysit them anymore. Robin’s been back at Family Video for a few weeks now. She told me that Keith has called you.”

“I don’t want to go back to Family Video,” he says, looking away. He’s been over all this before with Robin. “I’m not ready.”

“I know it’s been hard. We’ve all been through so much, but Max is healing. The kids are fine. Everyone is moving on. It’s time for you to start your life.”

His mouth opens with surprise. “Nance, the kids aren’t fine. Have you seen them? Max is struggling.”

“She’s getting better.”

“Nancy, she’s blind. And it’s not just her. Haven’t you seen the way Lucas panics every time he has to leave her side, even for a few minutes?”

“Steve,” she sits up, his jacket slipping down around her waist as she swings her legs to the side, reaching across the space between them to take his hand, “Nothing you can do is gonna fix that.”

“I know that,” he mumbles, but even acknowledging it stirs his guilt. 

“I think you should come with me to Boston.” her fingers tighten around his as if she can already sense his reluctance.

“Boston? For school?”

“I think you’ll really like it there. It’s smaller than Indianapolis, and there are all these great old buildings. I called Emerson, and I’ve got it all figured out. It’s not too late to get the money back from my room and board. We can get an apartment, and I can get a job on the weekends.”

“I don’t know. You’re supposed to be studying, not working,” he shakes his head, looking away, “I don’t even know what I’d do in Boston.”

“It’s a city. I’m sure you can find some job that you’d like. Anything is better than Scoops, right? Maybe you can even go to school?”

“Sure, Nance, I didn’t get in at Hawkin’s Community, but I’ll pull out that acceptance letter I got from Harvard.” his eyes roll. 

“Then just be with me, Steve. Let’s try and make it work this time,” she moves her head, seeking his eyes, trying to break through the wall between them ever since he’s been back.

He swallows hard and meets her eyes. “I want to, but I can’t leave them.”

She blows out a deep breath and lets go of his hand.

“What if something happens? What if it starts again?”

“It’s not going to, Steve. It’s over,” she emphasizes, like it's something she’s explained before. “Why can’t anyone accept that?” Her question makes him realize maybe she has just not to him. He may not be the only one thinking of someone else. Steve has only seen Will a few times since he’s been home. The boy’s clothes were even looser on his slight frame, and purple skin circled his sunken eyes, and Jonathan wasn’t leaving for school in the fall.

“That’s what we thought the last time, Nance. That’s what we’ve thought every time,” he says, his voice quiet but resolved, “I need to stay until they graduate–”

“That’s three more years,” she complains.

“They need me.”

“I need you.”

“No, you don’t.” he gives her a soft smile, reaching for her again, “You never have, not even once.” 

She swipes at the tears forming in her eyes before they can fall. There isn’t anything else she can say.

“Come’er,” he tugs her off her seat, pulling her into his side as he settles back onto his lounger. Her arm wraps around him as she rests her head on his chest, the worry coming off her in waves. “It’s going to be alright, he smooths his hand over her hair, “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, snuggling closer, “Just don’t take too long.”

He holds her tightly as he looks back toward the darkened sky, the endless stars glinting as brightly as the moon. He tries to imagine his life with her in Boston, sitting on the rooftop of their tiny apartment. Would the stars shine as vividly with all the city lights? Would he still be thinking of you?

“Double check for any loose nails,” Steve instructs Dustin as he climbs down the ladder, his white t-shirt covered in sweat and dirt.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Dustin says smartly as he picks up the discarded singles that Steve had tossed down from the roof and throws them into the trash barrel. 

“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the lawn mower,” he points his finger at the boy before picking up a bottle of water and taking a long pull. Despite the cool nights, the heat during the day still felt oppressive, and he could feel the tenderness of a burn beginning on the back of his neck.

“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the mower,” the boy mimics in a mocking voice before adding, “What an asshole.”

“Hey!” Steve fumes, settling his hands on his hips just as Mrs. Henderson comes toddling out of the house holding two glasses of lemonade.

“Oh boys, you finished! It looks so nice,” she says, handing the boys the lemonade and stepping back to admire the view, “You two did a great job.”

“You can’t even see it from down here, Mom,” Dustin scoffs. Earning a warning glance from Steve.

“Well, I can just tell,” Claudia Henderson informs her son, “It’s going to be such a relief not to worry every time it rains,” she says, turning her attention to the other boy, “I can’t thank you enough, Steven. I know you said I couldn’t pay you but here,” she pulls some folded bills from her pocket trying to hand them to Steve.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve waves his palms in front of his chest, “The pot roast was thanks enough. It’s been a while since I had a meal like that.”

“Well, you’re welcome anytime. Isn’t that right, Dusty?” She looks for confirmation from her son. When Dustins folds his arms across his chest with a mumble of ‘son of a bitch’, her face goes red with embarrassment. She recovers quickly, smiling at Steve, “Would you like to stay tonight? I’ve got a casserole already to go in the oven.”

“Well–”

“Not tonight, Mom,” Dustin cuts in before Steve can finish, “I’m going to Gareth’s for Hellfire.”

“Dusty, We’ve talked about this. I don’t think that’s safe after everything that’s happened,” Claudia says, her fingers clutching the front of her shirt.

“Jesus Christ, Mom. Eddie’s dead. What more do you want?”

“Watch it, Henderson,” Steve says, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Steven,” Dustin says, shrugging him off.

“Dusty!“

“Excuse us,” Steve says to Mrs. Henderson as he grabs Dustin by the collar and yanks him around the corner of the house.

“Since when do you talk to your mother like that?” Steve asks the boy as he releases him against the side of the house. “I know you’ve been feeling bad since Eddie, but you need to get this attitude in check. She doesn’t deserve that, and neither does anyone else.”

“Don’t you dare say his name,” Dustin says, his voice rising in anger as he puts both hands on Steve’s chest and shoves him away. “You didn’t know him or care about him. Just do me a favor and add his name to the list of people you don’t give a shit about and forget you ever met him.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, confused. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Ding ding ding. Good detective work, Sherlock Holmes,” Dustin says, trying to walk away until Steve stops him, grabbing the front of his shirt. 

“So help me, I may not win many fights, but I know I can kick your ass, you little shit,” he pushes Dustin back against the house. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“Like you care,” the boy spits, his face red with anger. 

“Of course I care!” Steve yells, waving his hands. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Dustin challenges.

“What?”

“Just until you get to play the hero again. Right, Steve?” he asks sarcastically. 

“Are you kidding me, dude?” Steve asks, catching on. How can he actually think that? “That’s what this is all about because I pushed you through the gate? I did that for you. So you wouldn’t get stuck there. Someone had to stay-“

“Don’t give me that. You did it to be the hero. I begged Eddie not to go back,” Dustin yells, his voice cracking, nose beginning to run, “He just wouldn’t listen, and neither would you. I don’t need another dead friend, Steve. I need you here.”

“I am here!” 

“I heard you,” he says, swiping at his eyes, “When El found you, screaming for her not to take you. You don’t know what it took to get you out. To get that gate back open. What we risked. Tell me again how much you care about us.”

“You got this all wrong. I care about you. All of you,” Steve shakes his head and pulls the boy into a reluctant hug, “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, you understand?” 

Dustin nods into Steve’s chest, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and Steve recognizes the gesture as his own. He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out thick with emotion. “All I thought about was getting home, man. I just couldn’t leave her behind.”

Dustin sniffs, one arm reluctantly landing on Steve’s back. “There’s one thing I don’t get, Steve. If she was so important, then where is she?”

The polished silverware slides against each other, hitting the back of the drawer with a loud clank when Steve yanks it open with more force than necessary. He pulls out a fork and retrieves the open can of SpaghettiOs before heading outside through the slider of the sunroom. The conversation with Dustin plays on a loop in his mind. It’s clear the scars that they all bear are more than skin deep. How do you rejoin a life that doesn’t belong to you anymore? 

He sits on the lounger stirring the tomatoey contents of the can. It’s later than usual. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon. A light mist hangs over the pool's surface, its blue-green light brightening the dark corners of the yard. With the thick clouds obscuring the waning moon and stars, the woods surrounding the yards stay shrouded in shadows. Decisions hang over his head like a knife about to drop, hurting the people he cares about. It’s not the past that’s hard to let go. It’s the future that was never supposed to be.

“I don’t know how you can stand that stuff cold,” Hopper’s voice comes from beside Steve just as the first bite passes his lips. 

“I guess it’s just a habit now,” Steve replies as Hopper eases himself down on the chair beside him, a six-pack in his hand. He pulls one from the plastic ring, handing it to Steve before taking one for himself. 

“Hmm,” Hopper cracks the tab of the Schlitz and takes a loud slurp, “Habits can be hard to break.”

Hopper had been dropping by Steve’s a couple of times a week since he had been home. Steve isn’t sure if this is Hopper’s way of checking up on him or if he just wants an hour of quiet before returning to the full house he shares with Joyce. Hopper has as much on his mind as Steve. Some nights they don’t exchange more than a few words. Whatever his reasoning for stopping by, Steve welcomes the company.

“So,” Steve says after washing down a couple more mouthfuls of Spaghettios with the cold beer, “If I needed to find the address for someone outside of town, is that something you could help me with?”

Hopper’s answer comes in the form of a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulls a slip of paper from his breast pocket, holding it out to Steve in between two fingers.

There’s a skeptical look on Steve’s face as he takes the paper from the older man. Hopper picks up his beer, going in for another sip as Steve unfolds the note, his eyes widening. 

“You’re a damn good cop. You know that, right?” Steve asks, stuffing the paper into the pocket of his jeans. 

“You’re not the first one to tell me, kid,” Hopper says, settling back into his lounge and looking to the sky where the clouds have shifted and thinned. Beams of light push through the thin wisps, brightening the darkness. “Whatta ya know?” Hopper says, pulling a cigar from the same pocket, “Looks like it might be a clear night after all.”

A light breeze blows the gauzy material of your sundress around your bare legs as you walk down the street toward your apartment. As you hitch your tote higher, the sun warms your shoulders, and a smile plays at your lips. The pieces of your life always find their way together like a jigsaw puzzle without the bigger picture. Forcing them into what you want never works, but eventually, they fit, a new section more beautiful than you imagined is laid out before you.

Your eyes lift from the sidewalk as a car speeds past, Higher Love blasting out of its open windows. The notes blend with the rush of wind through the trees that line your street. One yellow leaf flutters to the ground, an unmistakable sign that the end of summer is near. You watch the car cruise down the road until it passes the stone steps of your apartment. Your stomach and heart turn somersaults when you see him sitting there watching you from behind a pair of dark avatars, a million-dollar smile gracing his handsome face. Your pulse quickens as you approach, wondering if he will always have this effect on you. 

“Hi,” he says, pulling off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his white tee just as the car turns the corner and the music fades away.

“Hi yourself,” you say, stopping in front of him. “This is a surprise.”

“I thought it was fair,” he shrugs, squinting up at you with one eye slightly closed. “We have unfinished business.” He moves his coat and an empty soda can to his other side, inviting you to join him on the steps.

Climbing a few, you sit next to him, letting the bag fall from your shoulder to rest beside you. “What’s this business?” you ask, your arms circling your knees.

He smirks in response, turning to pull something from his jacket. Returning with a cellophane packet of Twinkies in his hand. “The other pack got a little squished,” he explains as his long fingers tear open the packaging, “These are fresher. I checked the date.” He hands you one of the yellow cakes before taking the other for himself. 

“Thanks,” you laugh, taking the slightly sticky treat from his hand. He brings his to his mouth but pauses, wanting to watch you take your first bite, and you oblige him. One hand hovering under your mouth to catch the crumbs as your teeth breach the soft cake. The sweetness is overwhelming you as much as his gesture. “Mmmm, that’s good,” you say with your mouth still full. 

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling, taking pleasure in your reaction, at how it feels just being near you again like no time has passed.

“Mmmhmm.” Your tongue darts out, licking the filling from your lips, missing a tiny glob in the corner. Before you can make a second pass, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his mouth to taste. Behind you, the apartment door opens, and your neighbor from upstairs is maneuvering around you with a heavy box in his arms. Steve’s arm is around your waist, pulling you closer to his side, giving your neighbor more room to get by. It happens quick enough for you to feel dizzy. Five minutes ago, you didn’t think you’d see him again, and now he’s surrounding you, heat lingering like a ghost every place he touches you. The thin material of your skirt barely separates your skin from his Levi-covered legs, his mouth just inches from yours as he bites into his Twinkie. 

Your hand shakes as you turn away from him to pull a bottle of water from your bag. Twisting the lid, you take a few gulps to give yourself a moment to regroup.

“Are you alright?” He eyes you with a curious expression. He knows you too well. “Is it okay that I’m here?” He asks, his voice dropping, turning serious.

“I’m always glad to see you, Steve,” you answer honestly. It’s the goodbyes that you can’t bear.

He takes a moment, looking down at the cracked sidewalk. “You look really pretty,” the corners of his mouth lift but not with charm or arrogance, with something much softer. “I mean, you’re always pretty, but when I saw you coming down the street, you looked happy. I didn’t get to see that when we were…there.”

“Thank you. So do you, but I kind of miss the axe.”

A laugh bursts from deep in his chest, “Yeah? Did that do it for you?”

“Definitely,” you giggle, nudging him with your shoulder, “Want some?” You tip your bottle towards him. 

“Sure,” he takes it from you.

“It’s my new habit,” you nod toward the bottle, “I get a bit panicked if I don’t have water with me. Kinda crazy, right?”

“Nah,” he takes a sip before replacing the cap and handing it back to you, “That’s not so bad as far as habits go. It’s kind of a smart one, actually. I keep eating Chef Boyardee cold.”

“Eww.” Your nose scrunches.

“Right out of the can,” he chuckles, his fingers circling your wrist, gently pulling your arm into his lap, turning it to reveal the healing scar running down the inside of your arm. “I can’t stand the quiet at night,” he says without looking up from your arm. “I sit outside on my back deck for the noise. It’s where I think about you.” His long fingers trace the raised skin with the softest pressure. “I fall asleep out there most nights.”

“I sleep with the lights on,” you admit in a quieter voice, loving and hating how he touches you like you belong to him-like you’ll always belong to him. “And I stuff a couple of pillows behind me, so it feels like yo–like I’m not alone.” 

His eyes lock with yours, and his fingers still. An ache that dulled over the past few weeks but never disappeared completely, crashes over you like a wave. You belong to him, but he’ll never be yours. Not here. Only in another world. Pulling your arm back, you wrap it back around your knees.

He frowns, sensing the shift between you, and changes the subject. “Were you coming from school?” he nods in the direction you came from. 

“Oh. Um, yeah,” you say, following his eyes. The center of campus is a few blocks away from your apartment.

“Have classes started?” he asks, thinking about the answer he owes Nancy.

“No. Not for a few more weeks. I-uhh…I was changing my schedule. I’m not going to do fieldwork anymore. I’m going to teach instead. Maybe high school,” you explain.

“But you loved it,” his eyebrows pull together in a straight line. 

The same expression your advisor gave you when you told him. “I know, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

His Adam’s apple bobs, an expression of guilt washing over his face.

“Hey, don’t feel bad for me. Teaching’s a good gig. Great hours. Summers off. There are worse jobs.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he says, recovering. “You can force all those kids to listen to your bad jokes.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, squeezing your knees tighter, “What about you? Have you figured out what you want to do yet?”

“No, not yet,” his head turns away, looking down the other side street, “Nancy wants me to come with her to Boston.”

Your heart cracks open even though you knew this was coming. “So you’re together again?”

He turns, shaking his head, “No. Not really. She wants to be.”

“And what do you want?” you ask, but your heart already knows the answer.

“I don’t know,” both hands card through his thick hair, pulling on the ends, “I don’t know. It’s not that easy. The kids….Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Nothing’s made sense since the last time I was with you. That’s why I had to see you.”

“I think you know exactly what you want.” You place your hand on his knee, a gesture meant to comfort, but he takes full advantage, covering your hand with his, lacing his fingers through yours. You should pull away, but your heart pleads to take what you can. Goodbye is just on the horizon. 

“You’ve loved her for so long.”

“It doesn’t feel right anymore,” he argues, leaning closer, his forehead brushing yours.

“I think,” you pause, wetting your lips, and his eyes track the movement. “I think you’ve been making decisions thinking of everyone else for so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to choose something that will make you happy.”

“What if the right thing,” his voice has dropped to just louder than a whisper as his nose runs along your cheek, “and what I want is the same thing?”

“Steve,” your breaths are coming in shudders from deep in your chest. Tears sting behind your eyes as a cruel voice repeats from the back of your mind. He’ll never choose you. 

“Can we go inside?” his lips touch yours with the barest of brushes.

His question is a jolt of ice water up your spine. You’ve indulged yourself too long. If you let him in now, tomorrow when he’s gone, you won’t recover. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, pulling back. You let your resolve steel your spine as you stand. Climbing a few steps, putting distance between you. 

He stands, trying to follow. Sadness and confusion marring his pretty face. “Honey– "

You stop him with a hand held out in front of you. “All of this. Everything we’ve been through. It happened so you can get what you’ve always wanted. So she can see you. Don’t throw it away, Steve. You’re going to thank me someday.”

His mouth opens, but he can’t find the words. Stepping forward, you throw your arms around him in a hug too quick for him to return before you step back. “I’m so happy to have seen you again.” you smile, working hard to keep your tone enthusiastic, promising yourself you will not fall apart despite the pain. Not this time. “Send me a postcard from Boston, okay?” you ask, but you’re already turning away, pulling your keys from your tote, and moving to the door.

“I miss you,” he says. The pain in his voice makes you pause and close your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone before, not the way I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you turn back to him. You know he’s trying, but it’s not enough, not after having him. He’s still not choosing you, and you deserve someone who will, even though it’s so tempting to give in to him.

“Maybe I’ll surprise you next time,” you keep it light, “I’ll show up in Boston when I need someone to share a Twinkie. Take care of yourself, Steve,” you push your key into the lock.

“Wait. Wait, he says, waving his hands before they settle on his hips, “If you’re so sure I’m supposed to be with her, then what’s your reason? Why were you there? Why did we even meet?”

Your eyes shift to your shoes, trying to find an answer that isn’t a lie, reasoning that it’s okay to lie if it’s for his own good. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

The lock clicks before he can say anything else, and you quickly seal yourself on the other side. You wait until you see him walking down the steps to let yourself into your apartment. Immediately dropping your bag and leaning your back against the door. Your hand moves to your stomach as you silently apologize for your lie. Pushing away, you walk through your tiny kitchen to the refrigerator. Rubbing your eyes, you refuse to let a tear fall. You won’t regret doing the right thing. Your hand wraps around the handle before you yank it open and pull out a juice container. “It was the right thing,” you whisper, letting the door swing closed, revealing the black and white strip of photos of a small blurry shape taped to the other side. “For all of us.”

The buzzing from the cars zooming past in a haphazard flow does nothing to calm Steve’s nerves as he makes the long drive back to Hawkins.

“Fuck,” he slams his hand against the wheel as the memory of you closing that door, shutting him out of your life, replays in his mind. He shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. He shouldn’t have pushed. After being apart for so long, he should have known better. But seeing you come down the street, having you so close–it was like no time had passed. It felt natural to touch you. He had just wanted to talk. Just wanted to see that you were alright, but the feel of your soft skin under his fingertips had only made him want more. And then, just like before, it was over before it really began.  

Steve snaps off the radio, cutting off Lindesy’s pleas. One thing had come out of it, though. He had gone to you looking for clarity, and you had given it to him. You were right. He does know what he wants. He keeps the radio off, rolling down the window, listening to the sounds of life around him. Watching the highways turn into towns and more familiar roads until he was crossing the Hawkins town line. Passing the turn for Cornwallis, he heads north toward Maple. The house is dark when he pulls into the driveway, his lights bouncing off the second-story window he had climbed through more than a few times before. But not tonight. He turns the key, pulling it from the ignition, the leather creaking as he leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. The light’s still low, just breaking, when the knock on his window wakes him. The blue of Nancy’s eyes is brighter than the sky as she stands barefoot, freezing her nightgown. She takes his hand as they walk inside.

“I’m working on it, Flo,” Hopper yells in response to the knock at his closed office door. He scrambles for the empty file folder stuck between his booted feet and the desk that they are resting on. He wraps the folder around the copy of Car and Driver that he’s been reading and quickly shoves the half-eaten donut into his top drawer. Replacing it with a red apple that he takes a big bite of just as his door swings open. 

“Oh, it’s you,” he says as Steve wanders into his office, shutting the door behind him and sitting heavily in the chair in front of Hopper’s desk.

“What do you want?” Hopper asks as he settles back further in his chair, his eyes moving back to the file folder he’s holding up in front of him.

“How about a job?” Steve asks, his eyes roving around the small office.

“Ha, good one,” Hopper chuckles, pulling out a camel from his breast pocket.

“I’m serious, Hop.” 

Hopper narrows his eyes as he lights his cigarette. “What’s gotten into you, kid? Having regrets about not leaving with Nancy a few weeks ago?”

“No. Nothing like that. It was never gonna work out,” Steve says, shaking his head. He said goodbye to Nancy the morning she found him outside her house. He loved her, but they weren’t right for each other. It would have left them both broken if they’d forced their lives to fit together. So, he let her go like you had let him go with affection and without regrets. Another chapter closed. 

“I’m ready to figure out what to do with my life.”

Hopper stays quiet, taking another drag from his smoke.

“I figure I’m pretty good at helping people, so that’s what I want to do,” Steve shrugs.

“This isn’t just helping old ladies across the street, Harrington,” Hopper says, sitting up in his chair and blowing out a steady stream of smoke, “It’s hard work.”

“Yeah, I can eat donuts and read Car and Driver, too, Chief,” Steve says, waving a hand toward Hopper.

“Watch it, kid,” Hopper says, slamming the magazine on his desk and stubbing out his cigarette, “What happened with the girl?”

“The girl?” Steve questions

“You went to see her, right?” Hopper asks, leaning forward on his elbows. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Steve says, looking away.

Hopper’s jaw tightens as his eyes turn to slits under thick eyebrows.

“What do you want me to say?” Steve asks, crossing one leg over the other. “She wasn’t interested.”

“Let me get this straight. You went there?”

“Yup.”

“Knocked on her door?”

“Waited for her to get home half the day.”

“Then you told her you weren’t going with Nancy?”

“Well–“

“And that you’re in love with her.”

“Not exactly.”

“You are in love with her?”

“I–”

“What’s wrong with you, Harrington?” Hopper asks, gripping the edge of his desk, “Are you stupid or something?”

“Jesus, Hop,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have you seen them out there?” Hopper’s uniform-covered elbow slams down on the desk as he points to the closed door, “I’m full up on stupid. Now,” he says, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, “I might have something for someone who’s got their shit together, but right now that aint you, Harrington. So, come back and talk to me when you do.” 

“Hop, I–“

“I don’t want to hear it, Harrington. You might be able to do some real good someday, but right now, I’m busy. Important police business to take care of,” Hopper says, propping his feet back up on the desk and burying his face in the magazine.

Steve isn’t sure if it’s sentimentality or sheer curiosity that drew him here, but he did know as soon as he saw the stack of folded afghans being placed in a box at the shelter that this is where he’d end up. On first approach, the cottage doesn’t appear much different than the one in the Upside-down. The tiny home still remained obscured by tall sugar maples and eastern white pines. White curls of paint still clinging to the old timber walls next to sturdy black shutters. But the well-tended beds of colorful flowers that line the walkways and front of the cottage give it a more inviting feel. 

His shoes scrape up the stone steps, where he stops to take a fortifying breath preparing to see the woman that used to haunt his bad dreams. His knuckles wrap against the door while flashes of himself cutting away vines play in his mind.

“Mrs. Willard,” he calls after hearing a series of loud coughs on the other side of the door. 

“Just a minute. Just a minute,” Her voice gets closer as he hears the locks being worked before the door swings open, “Jesum crow, give an old lady a minute to get to the door.” 

Anne Willard’s full height barely put her at the center of Steve’s chest. Her poof of white curls gave her an extra few inches, as well as the sensible black shoes that adorned her feet. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any,” she huffs, ready to slam the door.

“I’m not selling anything, ma’am,” Steve says, giving her one of his best smiles, “I’m Steve Harrington, a volunteer from the shelter over at the middle school. I don’t think anyone thanked you for donating all those blankets, so I wanted to stop by and ask if there was anything I could help you with around your property.”

“Help me?” She takes a step forward, her balled hands landing on her hips, head tipped up to look Steve in the eye, “Do you think I’m senile? Can’t take care of myself?”

“No, ma’am. I know you’re alone out here, and I thought I could be useful.”

“Humph. Well, I guess we’ll have just to wait and see about that,” she says, her clear blue eyes as sharp as a woman half her age, “You better come inside then.”

She turns on her heel, leaving the door open, and Steve with no choice but to follow her. His eyes roam the familiar space. She must not have changed a thing in her home since time stopped in the Upside-down. He feels like he’s lived a lifetime here instead of only a few days. 

“Tea,” Mrs. Willard says, raising her finger as she starts down the hall leading to the kitchen. Steve follows her, ghosts echoing in his heart as he passes the closed door of the bedroom where he made love to you. 

The kitchen is the same, with brighter sunlight pouring through the windows and backdoor. Fresh flowers stuffed in pitchers dot surfaces between the knit-covered crockery. The older woman stops in front of the butcher block countertop, pushing up on her toes to reach for two mugs from the open shelving. 

“Let me do that, Mrs. Willard,” Steve says, reaching beside her and retrieving the mugs.

“Enough with the Missus stuff. Anyone who makes tea in my kitchen calls me Anne,” she says, shuffling to the table and sitting, “The kettle is right there on the–” 

But Steve already has the kettle filling. The knited cozy folded neatly near the stove.

“Well, you certainly know your way around a kitchen,” she says, looking at him with a curious eye as he starts the kettle boiling and drops the teabags into the cups. 

“I remember you,” she says when he turns and leans against the counter, “I know your mother. You used to run around town with your little gang like you were the Prince of Hawkins. So tell me, have you done any growing up since then?”

“I’d like to think so,” he says as the kettle starts to sing. He pulls it from the stove, pouring water into each mug, and brings both cups to the table.

“Now,” she says, folding her hands in her lap while waiting for the tea to steep, “Is there anything I need doin’? Let’s see, I had the gutters cleaned a few months back. I mow my own lawn and tend to the garden. Besides that, there’s not much else to do. My Jacob built this whole place himself, and it’s just as sturdy as the day we moved in.”

“You have a beautiful home, Anne,” he comments, trying out her first name. “You don’t see places built this solid.” The cottage was the only house they came across in the Upside-Down that was mainly untouched by the decay.

“He built it as a wedding gift. He knew I loved the lake. I just wish we had more years here together. So much wasted time.”

“How long were you married?”

“Forty-three wonderful years. Not enough,” she smiles sadly, sorting through her memories. “We got married at nineteen, but that was considered late at the time. We met when I was sixteen, and everyone knew Jacob was sweet on me right from the start. Walking me home, and bringing me flowers, but every time he asked to take me out, I turned him down flat. I thought he was too good for me. You see, Jacob was from a very well-to-do family. Things like that mattered so much more back then. I told him he shoulda been courting Ellen-Mae Sattler. Her family owned the quarry and half the town. It was no secret she had her sights set on him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Every time I sent him away, he’d just come right back.”

“How did he finally convince you,” Steve asks, completely wrapped up in her story.

“Well, one day he just showed up with a ring and said, ‘I love you, Annie, and if you turn me down, it’s not going to make one lick of difference cause I’m just gonna keep on loving you anyway.’ We got married three days later." Her lip quivers as her eyes turn glossy. "The Lord knows I miss that man every day. Suppose I’ll be joining him soon enough.”

“I know he’ll be waiting, Anne,” Steve says, covering her hand with his.

“Oh well, now I’ve gotten all weepy,” she says, picking up a napkin to dab at her eyes. “Now, what about you, young man? Do you got a girl out there that you love like that?”

“Yeah,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips, “I definitely do.”

A bright flash lights up your small living room, follows a round of thunder rattling the rain-streaked windows. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself as you sit on your worn couch with your knees pulled up, tucked under your oversized Perdue sweatshirt, you take deep soothing breaths. There have been storms since you’ve returned, but not like this. Not the kind that has the entire sky dark and purple with near-constant thunder. Not the kind with so much lighting, the hair on your arms stands up straight, and you can feel electricity buzzing in the air. It’s taken you right back there, and this time you’re alone. 

With another loud boom, the lamp in the corner of the room cuts out, and the room falls into near darkness. “One-two-three,” you count, trying to keep your voice steady and breathing even. As suddenly as it turned off, the light flares on, and the display on your VCR flashes zeros. A deep sigh escapes your chest just as the door buzzer sounds.

Your muscles are stiff with tension as you stand up, moving towards the intercom, “Who is it?”

“It’s Steve.” The sound of his voice is barely audible over the pouring rain. One hand moves to your mouth while your thumb punches the button, unlocking the door. Here he is, saving you again.

Your fingers shake as you work the locks as quickly as you can, opening the door to him standing there half-drenched, hair dripping onto the collar of his soaked gray jacket, a wet crumpled bag in his right hand. He hasn’t taken a full step over the threshold when you are crushing yourself into his chest, your arms going around his middle. Stiffening, he swallows hard before dropping the bag, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He’s freezing but somehow still filling you with warmth.

“I’m sorry,” you say against his chest, “The storm.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, pulling you closer, letting his hands trail up and down your back, “you’re alright.”

The feel of his lips ghosting at your temple brings you back to awareness, and you step away from him, heat rising from your chest to your cheeks. “Sorry,” you say again, yanking on the cuffs of your sweatshirt, “You picked a good time to drop by,” you chuckle, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Yeah?” he laughs with you, “Would you mind if I come in then?”

“Ohmygod,” you cover your face with your hands, “Of course.” 

Your eyes shift around your kitchen, trying to remember what you might have left out as he picks up his bag and follows you through your apartment into your living room. A small one-bedroom subsidized by the university, is a step up from the dorms you were lucky to get. The galley kitchen leads into the small living room, big enough for a sofa and a desk, that surface overflows with books and papers. 

“Nice place,” he says, concern filling him as he watches you flinch with the next flash of lightning.

“Thanks.” You stand in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do now, watching as he unzips his wet jacket revealing a crisp Polo. He carefully folds it, trying to avoid tracking more water through your apartment, and looks around for somewhere he can put it down.

“Let me get you a towel,” you say, rushing from the room down the narrow hallway, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The wind picks up outside. The storm is right over you now. Branches of the tree outside your bedroom sway back and forth, scraping against your windows. The bi-fold doors of the overstuffed closet stick when you try to pull them open. 

“Shit,” you cry when they won’t budge more than an inch.

“Everything okay?” Steve’s worried voice calls from the living room.

The lights flicker as quick snaps of lightning flash like a strobe while you tug harder on the handles. Thunderclaps roar loud enough to shake the entire building as the doors burst open with one last tug that sends you falling backward onto your butt as half your closet empties onto the floor. 

“No,” you press your hands to your cheeks, overwhelmed as panic and frustration claw their way up inside you. Ignoring how your head swims, you move to your knees, chasing loose geodes scattered across the floor, when you feel his hands on your shoulders. 

“Leave it for now,” he says, his warm hands covering your shaking ones as he helps you to your feet. “It’s not important. We’ll get it cleaned up in a minute.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you nod, trying to slow your breathing.

“It’s okay.” He cups your jaw, tipping your head back so you’re focused on him. The deep hazel of his eyes pulls you in. “Stay with me. I’ve got you, okay? It’s you and me.” 

Your hands move to his chest, bunching the fabric into your fists, bringing him closer. Despite the questions that swirl lost somewhere in your mind, you can’t deny yourself the comfort he offers. 

“I won’t leave you.” His chest tightens, hoping this is a promise he’s allowed to keep. 

“Why aren’t you in Boston?” you ask as a tear spills over your lash line.

“Honey,” his eyes soften as his thumb strokes your cheek, “I was never going to Boston.”

As his arms move around you, bringing you close, you let out a breath that you feel you’ve been holding since you woke up in the hospital. One that has been keeping you from falling to pieces because now you can—he’s holding you together. 

Without leaving the safety of his arms, you let him lead you to the couch. Your head finds a home on his chest, and you bring your legs up, curling into him. Something warm gets tucked around you. He holds you close as the storm rages outside, his heartbeat lulling you into calm. At some point, your eyes must have closed because the sound of light rain is the next thing you remember.

“It passed,” Steve says, tightening his hold on you when he feels you stirring, hoping he doesn’t have to let you go yet. Content to stay, you snuggle in deeper, tugging the afghan tighter around you both. The familiar softness of the downy yarn catches your attention. 

“Wait, where did you get this?” you ask, sitting up, the scalloped edges running between your fingers, give way to a pattern of multicolored flowers. 

“I went to the cottage. Mrs. Willard gave it to me, but I knew right away that it belonged with you.” His arm slides from your shoulder, traveling the length of your back.

“You went there?” An ache runs rampant through your chest. As the sensible voice inside you begs you not to let him climb through the cracks into your heart.

“I needed to see it,” he takes your hand, eager to keep the connection, “it was exactly the same. She hasn’t changed a thing. I asked if she needed any help, but as it turned out, the only thing she needed was someone to listen.”

"And what did she say?"

“She just talked,” he shrugs. “She told me about her husband and their life together. It made me realize how much time I’ve wasted,” he lifts his eyes to yours, “You were right, I know what I want. I want you. You’re the one I can’t live without.”

After all these weeks, the words you didn't dare dream of fall easily from his lips. Leaving what was left of your battered armor to shatter and fall away.  

“I should never have left you in the hospital, and I should never have said goodbye. I should have fought for you like I did there. I know you don’t think we belong together, but you loved me. Is there any part of you that still does?”

“I never stopped.” The tears run down your face faster than you can wipe them away. “I can’t. I love you, Steve.”

His eyes light up at your confession. His lips pull tight into a smile as he leans forward, dipping his head, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“I love you,” you start again, choking on the words, “But there are things you don’t know about. Things that could change your mind.”

The secret you’ve been keeping is a band on your heart, constricting its beats. One that you know will change everything.

“Honey, whatever it is…I love you. We survived the world burning down around us. We can make it through anything.” 

His hand moves to your neck, but you push him away, “No, Steve, you don’t understand,” you hiccup as the tears blur your vision. “I should have told you.”

“It’s okay. I promise,” His thumbs wipe away your tears, “Let me get you some water, and you can tell me.” He stands, leaving you for the kitchen while you try to find a way to tell him. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that Steve would do the right thing, and that’s exactly why you couldn’t tell him. He would stay with you out of obligation, and one morning you’d wake up to resentment written all over his face as he trudges through the day instead of living out his dreams. You won’t take that from him. So you’ll tell him, and then you’ll let him go for the last time taking your heart with him. The cabinet bumping closed reminds you of what's pinned on your fridge.

“Steve, wait!” you scramble toward the kitchen, but you're too late. He turns the corner, his eyes lowered to the ultrasound photos he’s carrying in his hands.

You stand still, quiet sobs wracking your chest, like a chess piece on a board waiting to see if his next move will knock you down. 

His eyes finally rise, full of hurt and shock. "You're having my baby."

You owe him so much more than the nod of your head, but the words stay lodged in your throat. The sound of soft rain hitting the windows fills the silence between you. He carefully sets the strip of scans on your desk, making sure they have their own spot like they’re something precious. He staggers toward you, moving slowly like he’s afraid to frighten you, his face still in a daze.

“I’m sorry,” you manage as he stops before you. He shakes his head from side to side, keeping his eyes lowered. 

“You don’t have to…”

Your words trail off as he sinks to his knees. Placing a gentle hand on your belly, he leans forward until his forehead rests softly beside it.

“Hi,” he whispers, “I’m your dad.”

His fingers stroke feather light where his child is growing inside you. He’s never imagined anything more beautiful.

“You want us?” you ask in whispered tones, “Are you sure?”

“Honey, you’re giving me family. It’s all I have ever wanted.” His lips press softly against your belly.

Your breath leaves your lungs in a whoosh taking your fears with it. The love you feel for him—him and the part of him inside you, cracks open your heart until it’s filling every part of you with such a force you’re surprised you can’t see it glowing under your skin.

“Are they okay?” he asks, lifting his head, keeping his hand where it is, his eyes glossy as he looks up at you, “Is the baby okay? The Upside-down..”

“Yes,” you say, interrupting, not wanting him to worry for a second, “The baby’s fine. Developing normally. I had the ultrasound early, to be sure.” You cover his hand with yours, and he sighs in clear relief, his other hand grabbing your hip.

“You're my reason. Both of you,” he says, pulling you closer, “I’ve never been more sure.”

“You’re mine too,” you say, dropping to the floor to join him, your hand moving to his stubbled cheek, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore,” his hand cradles the back of your head, “I love you, and I’m going to take care of you if you’ll let me?”

“How about we take care of each other?”

His lips stretch into a smile before he leans forward, and they close over yours. "Deal," he agrees, going back for another kiss. 

Your arms wind around his neck as he pulls you tightly against him. The plush of his lips working lazily around yours. Steve was right. He had held you like this while the world burned around you, expecting your last act to be loving each other. A love that is rare and true and written in the stars. A love that will survive the test of time. Time that neither one of you will take for granted. Living fully in each minute, watching your love grow into a family. You can feel all this in the press of his lips. The stories of your future are printed there. 

"I love you," he says again because he wants you to know loving you was never a choice. His fingers move under the edge of your sweatshirt lighting trails of fire along your skin as his kiss changes from slow to hungry. 

"Can I touch you?" He asks. Even though his hands are already on you, he wants your permission to go further. 

"Please," you pant, already on the edge of being consumed with want, "I need you, Steve."

"I need you too, honey. Need to know you're mine." His hands lift the edge of your sweatshirt, and you raise your arms, helping him rid you of it. He barely glimpses what he's uncovered before you pull at his Polo, stretching the fabric in your greed to feel his skin against yours. He takes you back in his arms, and it feels like home. Your soft skin a contrast to the thatch of hair on his chest as you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own. The wet slide of his kiss only makes you want more. Want all of him. 

Your whimpers drive his urgency as he lets you go to retrieve a pillow from the couch and carefully lays you back on it. His fingers grip the waistband of shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs. 

"You look so pretty all laid out for me," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before sitting back on his heels, his big hand landing where your knees are pushed together, "but I want to see all of you."

Your fingers trace your kiss-bitten lips, feeling the ghost of his as your thighs fall open, revealing the glossy evidence of exactly what he does to you. His fingers run absently up and down your inner thigh as he looks his fill wearing the expression of a man about to take what's his. 

"Steve," you whine, feeling impatient while your hands move to your breasts adding a graceful slow roll of your hips to remind him he can do more than just look. 

"Fuck, honey. How did I ever stay away from you?" he asks, crawling over to place a kiss just above your belly button, the first in a slow trail ending at the top of your pussy. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you open for his first slow lick up your center that sends your back arching off the floor.

“You taste so good. I’m already addicted,” he says, eyes catching yours before his mouth closes over you in a wet assault, tongue swirling through your folds, drawing circles around your clit.

“No one,” you gasp, clawing at the carpet while your hips fight against the press of his hands, “No one has ever made me feel this way.”

You can feel him smile against you as he slides two fingers inside your velvety heat moving in and out of you steadily, curling upward to brush against the spot that adds a new layer of euphoria radiating through you.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel like this,” he pauses to kiss the plush of your thigh. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he returns his attention back to your pleasure. He groans with your gentle tugs, the vibrations rippling against your core. 

“Need to get you ready for me, honey,” he says, adding a third finger. Biting down on your lip, you hiss through your teeth at the slight sting of the stretch. He gives you time to adjust, waiting until your slick soaks his fingers.

His pace quickens, changing those quick jolts of lighting into a blur of rapture. Your walls tighten as your body tenses. Your chorus of desperate moans his new favorite tune. 

"That's it, give it all to me. Cum for me, beautiful." His lips close over your clit, sucking in short bursts. Your blood sings with the new sensations rushing through you, turning molten as you rise like a fiery star.

Calling his name, you fall over the edge into bliss, the world ceasing to exist beyond your connection. He helps you float down with gentle touches and light kisses placed on your belly. He can’t fight back his smile as he looks down at you. A face that he memorized every detail of, now glowing with his love and his child. He didn’t have to die to become the man he wanted to be. He just had to open his heart.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s there, deep moss swirling with amber and gold filled with love. From the first moment you met, you placed your faith in him, and fate has led you to a love you never thought you’d find. After the uncertainty, the struggles, and the fears have fallen away, love is all that is left between you.

He’s chosen you, and you, him. Once in another world and again in this one. A life together that was fought for and hard-won. As the page turns, you’re no longer fearful of what's next, knowing you’ll be together. Whatever lies ahead, you’ll take his hand and welcome the adventure.

Epilogue 

"And that's why you don’t take life for granite."

A chorus of groans erupts as the students gather their books and papers when the shrill bell sounds over the loudspeaker.

"Hey, I better start getting some more laughs out of you all, or I'll be forced to assign more homework," you call out over your shoulder as you erase the formulas you had written on the blackboard.

"Will we see you later, Mrs. Harrington?" says the ringleader of a group of four boys lingering around your desk. 

"Sorry, guys. No AV club tonight," you tell them as you settle into the creaking chair behind your wooden desk, "I've got plans. Next week, alright?"

"I bet you're going to be busy getting set up to watch the Perseid meteor shower?" questions Travis, the overly enthusiastic one. With a mouth full of braces and a head full of curls, he reminds you of someone else you know. 

"Something like that," you smile, thinking about your plans as you tidy the papers on your desk, adjusting the large geode next to your nameplate. 

"Alright, see you tomorrow," they concede, shuffling out, their disappointment already forgotten by the time they make it to the door. 

"See you tomorrow," you call after them as Tina, an 8th grader with hearts in her eyes, squeezes past them into the doorway.

"A policeman in the office is asking to see you, Mrs. Harrington."

"Thank you, Tina. Can you please tell him I'll meet him outside?" you can barely hide your smile, knowing exactly why he’s here.

"Sure," she says, leaning her head against the edge of the door frame, "He's really dreamy."

“Alright, Tina,” your eyes roll, “Get to where you're supposed to be.”

She’s quick to follow instruction as you finish preparing for your next class. Leaving your room, you walk through the quiet halls and across the empty gym, the sound of your heels clicking against polished floors. Pushing open the set of double doors at the far end, a warm hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you outside into the shade of the building and maneuvers you up against the hard brick wall.

“Mmm,” you whine as Steve pulls away the collar of your blouse and attaches his lips to the spot where your pulse is speeding up, “You're going to get me in trouble,” your voice already breathless, as your hands move to his head holding him there.

“I can’t help it,” he says, running his hands along your sides, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You’ve got me so distracted.”

“Is that so?” you ask as his lips brush over yours.

“That’s so.” His thumb tugs at your chin, coaxing you to open so he can take the kiss deeper. “I can’t even concentrate..” His words trail off as his mouth takes yours, kissing you like he did that very first time. Like you’re the only woman in the world. Like he adores you.

“Steve,” you mumble against his lip as your hands smooth up the front of the crisp tight-fitting blue button-up. Seeing him in uniform never fails to make you ache with need. The top two buttons are always undone, revealing the white shirt he wears underneath with just a glimpse of the hair on his chest showing and a shiny silver badge pinned just left of his heart. Your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck that he still wears too long to be regulation.

“What did the doctor say this morning?” He asks as one of his hands slides lower on your hip, down the side of your skirt, dipping just under the hem.

“He gave me the all clear,” you breathe out, pulling his mouth back to yours as his hand continues to climb until it finds the lacy edge of your stocking and the garter it’s attached to. 

"Are you wearing lingerie?" His fingers get bolder seeking out more of the lace. 

"It's new," you answer, grinding yourself against his hardening length, “I thought you deserved it. You’ve been taking such good care of everything since the baby.”

“Jesus, honey,” he groans, tipping his head back and slapping his hand against the rough wall of the building, “How am I going to wait until the kids are in bed?”

“You won’t have to. Hopper is picking up the boys after hockey, and Joyce already has the baby,”  two of your fingers start walking down the front of his shirt, brushing against the leather of his belt, heading lower to the flat front of his tight black pants. “We’ll have the house to ourselves until tomorrow.” 

“What about Fate?” He asks, his eyebrows pulling together, always the protector of his other favorite girl.

“She’s having a girl's night with El and Max.” you smile, knowing he would ask about your oldest. You set up this plan weeks ago. Waiting to be together after the birth of your babies is just as hard on you as it is on him.

“You’re sneaky.” His hand reaches around you to give your ass a little squeeze.

“You love it,” you admit pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he says as the bell rings again, projected through the speaker over your heads. 

“I’ve got to go,” you swat his hand away so you can straighten your skirt.

“Not yet,” he pouts, using a finger to trace your neckline, pulling it away from your body, “Just let me have a little peek,” he tries looking down the front of your blouse.

“Get out of here,” you laugh, giving him a gentle push.

“Fine,” he grumbles with a smile, turning to walk back to where his cruiser is parked. 

“Tonight,” you call, making him turn and look back at you.

“Tonight,” he says, raising the fingers of his left hand to his lips, the sun glinting off the gold band on his fourth finger, “and forever.”

The End

AN: Thank you so much for sticking with this little series. It challenged me in ways that I never expected, but I learned a lot writing it.

[amhrosina]

To Be Loved (Namor x f!Reader)

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A/N: I read a Druig fic with this concept like a year ago and it’s stuck with me since then. However, I’ve searched through an entire year’s worth of tumblr fics & ao3 bookmarks, and I still can’t find it. If you know who came up with this concept, PLEASE tag them or let me know! I would like to credit them for the idea! Also, I can’t stop writing Namor (and I won’t, I love that man so much).

Update: A very kind soul found the fic that inspired this one and sent me their @! It was @itsapeterthing who originally wrote this concept and you should definitely check the Druig fic out!

Summary: Reader is an Eternal (you don’t have to know the movie to understand the fic) who can time travel. We follow her as she visits her lover, Namor, in different stages of his life over a 500-year time period. 

(Warnings: no big ones, some descriptions of war I guess?, soft!Namor, this is pure fluff like I somehow made myself fall more in love with him writing this??) 

Translations: 

in yakunaj – my love 

pixan – my soul 

ki'ichpanech – pretty girl 

Namor was being watched, though he didn’t know it yet. As he stood on the outskirts of his mother’s homeland, holding his mother’s body in his arms, the beauty of her memories was tarnished, ripped to shreds by slavers with whips and hatred in their hearts. Namor was a boy of ten and two, barely old enough to grasp the responsibilities he’d inherited in his birth, but strong enough already to understand the gravity of the situation in front of him.  

The hatred that burned in his heart mirrored the flames he’d set to his mother’s homelands, his homeland, which had become a falsity so grand that he could no longer contain the rage within him. It was a wound that wouldn’t heal, a festering cesspool of a memory that would play in his mind for years afterwards. This day would go down in his people’s history as the day the boy-king became a man. 

From a young age, laying his mother to rest was something Namor knew he was going to have to do, but no amount of time could have prepared him for the overwhelming heartbreak he felt as he laid her down in her final resting place. He remained by her side, content to sit with her body for as long as he pleased, but he knew he would eventually have to return to Talokan.  

All the while, an unfamiliar set of eyes peeked at him through the brush. You would not reveal yourself to him, not quite yet. This moment, as important as it was to Namor’s moral compass and the man he would grow to be, was not a moment you felt the need to share with him. You had travelled through time and space to be here, at present-day Namor’s request, and you would not interfere with this moment.  

The young Namor, the one that was blissfully unaware of your presence, knelt down and whispered his last goodbyes to the woman who raised him. You remained in your kneeling position amongst the greenery, unwilling to move until you were sure Namor had gone. When the last of his people returned to the sea, you stood, shaking the ache from your knees.  

You tapped into your power, the warm hum traveling through your body as you focused on returning to the present, to your home where Namor was likely waiting for you. It was only a snap of your fingers, a quick blink of your eyes, and suddenly you were in familiar territory again.  

The walls around you were filled to the brim with Namor’s art, painted over the centuries. They told the story of him, showcasing different memories that he deemed important. The first one, the one you’d just returned from visiting, was a small painting of his mother, lying in her shallow grave.  

“How was it, my love?” Namor’s voice carried from the above water chambers you shared, his voice so warm and deep that he might as well have been standing right next to you.  

You peeked your head around the corner, spying his relaxed form in his favorite armchair. You had spent hours there, wrapped in his warm embrace. It was your favorite place to be, too.  

You scurried forward, eager to take your designated spot in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his protective hold. You looked down at him, placing a soft kiss on his brow before cupping his cheeks.  

“It was informative, my King. I can see why you were so angry when we met.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs in an attempt to soothe the ache.  

“I spent many years after that day consumed with vengeance. It was only when I met you that I learned I still had the capacity to love.”  

“I’m sorry, my love, for the hurt humans have caused your people throughout the years.” You winced at the thought of Namor consumed by anything but love. 

“Don’t apologize, in yakunaj. You will see the man I became to protect my people, and you will see me as my enemies saw me. I did not know mercy for a very long time, and I fear you will not like the man I thought I had to be.” 

“I will always love you, K’uk’ulkan. Nothing,” you gripped his jaw for emphasis, “will ever change that.”  

Namor gripped your hand, pressing his lips into your knuckles. “I am undeserving of it, but I will accept it anyways, pixan. I am greedy like that.”  

He smiled, and your heart warmed at the sight. At one point, it had been decades since a smile had graced his beautiful face, so you always cherished the smiles he sent you, even if you got to see it all the time now. 

“Where am I going next?” You asked, glancing at the wall of art.  

“To our favorite place to hide away, before it was ours.” He nodded to a small, somewhat hidden section of the wall that had always been one of your favorites. You grinned in response. 

- 

Namor looked over the landscape in front of him, a little envious of the humans that got to see it every day. The view his hiding spot offered was a spectacular array of gold and red, surrounded by lakes and rivers, and if he didn’t have a million things waiting for him back at home, he might want to appreciate it more. The sea was his home, but he couldn’t help the desire to explore the surface every once in a while.  

Home. The empire he had built with his bare hands. Hidden from the world, protected from human interference. Namor was proud of his people and what they had achieved, but he had spent so many years fueled by anger that he feared he may have forgotten the beauty of living along the way. He was lonely, and he could not let this weakness lead his people into their graves. This hiding place was a respite from all of that, but the loneliness tended to follow him here.  

A sharp buzzing interrupted his thoughts, and he swung around, ready to defend himself. A being, no – a woman, stepped into the clearing. Namor studied her. A human? No. He could feel the power drumming in her veins, and he tried to make sense of her human-looking face. A threat? Maybe.  

You raised your hands in an innocent gesture. “I’m not here to hurt you.” 

Namor couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving his throat. No one, no one, could hurt him.  

“Who are you?” He pointed his spear at your heart, ready to drive it deep in your chest at the slightest movement.  

You murmured your name. “We’ve met before.” 

“I think I would remember meeting you.” His brow furrowed. 

“Not yet, I mean. It won’t happen for another few centuries.” 

Namor’s confusion grew, and you reached towards your sleeve, rolling it up a few inches. The bracelet Namor had given you was tied around your wrist, and you held it up for his inspection. He balked. That was his mother’s bracelet, and he knew for a fact that it was tucked away in a safe space, miles under the sea.  

“You gave it to me a few years ago. You sent me here, K’uk’ulkan, many years in the future. It’s hard to explain.” You scratched the back of your neck. “The paintings on your cavern walls tell a story, and he, you, wanted me to experience them with him, er, you. Is this making any sense?”  

Namor eyed you carefully but lowered his spear.  

“I feel your power, deep in here,” he gestured to his chest, “but I do not understand it. It’s different from mine.”  

You smiled and lifted your hand, allowing a tiny sliver of your power to form into a ball in your palm. A stark yellow lit the clearing. The orb pulsed with power, and Namor took a step forward. Present-day Namor was also enamored with the way your power manifested and loved watching you create different shapes with it in your palm.  

Namor stepped closer, watching the orb float in the space above your hand.  

“How?” He asked, flicking his gaze up at you.  

“You will understand it, one day, in yakunaj.” You fell into your natural pattern with him, even though the man standing in front of you was centuries away from the man you knew and loved.  

Namor startled at your ability to speak his language so easily, and then inhaled sharply when he realized what you had just called him. He knew he should’ve been hightailing it home by now. This display of power could mean trouble for his people, and it was his duty to protect them, but the gentle caress of your power in his chest rooted him to the spot. His curiosity always did get the best of him.  

“You speak my language?” He asked in his mother tongue, too enthralled with you to worry about the rules he was breaking by doing so.  

You nodded, watching as the power faded back into your hand. “I know many languages.” 

“We are...together in your time?” He asked, looking over you again.  

“Yes. We are bonded, though that probably doesn’t mean anything to you right now. It will, one day.” You paused. “I must return to my time.” You gestured towards the forest, even though you didn’t technically have to move your body anywhere to jump forward in time.  

“Will I see you again? Before we officially meet?” He asked, taking a step closer to you.  

“Would you like to see me again?” You returned, tilting your head curiously.  

“Yes.” Namor said bluntly.  

“Then you will see me again, in yakunaj.” 

In a flash, you were gone, and Namor spent a long moment staring at the spot you had been standing in moments before. He wondered how long he would have to wait to see you again and hoped it wouldn’t be too long of a wait. 

- 

Namor waited decades for you, searching for you in every face he came across. His cousin and closest confidante, Namora, didn’t miss the excitement buzzing under his skin every time he had to leave for the surface. He finally told her of your existence after years of holding the secret close to his heart. She was cautious, warning him of the surface dweller’s wrongdoings, but he couldn’t think of you in the same way that he thought of them. You were different, gentler, and he spent the vast majority of his free time thinking about you.  

The night that you finally reappeared was a night of celebration for his people. It was Winter Solstice – the one night of the year that his people freely travelled between the sea and the sand. It was always a huge party, but he had spent the majority of it stewing in his longing for you. He had almost convinced himself you were a dream of his when you appeared. 

You stood towards the back of the crowd, looking up at the stars. Namor’s heart thundered in his chest as he approached you, unsure of what to say to the person he had spent the last 80 years of his life longing to see. Fortunately, you spoke first, and he wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone after only meeting them once.  

“There are so many stars here. The doesn't look like this anymore, where I’m from. The surface dwellers have many flaws, and I think that is probably their worst transgression.” 

Namor said the only thing that he could think of in response.  

“I missed you.”  

You smiled bashfully, turning to look at him for the first time in 80 years.  

“I know. Thank you for being patient, in yakunaj. I go where he sends me, and there is always a good reason for it.” 

“Is he...like me? I mean, are we the same, or do you see us as different people?”  

“That is a hard question. You are the same Namor I know, but you are also different. At your core, though, you are the same man that I love in my time.” 

You looked back at the sky, shifting your body to stand next to his. A somber expression formed on your face, and he couldn’t help but brush the back of his hand against yours.  

“What is it, ki'ichpanech?”  

“I want you to enjoy this night, in yakunaj, because you will not have another one this easy for a very long time.” 

A cold chill ran down Namor’s spine. The conviction in which you spoke left little room for denial, and he could not ignore the uneasy feeling building in his stomach.  

“What do you mean?” He finally asked, breathing deeply. 

“I mean,” you paused, linking your pinky in his, “he chose this moment for me to visit for a reason. I cannot tell you details, because even I do not know them, but you will have to face an unimaginable threat, and it will be very hard for you. I will not return until after the carnage, and I want you to enjoy tonight, because you will have a hard time enjoying anything for many years afterwards.” 

He looked out into the sea, processing your warning. He wasn’t aware of any threats to his people, but the pleading look in your eyes told him he would soon face horrors, maybe outright war.  

“How long will it be before I see you again?” He asked, taking your hand in his and lightly squeezing it.  

“Do not worry about such trivial things, in yakunaj. Everything will right itself in time.” 

Your tone left no room for argument, not that Namor would want to argue with you anyways. You tugged him further away from the crowd, turning to face him after the darkness had blanketed you from the light of the party. You rested your palms on his cheeks, pulling his forehead down and pressing it against yours.  

“Be strong, my King. You will be pushed beyond what you believe your strength to be, but do not let that break you. You are a force to be reckoned with, and you will do anything to protect your people. Remember your strength, and above all, remember that there is love in your heart, even if you cannot feel it yet.”  

You pushed your lips against his in a chaste motion. It was over before it had even begun, and when Namor opened his eyes, you were gone. Namor clutched his chest, attempting to remember the feeling of your body against his.  

Your warning rang true a few days later, when the borders of Talokan were breached for the first time in its history. The water surrounding the city remained a misty red for months afterward.  

- 

Namor pushed his spear deeper into the chest of the enemy King, finally ending the slaughter that had plagued him and his people for many years. The jungle around him rang with a silence so sickening that he fell to his knees. He hung his head low, exhausted from the fight. You had been right about everything, and the only thing that had kept him fighting for this moment of triumph was the speech you’d given him all those years ago.  

The guilt of his warrior’s deaths weighed heavily on his shoulders. It didn’t seem fair, that he would continue living after so many of his people had to mourn the loss of their family members. Their family members, who had died fighting his fight. The weight was almost too much to bear, and he was suddenly glad that he was alone.  

His people did not deserve to see his pity-party. He slammed his fists into the ground, letting out a brutish grunt. It was over, but his mind was still reeling. The sound of your soft footsteps brought him out of his rage. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was hoarse as he pleaded with you not to see him like this.  

“I am here, all the same.” You waved your hand in a nonchalant motion, lowering your body into a kneeling position in front of him.  

He couldn’t look at you. The awfulness of what he had done, of the person he had to become to defeat this threat was so far beneath you, and he couldn’t imagine anyone loving the broken man he had become. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to stop them from falling.  

“You should go.” He pleaded with you, shaking his head at the thought of you being so close to the gory battlefield he had just fought on.  

“I will not leave you, in yakunaj, just as you would not leave me if our positions were switched.”  

You reached forward, gently wrapping your hands around his wrists. The steady drum of your power grounded his thoughts for a moment, and he prayed to the universe that your touch wouldn’t leave him. He didn’t move for what felt like hours, cherishing the warmth in his chest at having you so close to him after so long.  

“I cannot stand being apart from you like this.” He mumbled, head still hung low.  

“It is not for much longer, my King. One day, not so far in the future, we will be together.” 

“How much longer must I live with this torment of longing I feel when you’re gone?” 

You cupped his cheeks, swiping at the dirt and grime that coated his face with your thumbs.  

“Soon, my love. I promise.”  

You walked with him as he made his way back to the sea, the urge within him to return home too strong to deny any longer. There weren’t many words spoken between the two of you, but words didn’t seem necessary. You were here, and you were a gentle reminder that his future was bright, and that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.  

When Namor stepped onto the beach, the bobbing heads of Namora and Attuma a few hundred yards out at sea caught his eye. They would return to Talokan with the news that their King had come out triumphant, and that the war was officially over.  

You watched as their heads dipped below the surface before facing him.  

“I have been gone for too long. I must go.” Namor’s grip on your hands tightened, unwilling to let you go so soon.  

“Stay. Please stay.”  

You smiled warmly, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “I cannot, in yakunaj. I must return to the present. But I will leave you with a gift, so that you don’t forget me while I’m gone.”  

“I could never forget you, ki'ichpanech. Even if you don’t return for 1,000 years, I will still remember you.”  

You smiled, pulling your hands out of his. You cupped your palms together, tapping into your power until the yellow orb appeared, floating between the two of you.  

“Take this with you. It will shine brightly in Talokan. Bring your people the sun, K’uk’ulkan, after the dark times this war has brought with it.” You pushed the orb into his hands, releasing the speck of power from your being.  

Namor gasped, shaking his head. “I cannot do that. This is yours.” He tried to push it back into your chest, but you wouldn’t accept it.  

“It will be mine again, one day, in yakunaj. Until then, let it guide your people. Let it guide your heart.”  

Namor looked at you, wide eyed. The orb floated around his body, refusing to move further than a few inches from his skin.  

“I do not know what to say, ki'ichpanech, other than that I am undeserving of this gift.”  

“You will take it anyway,” you say, patting the area of his chest near his heart. Your hand lingered on his skin, and he could not stop himself from crashing his lips into yours. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He held you tightly against his body, arms wrapped fully around your waist in a tight embrace.  

You pulled away, gently cradling his face. “Stay safe, my King. I will see you soon.”  

Namor stumbled forward in your sudden absence, and he couldn’t help the frustrated grunt he let out. Soon had better be soon, or he’d start scouring the Earth for signs of you.  

- 

Namor had not expected to see you so soon. It had only been a few years since your last encounter, and after the enormous stints of time between your previous meetings, he had not expected you for another few decades. An enormous eruption from the sea had beckoned him far from Talokan, the furthest he’d been from his home in years. 

Something was different this time. Unlike your previous appearances, where you’d appeared seemingly out of thin air, this time you were accompanied by a small group of people. Your hair was disheveled, and it looked like you and the people around you had been fighting something, something huge.  

He rushed onto the beach towards you. If there was a threat to you, he’d eliminate it faster than you could blink. It wasn’t so much a choice, but more of an instinct. He stumbled forward when he felt the full brunt of power between you and your friends.  

Oh. They were like you.  

Your friends stiffened when they noticed him, but your smile was the only thing he could focus on as he made his way towards you. This felt different because it was different. You weren’t here from your present. This was the present, and he was about to officially meet you. He was suddenly glad you hadn’t told him the details of your first meeting because he hadn’t had time to grow anxious about it.  

You met him halfway across the beach, jumping into his arms when you got close enough to reach him. He pulled you into a hug, wondering if he could get away with never letting go of you again. 

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ve met before, ki'ichpanech.” He mumbled into your ear. 

“Yes, we have.” You let out a light laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek.  

Namor’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out how this version of you could know who he was, or how you would know about your previous meetings since they technically hadn’t happened yet. He shook his head. The thought of it gave him a headache, and he wasn’t going to try and figure that one out on his own.  

“You are here to stay, right?” He asked, hopeful.  

“Yes, in yakunaj, I’m here to stay.”  

Namor kissed you sweetly, arms still wrapped around you. He wouldn’t be letting go of you for a while, and you seemed perfectly okay with that.  

- 

When you stumbled back into the present for the final time, Namor was stretched out in the bed you shared with him. It was late, much later than you had intended on being, and you opened your mouth to explain your absence before realizing that Namor would remember the encounter with you, and likely already understood why you had been gone for so long. You crawled into the bed next to him, pressing a kiss into his bare shoulder before cuddling into his side. 

“Now you have seen me at my worst.” Namor’s voice was a hushed whisper against the late hour.  

“I love you, even at your worst, in yakunaj.” You responded in an equally hushed tone.  

He pulled you closer, angling his body so that he could wrap you into a hug, and you shuttered against him. He was always so warm, and never once complained about how cold your skin was.  

“You are my greatest inspiration, ki'ichpanech. You are my strength and my love. My people are very lucky to have you as their queen. I cannot express the love I have for you in here.” He tapped his chest, resting his head on the top of yours.  

“You are an unbelievable sap, Namor.” You chuckled, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I love you even more for it, though.”

End Note: I really really love how this came out. I hope you enjoyed it! Either way, thank you for reading!

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[enluv]

love spill !

PAIRING! - rockstar!jay (enha) x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: angst-ish but not really + fluff later !!, reader is stressed/exhausted, profanity, slow burn(?)

coco’s ♡ note: this came from a mini game I answered once and literally could not get over because I need rockstar bf jay so badly, I might make more with this jay too so let me know if you like it or have any rockstar!bf jay thoughts because I will indulge and write them !!! literally adore this jay so much ahhhh!!!

Finally.

Finally some piece and quiet away from the shared apartment you live in with the three younger boys.

Perhaps living with your younger brother and his university friends wasn’t the best idea, especially when you had a ten page journalism report due by three pm the next day.

That’s why you find yourself here on a hot summers day sitting in your favorite cafe, it’s not busy on Fridays and is hidden enough so the boys won’t find you for a while, but they will come looking eventually.

The bell of the cafes door rings to signify it being opened but this report is due tomorrow and you can’t stop to look up, but maybe you should have. Maybe you should have because now as you watch the hot brown liquid seep into your laptops keyboard you become painfully aware of the boy in front of you who’d walked in early wearing the most guilt ridden expression. His words muffled as you watch your screen go black.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry. Wait here let me get something to clean this up.” He’s fumbling with the other drinks in his hand as he tries to reach for napkins to clean the spill he’s made.

Where else would you go really? Right now you’re just waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. Had the program even saved the other three pages you’d written? Was your hard work gone just like that? Would your professor even believe you if you told him what happened? Even if it sounded straight out of a movie?

“Just leave it, I’ll clean it myself. Please leave.”

He stills at your words, no malice or emotions within them just exhaustion. The tone of your voice makes his heart ache, and he swears to himself that he’s going to make up for this for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry for this really, I need to leave because I have a schedule to get to but I promise I’ll make this up to you. Can I have your number?”

Your stare makes him feel small, then he realizes how his question sounds after a minute passes between you two.

“Wait I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not asking you out. Not saying I wouldn’t ask you out but I’m not doing that right now! I just need it so I can text you to pay you back, or I can pay to get your laptop fixed. I’ll send you the money or even if you want buy you a new one.”

Jay can’t tell what you’re thinking but somehow he’s walking out of the cafe with your phone number and an assortment of drinks for his members. Dreading having to explain to them just what happened in the cafe.

unknown (2:46pm):

uh hey this is jay, I’m the one who dropped my coffee on your laptop, really sorry about that by the way!! um i want to give you these so I can say sorry again in person because my mom always said to apologize face to face or you don’t mean it and also that way we can figure out the laptop money thing together.

unknown (2:47pm):

four attachments sent

just stop by tomorrow and have some fun and then after I’ll come find you and we can talk!! what’s your name by the way?

you (3:12pm):

it’s y/n. thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“I cannot believe some random dude gave you tickets to see downfall, like this show has been sold out for months and I mean months, talking eight months and he just gave up four tickets to see them? He must be loaded! Tell him you want a new computer and game console, I want the newest version.”

Jungwon’s excited rambles bring a smile to your face, sure just yesterday you’d cried almost all the water out your body until Jungwon had called your professor and explained in detail (along with sticking the phone in your room so he could hear your cries) the situation, but he’d also somehow gotten you an extension on your paper for the next week. He seriously deserved the random concert tickets the stranger, Jay, had sent you.

Receiving them was odd but he’d convinced you with the promise of fixing your laptop and that’s honestly all that mattered, so if you had to sit through a three hour long show next to some stranger who spilled coffee on your laptop then so be it because you’d be getting it fixed no matter what.

Except instead of said random stranger sitting next to you, an actual random stranger stood beside you excitedly yapping with her friends and the random stranger you had expected was perched on stage with a guitar in hand, microphone stationed in front of him like it belonged to him, and soon enough you’d realize from the crowds hollers that it did belong to him.

“ARE YOU READY FOR TONIGHT?” He’s met with screams all around the arena.

“That’s what I like to hear, alright let’s go.”

The shock of who Jay was really didn’t cease even after the show had ended and the four of you began to walk out the packed venue, it doesn’t really go away until a large man comes to escort you backstage.

“Hey buddy I think you have the wrong people, we’re just here still because my sisters waiting for someone.” Jungwon’s voice breaks you out of your shock and the man nods as if he knew what he was going to say.

“Yeah he’s backstage, just follow me.”

Jay fidgets with the bag he has in his hands, earlier he’d dragged the boys along with him to pick you out a new laptop and even threw in a new case and holder for it. He really wanted to get the image of your exhausted eyes out of his mind, he wanted to see you happy and healthy.

“Y/N you didn’t tell us the guy who spilled coffee on you was one of the members of downfall,” the voice he hears is failing to whisper as you get closer.

“Are we about to meet one of the members? What if it’s just like a staff or something like why would an actual member be getting their coffee and oh my god that’s the lead singer Jay.”

He laughs shyly at the boy who’s mouth is now wide open pointing excitedly at him, but he quickly shuts up as he spots you. You look so pretty, completely different from when he’d last saw you drenched in coffee and exhaustion all over your face. Right now you looked content and really really pretty.

“Hey Y/N, I know I said I’d give you the money to fix your laptop but I thought you should just have a completely brand new one, I’m really sorry for spilling my coffee on yours, I’m sure you were busy and needed it, I hope you can use this new one well,” his breath hitches as he holds out the bag to you and your fingers touch briefly, “and I hope you liked the show, I see your friends did.” He sends a wave their way and laughs when they all excitedly wave back.

A smile begins to develop on your cheeks and his heart races. This is exactly how he’d like to see you, happy and smiling.

Later that night as you pull out the new laptop determined to finish your nearly complete paper, a small card flutters out with it that reads —

“I wrote this to say not only sorry again, but to also ask if you’d like to go out with me sometime? and I mean it this time, as in I am actually asking you out unlike last time when I, you know accidentally asked you out unintentionally, this time I promise it’s intentional. Please let me make up the god awful first meeting we had, I promise it’ll be worthwhile. You have my number so if you want to then just shoot me a text but if not then that’s fine with me too! – Jay”

A smile forms on your face as you set down the card and get to working on your essay, the answer to Jay’s proposition already clear in your mind. Yes.

coco’s love note: i am so terribly down bad for jay it’s crazy. he’s so just perfect like I adore him so much!! and I’m the biggest rockstar!jay enthusiast like I just had to write something about it, plus I think it’s so adorable how he’s clumsy in this fic but a crazy rager on stage & only mc gets to see both sides of him fully! I hope you enjoyed this fic! As always, feedback & reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

enhypen taglist?! @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie (bold can’t be tagged!) Wanna be added to the taglist? – Check out THIS post!

[red1culous]

Stupid Moth part 1

Chapter: 1, 2.

“I’m sorry, I’m not being thick but you need to start from the beginning,” Wanda fills up your glass then swiftly tips back her own, downing the remainder of her fruity drink. 

You sigh cradling your glass until the liquid stills before taking a few swigs of the liquid feeling it burn as it travels down my throat. “Again?” you question buying yourself some time. “I’ve repeated myself twice now.”

The look she gives you is one of pity and love. “Babe I’m sorry it’s just that you and Nat have always been together. So this…” she gestures to the space in between the two of you, “…is very hard for me to understand right now.”

“Yea same” you groan. 

Wanda watches tension tighten your forehead. She reaches over to smooth the frown lines appearing there. Her smile is soft as she loops her arm over your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. 

“There’s too much baggage for breaking up” she whispers into the space you are both staring blankly at. “You two dated for what? 3 years?”

You hum. “Four if you include the Jane Austen styled excessively over dramatic pining period.”

“You know,” she laughs and separates from you to look into your eyes. “Some people are meant to be together. Sometimes they get it right on the first try, and sometimes it takes years. You and Nat, you’re that some people.”

Your smile is a sad one. “And some people, when they break up, that’s it” you sigh. “They’re done.”

“It can’t be that bad” she says placing a hand on your knee, her thumb drawing comforting circles on the skin peeking through the hole in your jeans. 

You chuckle softly and duck your head in order to hide the tears that have started to well up despite your attempts to stop them. 

She knows. She always knows. She pulls you into her and you can no longer contain the tears that fall. You cry into her shoulder like you’ve done so many times before. 

“It’s going to be ok” she mumbles into your hair. “You’re going to be ok”.

“I wish I could blame this on Hydra but I can’t. I know that she can love. And it hurts so much more because I know she just can’t love me the way that I love her” you sob. 

Wanda just hums running her hand soothingly up and down your back. 

“Am I that unlovable? Because she made me feel that I was everything and then one day she got bored of me and just left me hanging out to dry” your words are a little hard to understand but Wanda knows enough to make out what you mean. 

“She still loves you” her voice is small as if she is trying to convince herself.

Your sadness morphs into anger as you ball your hands into fists holding Wanda even closer as a means of grounding yourself. “Yea I guess then her love language is leaving me on read for days on end and spending more time with everyone else and treating me like I have the plague or something” you spit out.

Wanda waits as you rant and spew into her shoulder. She holds you tight rocking you slowly side to side. She lets out intermittent little hums of acknowledgment letting you know she’s still listening to your tear drenched monologue. And then it’s over. The catarrh is out. She waits a few more seconds listening to your quite sniffles.

“So,” her voice is a mere whisper. She breaks the silence, “what do you want to do now?”

You sniffle adjusting your head to sit more comfortably in the crook of her neck. “Spend my days watching sad movies, crying, eating tubs of chocolate ice cream and only showering when I can’t stand my own stink,” you wipe your nose with the back of your hand before continuing. “How’s that for a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, sweetie” she says while prying you away from her and wiping your eyes with the pads of her thumbs. She softly kisses your forehead and leans back against the sofa pulling you into her side. 

“You pick the movies and I’ll get the snacks.” 

Two movies in and the both of you are heavily debating something from When Harry Met Sally. You are animatedly waving your arms around as Wanda keeps interrupting you where she thinks your argument is weak. She laughs at your (very obviously flawed) theories and you cringe-gag-laugh at her impression of Sally’s public orgasm scene in the cafe. 

“Listen, all that doesn’t matter right now because, Y/N, I’d totally date you and take care of you” she says not missing a beat. 

Your face turns bright red and you’ve already forgotten what you had wanted to say before she blindsided you with her statement. “…what?” you manage.

“Only for a day” she adds a smile teasing on the corner of her lips.

“Excuse me, what?” now you’re offended. What did she mean a day.

“OK five working days, tops.”

You sputter unable to say anything. Your face feels hot as if the frown, eye-blinking and mouth opening and closing were working overtime. 

Its then you notice the full blown smile plastered on her face. A laugh erupts. A full-bodied-body-shaking laugh. It is surprisingly deep and bubbly like an expensive bottle of wine. You can’t help but chuckle too. 

Apparently something you had said was the funniest thing Wanda had heard all week. She continues to shake for what felt like forever.

Her quaking finally starts to recede and she wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. 

“I’m sorry baby. I promise I wasn’t laughing at you” she manages while trying to catch her breath.

“I swear if you say, ‘I was laughing with you’…”

“You gotta admit it’s sorta funny” she slaps you on the shoulder then takes your hand and laces her fingers through yours.

You pout at her mumble something incoherent which sets her off into another bout of giggles. You wouldn’t admit it, not now at least, but it did feel good to laugh and smile. 

Just then, you let her slip into your mind for a minute. You see her green eyes and red hair and catch a phantom whiff of her perfume. It hurts.

It hurt that you could never love each other in a physical way. But that was like the tides, the change of seasons. Something immutable, an immovable destiny that could never be altered. No matter how cleverly you might want to shelter it, whatever it is you had with Nat wasn't going to last forever. Not when it was so lopsided. You were both bound to reach a dead end. That was painfully clear.

Wanda throws a piece of popcorn at you without taking her eyes off the movie playing on the TV screen. She must have heard your thoughts. You snuggle closer into her and push Nat to the back of your mind. For now. 

For now.

A/N: For @imnotasuperhero I hope you enjoy this. It's not as angsty as I would have liked but I didn't want to keep sitting on it.

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Thirty: The Nina Project

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 2,717 Warnings: fluff, angst, olivia being olivia, mentions of spiders, Smut: no | yes; 18+ MINORS DNI: A/N: Hi, friends! I'm using the gif below again 'cause it's one of my favorite moment of Steve's! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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season masterlist

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We had all decided that we would keep watch on Max overnight just to make sure that what happened at the cemetery didn’t happen again. Dustin was on watch last, so I curled up very uncomfortably with Steve on the chair.

I heard Dustin’s radio go off, but I didn’t think anything of it, temporarily forgetting where I was until it went off again, Eddie’s voice coming through saying Dustin’s name. Not wanting to be the one getting up, I tried to make myself more comfortable on Steve, which I failed to do.

I had just fallen back asleep with Steve’s arm somewhat around my middle when I felt someone run into my feet. I quietly groaned, hearing Steve do the same as I tried to get up. “I’ll be right back,” I whispered, sighing. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”

I had just reached the kitchen when I heard Mrs. Wheeler say, “You know you’re welcome here anytime.” “Totally,” Dustin whispered. “You’re like family.”

“Good morning, Liv,” Mrs. Wheeler said.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wheeler,” I said, spotting the coffee pot. I put my hands on her shoulders, looking her dead in the eyes. “You’re a lifesaver with that fantastic smelling coffee.”

Making my way over to the cabinet with the coffee mugs, I heard Mr. Wheeler say, “No, you can’t have any.”

“Ya’know, Mr. Wheeler,” I said, pouring coffee into one of the two mugs I grabbed. “Maybe you should have something stronger than coffee since you’re always a grouch in the morning. Oh, hey, Mrs. Wheeler, where’s the sugar–thank you.”

I made mine and Steve’s cups, taking his cup down to him in the basement, going right back up the stairs when I saw that the couch was empty, sighing with relief at seeing Max sitting at the kitchen table with Holly, Nancy and Dustin.

“He’s this super burned-up dude with razors for fingers,” Dustin said. “And he kills you in your dreams.”

“Dustin!” I exclaimed, taking a sip of coffee.

“Sorry, it’s a movie, it’s not real,” Dustin said to Holly before looking back at Max and saying, “Just… think about it. What if you somehow unlocked a backdoor into Vecna’s world? Like, maybe the answer we’re looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing. God, we need Will.”

I turned back around to descend the steps to the basement, sitting back on Steve after he took a sip from his cup before taking a few sips from my own cup before Nancy came running down the steps saying, “Put the cups down. Hey! Wake up! We’re taking a little field trip.”

~~~

All of us somehow piled into Nancy’s car, said girl driving over to the Creel house. I groaned after Steve helped me out of the back of the car, looking up at the house.

“What?” he asked.

Gesturing towards the house, I said, “Last place I got busted at for attempting a B&E.”

“Jesus, Liv,” he sighed.

We walked up a set of concrete steps before all of our steps stopped, Steve saying, “Yeah, that’s not creepy.”

“Come on,” I sighed, taking the steps up to the house, stopping once I got to the front porch, leaning against a post.

Steve and Nancy went to the door, my boyfriend taking the split side of the hammer he’d gotten from the car to a nail, taking it out of the wood that was embedded in the post. 

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve asked.

“We’re not sure,” Nancy said.

“Well, that's convenient,” I said, pushing off the post.

“We just know this house is important to Vecna.” “Wait, didn’t you say this Victor guy had kids?”

Nancy turned to me to answer, but Robin beat me to it since I was looking at her. “Yeah, two. Why?”

I scrunched my lips to the side, eyes narrowed as I thought. “Just ballparking it there, but because Nance said the house is important to this asshole, what if it was one of the kids? Ya’know, a kid like El.”

With a confused look on her face, Robin asked, “What?”

“Just a theory, but what if one of the kids, say the son, was like El. She’s kind of a spell caster.” At Robin’s expression, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Like I said… just a theory.” After walking back to the post, I leaned against it again, my eyes downcast.

“And how to stop him before he comes back for Max,” Dustin said, bringing my back to the topic at hand.

“We don’t think he’s in here, do we?” Lucas said.  

“Guess we’ll find out,” Max and I said.

I moved forward, taking the hammer from Nancy’s hand and pulling the last nail, dropping the piece of plywood onto the ground before Steve was even ready for it to drop. I moved my head side to side, cracking my neck with my eyes closed.

Steve tried to open the door, unsuccessfully. “It’s locked. Should I knock, see if anybody’s home?”

I took my jacket off, wrapping it around my left hand, creating a barrier for my hand not to get smashed with glass. “Nope, I got it.” I pulled my fist back before ramming it into the glass on the door, reaching inside with my right hand to open the door.

Walking in, the smallest surge of energy went through me as I lightly bounced on my toes. Was I happy to finally be breaking into this house? Yes. I also knew I had to control myself from trying to steal anything in here.

Fingers sliding between mine had me squeezing them as I was brought to Steve’s chest, my thoughts coming out in his words. “Please don’t steal anything.”

“I won’t,” I lightly chuckled. “Or… at least I’ll try.”

Steve pulled me off to the side, letting everyone else file in. Lucas went to a lamp that was near the door, trying to turn it on. I had to take a deep breath to not run over to take it.

“Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill,” Lucas said.

Dustin raised his flashlight as I reached into his backpack to grab one he always kept for me in there, both of us turning them on at the same. I looked up at Steve, a smile spreading across my face.

“Where’d everyone get those?” he asked.

Looking from Dustin back to Steve, I sighed and closed my eyes as Dustin said, “Do you need to be told everything? You’re not a child.”

“Thank you.”

I grabbed the extra flashlight from the back pocket of Dustin’s backpack, handing it to Steve, who leaned down and whispered, “Thank you,” before pressing his lips to mine.

Dustin took his backpack off and set it down at our feet, breaking our kiss. I released a deep breath, stepping over the pack to follow my brother down the small entryway.

“Hey, guys,” Max said, her voice causing all of us to move near her. “You all see that, right?”

“Yeah,” Dustin, Steve and I said.

“Is this what you saw?” Nancy asked. “In your visions?”

Max nodded her head as Robin stepped forward a little.

“I mean it’s… just a clock,” Robin said. “Right?” She moved forward, wiping the dust off the face of the Grandfather Clock we were all looking at. “Like a normal old clock.”

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve asked. “Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?”

Incredulously, I looked at him, Dustin’s voice meeting mine as we said in unison, “I think you cracked the case, Steve.”

He looked down at me, not happy with my choice of words. I smiled softly at him, wrapping my arm around his back, his own going around my shoulders before pressing a sweet kiss to my hairline.

“All I know is the answers are here,” Nancy said. “Somewhere.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” I sighed.

“Okay, everyone stay in groups of two. Robin, upstairs.”

“One group is going to be a group of three since there’s seven of us.” Robin and Nancy went upstairs, Lucas and Max went into the front room, while Steve, Dustin and myself stayed put for a moment. 

Reaching down to place his fingers between mine, Steve sighed heavily, pulling me around to the staircase, raising our hands to let me go up the flight of stairs first.

“Was that a sigh?” Dustin asked. 

“No, I did not sigh,” Steve answered.

“He totally sighed,” I said.

“Why’d he sigh?” Dustin asked, both him and Steve following me up the stairs.

“I didn’t sigh,” Steve said. “Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“W-we’re just always partners, okay?”

I stopped for a moment, turning to look down at Steve as I asked, “Got a problem with that, Harrington?”

“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit,” he said.

I rolled my eyes and turned back around, finishing my ascent up the stairs. “Are we Henderson’s boring you?”

“No, babe, it’s the opposite.”

Once I reached the landing, I went to the first room I found, walking into it. Shining the flashlight around so that I could see somewhat properly, shuddering as I spotted a spiderweb on the wall across from the door.

“Hey, uh, Henderson’s,” Steve said. 

“Yeah?” Dustin answered.

“Could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

In my best British accent, I said, “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” At the silence I received, I turned around to face Steve and Dustin, the latter smiling big at me. 

His smile died at Steve’s look of confusion before he said, “Sherlock Holmes.” He scoffed and walked away while I shook my head.

“That’s great,” Steve said.

“Remind me why I’m with him again,” I said to Dustin.

“Because you love me?” Steve asked.

Turning to him with a smile, I said, “That I do. That I do.”

I went to follow Dustin into another room when Steve’s voice got my attention as he said, “Babe, come here.” Turning back to him, I saw that he was crouched down, a jar in his hand.

“What the fuck?” I said, leaning down to place my hand on his shoulder, seeing a motherfucking spider in the jar. “Oh, my god, put that shit down.”

Feeling something crawling on my hand, I screamed while shaking my hand, backing up into the hallway with webs all over my back and the back of my hair.

Fun fact about me; I have arachnophobia pretty bad. 

I didn’t register that Steve had followed me after dropping the jar. “Babe, babe, babe, Olivia, calm down! It’s gone!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! There was a fucking black widow on me! I could’ve died!” I had tears falling down my cheeks. “You know how badly I’m scared of those vile eight legged freaks!”

The door I just backed out of closed, Steve coming back into my vision. “Don’t go back in there.”

“I heard screaming, what happened?” Nancy’s voice came through.

“There-there was a spider on me,” I stuttered. “A-a black widow.”

“Oh,” she said, causing panic to rise in me again.

“What? Nancy Wheeler, you better explain what’s happening? Did it lay eggs?” I panicked.

“No, you have webs in your hair,” she said, picking some. 

“If there’s a spider nesting in there–” Robin said.

“There is, Buckley.”

“You’re never gonna find it until it lays eggs and all the babies spill out.”

“What?!” I looked at Steve, straight fear in my eyes. I started crying a little harder than I was, the tears coming out in streams.

“What’s wrong with you?” Steve asked as she chuckled. “She has severe arachnophobia.” Robin walked by us, dancing her fingers up my arm. “Seriously, Robin?” He sighed. “She’s got problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Nancy said.

“It’s cool you two are friends now,” Steve said, standing in front of me, slotting all ten of his fingers between mine. He was staring into my eyes, still talking to Nancy as she picked all the webs out of my hair. “Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him–”

“Rid the world of all the spiders,” I interrupted.

“Save the world and stuff,” he continued. “Maybe we could all go out or something. Ya’know, me, Liv, you, Robin, Jonathan, when he’s back.”

“I can feel you smiling, Wheeler,” I said.

I was lost in a trance that is Steve Harrington as he went on about something, Robin’s voice bringing me back as she said, “Platonic with a capital P.”

“Yep,” Steve said. “Thank you.”

It was quiet for a moment before Nancy said, “Okay. All better.”

“No, comb your fingers through to make sure it’s not crawling in my hair,” I said. “I can literally feel it.”

She chuckled, doing exactly as I asked her for a few seconds before she put her hands on my shoulders. “All good.”

“Thank you, Nancy,” I said, turning to face her a little bit, a smile on my face. When I turned back to face Steve, I smiled at him, squeezing his hands in mine.

He smiled back as Nancy’s footsteps sounded by us before he leaned his head down, eyes starting to close. I leaned up, my own eyes closing before our lips met in a sweet kiss. He cupped my cheeks, my hands going to his elbows. 

Before the kiss got too heated, he pulled back, resting his forehead on mine as I groaned, “You can’t do thaaaaaaaaaaat.”

He chuckled. “Baby, we need to get back to the investigation.” He paused for a moment before he said. “The obvious things are not what people observe.”

I laughed. “What?”

His eyes danced between mine before he whispered, “Sherlock Holmes.”

Lightly chuckling, I said, “That’s not at all how it goes. But I’ll give you an A for effort.”

“Thanks, babe.”

~~~

A little while later, all of us were standing in a semicircle, watching as a chandelier pulsed with electricity.

“Olivia, it’s like the Christmas lights,” Nancy said.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“Christmas lights?” Robin asked.

“When Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… they came to life,” I said.

“Vecna’s here,” Lucas said. “In this house.” The lights pulsed a little brighter and stronger before Lucas added, “Just on the other side.”

We were met with darkness again as the light went out before Robin said, “I think he just left the room.”

“Did he hear us?” Max asked.

“Can he see us?” Steve asked.

“Max, headphones,” I said, Lucas joining me on the last word.

She put her headphones on before Nancy said, “Wait, wait. Everyone, turn off your flashlights and spread out.”

I did as everyone else did; turning off my flashlight and walking away as Steve said, “We’re not gonna be able to see if we turn off our flash… lights.”

Of course, I waited for Steve, his hand never leaving mine as we walked around the house, Robin’s voice coming through the house a little while later saying, “I got him! Got him!”

She had her flashlight shining up… before it dimmed. “I-I had him.”

Steve’s was next, my hand on his arm as he said, “Oh, whoa.” He moved his arm out, following his light. “Oh, I think he’s moving. He’s moving, he’s moving.” We all followed him up the staircase before his light gave out at the landing. “Shit. I lost him.”

I looked to the side, saying, “Nope,” before moving to the door I saw, opening it. “You didn’t, babe.” Another staircase with lights flickering. Not waiting for the others, I started to slowly ascend the steps, Robin’s voice saying it’s an attic.

Seeing a lightbulb flickering in its place in the ceiling had me a little excited. I was excited because we finally knew where this Vecna creep hides. Of course, I didn’t show it. 

“Flashlights,” Dustin said.

We all looked at them, seeing the lights shining bright as we stood in a circle, pointing our flashlights up and around the lightbulb. 

“Okay, what’s happening?” Steve asked.

No one answered him as we stood there for a moment before our bulbs started to burst in our hands.

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

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Posted on May 22, 2024

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Crazy date translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Translation under the cut!

(T/N: Very recommended to follow along the date because hnghh, I have never heard him this happy and alive before 😭. Sadly, I don't have this card, so I can't subtitle it myself. But you can check the date recording here in this link.)

The sea breeze passed through the moonlight, bringing the warmth of winter to the south.

I was leaning in Lucien's arms, watching the gripping movie plot on the projector with great interest.

Keeping the same position will inevitably make my back ache, but I don't want to leave his arms.

Just as I adjusted my posture for the third time without making any noise, a soft pillow was placed under my waist.

MC: ...?

Raising my head in a daze, I met Lucien's smiling eyes.

MC: How can you still catch my little move?

Lucien: If it hadn't been for the fact that you made me feel a little tickled, maybe it won't be so quickly discovered.

I laughed and rubbed against the crook of his arm before looking back at the screen.

A few days ago, Lucien was invited to a New Year's Eve party hosted by his research colleagues. The party isn't formal. It's mainly for relaxation and communication.

So at his suggestion, I was happy to accompany him. We arrived early and rented a small manor to start our vacation time.

During the day, we walked around with the camera, and at night we nestled on the sofa, drinking wine and watching movies.

No work and no worries, just a happy and relaxed us.

??: Mary, I've figured out that even if my life were to stop tomorrow, I would still be on the end of the road

Mary: Then I'll go crazy with you and accompany you until the end.

The main character, who has been sentenced with the "death penalty" is dressed in a hospital gown. But his pale face is radiant as he and Mary dragged the IV and ran toward the hospital gates.

The sunset dragged their long shadows, and they took a long way away with each step. It was only when the gorgeous images jumped out of the black end credits that I realized the film was over.

After exhaling a deep breath, I noticed elderly people with gray hair appearing on the left side of the credits one by one.

??: Love is the most important thing in the world.

??: Life is always crazy. You want it? Just get it!

I was deeply touched by their sincere advice to young people, and I felt as if there was a hot fire burning in my heart.

Perhaps in the long road, I also need to have this impulse to run for the heart's desire more often.

MC: Lucien...

While thinking, I sat up and looked earnestly into those long, narrow eyes.

Lucien: What to do? I seem to have guessed MC is about to stir up troubles.

(T/N: 蠢蠢欲动 is an idiom meaning to begin to stir (idiom) / to get restless / to become threatening)

He raised his chin and narrowed his eyes. His magnetic voice fell on my ears.

Lucien: (whisper) You seem to want to do something you've never done before.

Lucien: Just like the protagonist of this movie, he leaves some out-of-the-ordinary, crazy traces in this world.

MC: ...

He said it almost perfectly and even poetically summed it up for me. I pouted and lightly jabbed him on the arm.

MC: No fun. I just ignited three minutes of enthusiasm, and then 80% of it was doused by a clever man!

He intentionally frowned in distress, took me into his arms, and nuzzled against the tip of my nose.

Lucien: (in that grieving tone) So what should I do? I don't know if I have a chance to atone for it...

Lucien: Let's get your three-minute enthusiasm going again.

His eyes rested between my lips almost imperceptibly. Without waiting for me to react, a soft sensation gently sealed my breath.

He slowly teased and nibbled on my lips as if trying to increase the heat little by little.

Lucien: (whisper very, VERY hoarsely) MC, tell me... what were you trying to do just now?

I subconsciously intended to speak but caught an inch of his smile in my dazed vision.

....He was leading me by nose again.

I drew back to my senses and pulled my neck away, escaping from the air that was getting thinner.

Lucien: Looks like my atonement wasn't enough.

Lucien smiled, and another kiss fell on the corner of my eye. His fingertips restlessly touched and lingered on my waist, making me tremble lightly.

And he had no intention of letting me go. His other hand was covering my eyes as if to block all possibility of me ever coming to my senses.

The string called reason shook and swayed as the kiss slowly moved downward, and I buried my face in his coat.

MC: Lucien, be serious.

MC: If this continues even further, I really won't be able to think anymore!

His chest trembled gently under my cheeks as if it was enduring something unbearable.

Lucien: [chuckle] In fact, you don't need to spend time thinking about it.

I pulled my head out of his embrace. I watched in a daze as he took a sip from a glass of wine on the table and casually swayed my fingers with his other hand.

Lucien: Crazy thoughts are inherently irrational.

Lucien: So when these thoughts come up, it's better to follow your heart than to think about it more deeply.

(thinking of his sp date-)

Looking at his serious look, I raised my cheeks and looked up and down.

MC: It always feels strange to hear such words from Professor Lucien's mouth, who usually speaks sensibly.

Lucien: Is that so?

Lucien: Reason and madness may sound like opposites, but sometimes they can exist at the same time.

MC: But isn't it usually when you lose your mind that you get called "crazy"?

Seeing that I objected, Lucien smiled and raised his hand to rub my nose.

Lucien: MC, we tend to think that reason is about what we shouldn't or should do.

Lucien: But in many cases, "unreasonable" is not the same as "wrong".

Lucien: It's just not predictable.

I couldn't help but think of the movie I just saw, where the main character's life changed in amazing ways when he did things he would never have done before.

My heart felt moved, so I sat up and kissed the person in front of me.

MC: Hey, is it like this?

Lucien was stunned by my sudden movement and slightly bent his eyes.

Lucien: This seems to be only a start.

Lucien: After all, this happens to me every day, doesn't it?

MC: It seems this kind of "crazy" to do whatever I want is not enough to satisfy our Professor Lucien.

I said as I intentionally rested my eyes between his lips. My hands slid down to his chest little by little and slowly pressed close to his body.

Lucien seems to have guessed my mind and letting me go close, but the palm of his hand is covering my waist like declaring the initiative.

Seeing that he would pull me close to his arms, I quickly used my hands to resist against his chest.

MC: I admit defeat. I really can't "fight" you and win!

He raised the corners of his lips in triumph, leaned over, and picked up the glass to hand it to me.

Lucien: Anything else you want to do tonight?

Lucien: For example, finishing the landscape you painted yesterday or taking the scones out of the fridge for a midnight snack?

I pondered and took a sip of wine. The choking warmth slid into my stomach.

MC: ...I haven't thought about it. Why don't we do what you said, think of something, and then do it?

MC: Anyway, it's a holiday, so relax your tense nerves and don't worry about anything.

Lucien: Okay. Then I won't worry about it. The painting can be done at another time.

Lucien: If you don't feel like eating a late-night snack, you can also wait until tomorrow to eat the scones that have missed their optimal taste.

MC: Pfft...

What he said made me burst into laughter. I got up, took my wine, and slowly looked around the room.

When I glanced over the spiral staircase, my eyes lit up, and I happily pointed to the slanted moonlight on the steps.

MC: Lucien, look. I can't believe that just by watching a movie, the clouds have dispersed and the stars have come out.

I looked up at the transparent dome and gazed at the stunning view of the galaxy.

MC: Is it just me, or is the air quality really good these few days. Why does it seem like the stars are getting brighter each day?

As I joked around, Lucien also sat down beside me, holding a wine glass.

Lucien: Then I guess we'll be seeing even more dazzling stars over the next few days.

I laughed and pretended to look at him in a serious way.

MC: Lucien, you can't use the fact that you are a professor to speak nonsense.

Lucien: Can't I make a joke?

I reached out and poked his cheek.

MC: You can, but your face is so deceiving that I can easily take anything you say seriously.

Seeing that Lucien was amused by me and laughed, I nuzzled against his shoulder in a good mood.

MC: Say, if we just sit here and watch the stars all night until sunrise…

MC: Would that be a crazy thing to do?

Lucien: Hmmm... I don't think it's necessary to measure the scale of craziness.

Lucien: As long as that is something you want to do, whether you sit here all night or sit for five minutes and then return to bed….

Lucien: It's all good.

Everything is tranquil and time seems to slow down, making my senses increasingly clear.

I can hear the wind blowing through the curtain at the window and the sound of Lucien's hair rustling in my ears.

I couldn't resist closing my eyes to listen to more subtleties that I hadn't noticed before.

Whoosh-

Suddenly there was a soft crashing sound from afar. It was like the sound of an hourglass ticking away in the night.

MC: Lucien, did you hear that?

I opened my eyes, and my hand pointed out the window to the sound. Lucien slightly held his breath as if he was carefully distinguishing.

Lucien: The place we live is not far from the beach. I think it should be the waves.

MC: …The waves?

The rustling sounds kept coming to my ears, and perhaps because of the influence of alcohol or because of the "grand words" just now –

A thought struck my mind, and I stood up.

MC: Lucien.

Lucien: MC, would you like to see the sea right now?

Looking at each other tacitly, a small warmth flowed through my heart, but when I couldn't refrain from nodding my head-

I saw the clock behind Lucien, pointing to one in the morning.

MC: ...

MC: I'm tempted, but it's almost one o'clock now.

MC: We still have to attend the party tomorrow. It won't be good if it affects your condition…

Lucien: It doesn't matter if I sleep less, but it might make MC a little sleepy.

Lucien: So…You can totally reject me.

Lucien smiled lightly, the moonlight cast a hazy color on him, and his collarbone was also faintly visible under the open skirt.

His usual soft and smooth hair was also a little messy because he was lying on the couch with me all night, giving him a little "unkempt" sense of laziness.*

(T/N: 不修边幅 is an idiom meaning not care about one's appearance/ slovenly in dress and manner)

Even though he said that, there was a dark tidal current that swept me deeply into those dark eyes.

It made me sink into them.

I winked and beamed with a big smile.

MC: No, let's go to see the sea.

MC: I don't care if I will be a bit sleepy tomorrow. I want to see the sea with you now.

The interest in Lucien's eyes grew even stronger, his hand absent-mindedly resting on the back of his neck while the other hand holding the wine glass clinked lightly with mine.

It sounded clear and beautiful.

Lucien: Then, we seem to hit it off.

(T/N: 一拍即合 is an idiom lit. to be together from the first beat (idiom) /to hit it off/to click together / to chime in easily)

At night, it turns out that nothing can be seen on the sea except the ivory moonlight falling on the tide.

At the far end of the horizon, a long, thin line of lights from thousands of homes spreads horizontally, so far away that it seems like another untouchable world.

MC: Lucien, there are only two of us here.

MC: It seems that the idea of going to the beach at one o'clock in the morning is really unreasonable~

Lucien: But by occasionally doing the opposite, the sea belongs to us for a brief time.

Lucien: Even though the sea is not blue at all, there are no seagulls to be seen, and you might even step on a small crab moving in the night.

Seeing Lucien joking around, I'm happily took off my shoes and quickly run to the waves to feel the tide soaking through my ankles.

MC: I can't see the sea, but I'm in the sea right now.

MC: I can still feel the sand slipping past my ankles along with the tide and then quietly slipping away from the soles of my feet.

Lucien: The Great Producer seems to be extraordinarily attentive today.

Lucien: I don't know if it's because of the wine or the movie...

MC: Of course, it's because of you.

I was quick to take over his words, winking playfully. Seeing me like this, Lucien burst out laughing.

Lucien: (laughs) What to do? I feel a bit helpless with this slightly drunk lady.

Hearing his little teasing, I purposely flicked my foot and brought the seawater onto the edge of his shoe.

MC: Then Professor Lucien, don't let me stay alone in the sea~ why don't you take off your shoes too? It's comfortable here,

He didn't answer, and just when I thought he would smile and politely decline, Lucien bent down to take off his shoes and walked beside me.

Lucien: Indeed, It's very comfortable, just a little cooler than I thought.

Although taking off the shoes is not a big deal, I feel that his natural response is a bit unexpected

MC: Lucien, how many drinks did you have tonight?

Lucien: Do you think I'm drunk?

His long, narrow eyes were clear under the moonlight, and they clearly captured me in them. I smiled, shook my head, and continued using my foot to send the cold water over his ankles.

MC: It doesn't matter if you are drunk or not. There is no one else here anyway.

MC: So, it's okay for you to be a little more "let loose".

Lucien: Can teacher MC teach me some examples?

My eyes seemed to linger on him. Then I leaned down to cup a small amount of water and splashed it on him.

MC: Just like this?

He nodded thoughtfully, took two steps forward, and when I thought he was going to counterattack, I was about to turn and run-

Before Lucien tenderly shackled me in his arms.

Lucien: (whisper) Teacher, can I draw another example from what you just taught me?

MC: O-of course.

He gazed deeply at me. His fingertips brushed my eyebrows, my eyes… And finally, he held my face and kissed it.

The waves hit the rocks again, but this time, we were in the middle of the waves, surrounded by dense foam and entwined by the sweet taste of wine between our lips and teeth.

I was immersed in this sweet taste. Lucien only pulled away from me a while later. The cold sea breeze lingered at the tip of my nose and tickled me a little….

MC: Ah-choo-!

I quickly covered my mouth, and a chill ran through my body.

MC: … Although it is in the south, the sea is still a bit cold at night.

Lucien: This seems to be an oversight on my part.

He turned and bent down, grabbed my thighs with both hands, and put me directly on his back.

A moment of weightlessness made me cling tightly to his neck.

MC: Eh? Are we going back? But I'm just a little cold and not tired.

Lucien: This lady seems to have misunderstood me.

He said as he walked forward, moving away from the direction of the manor.

Lucien: Since we came to the beach late at night, we should have some fun before returning.

Lucien: It's just that if you stay in the sea all the time, it's easy to catch a cold.

Lucien: So, by carrying you on my back in the sea, we should be able to achieve almost the same effect.

Our shadows are close and seamless under the moonlight.

I contentedly put my face on Lucien's back and talked to him about one thing after another.

The faint sound of laughter rolled away with the waves until I saw the smoke coming from the distance, and I couldn't help but exclaim in a small voice.

MC: Lucien, it's a roadside stall! It looks like a stall for some kind of warm and hot soup.

Lucien: Want to go over and take a look?

MC: Um!

As we got closer, I faintly saw the stall owner turn off the small lights and put the ingredients into the box one by one…

MC: Shoot, looks like it's about to close!

Before I finished speaking, Lucien tightened his arms, and I felt a gentle jolt. I was stunned when I realized he was running with me on his back!

MC: Lucien...?

Lucien: (panting while shouting happily) MC, I'm curious, so without any hesitation...

Lucien: (still continuing shouting happily) I ain't gonna let you miss it.

(T/N: I DIDN'T THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE FOR HIM TO SOUND THIS HAPPY AND ALIVE-)

A relaxed laugh passed through my ears. Although I can't see his expression at this moment, I can imagine that calm but warm face.

I couldn't help but laugh and approached his ear-

MC: Professor Lucien, we seem to be a bit "crazy" now.

When I woke up the next day, Lucien was already fully dressed, sitting on the sofa and quietly reading a book.

His white shirt was clean, and his smooth hair was well-groomed.

I can't see that this is the same man from last night, who was so energetic that he chased the stall owner with me on his back so I could successfully drink hot soup, and only went to sleep at dawn…

I secretly laughed, then sat up and stretched.

MC: Lucien, what time is it? Why didn't you wake me when you got up?

Lucien: You were so tired from last night, so I wanted to let you rest a little longer.

Lucien: Plus, there's still plenty of time, so you can take it slow.

MC: So… Since it's early, can I ask for a good morning hug?

I grinned at him and opened my arms. Lucien put down his book, sat on the edge of the bed, and softly pecked me on the lips.

MC: Even Professor Lucien can misinterpret a question. I clearly ask for a hug.

Lucien: Then, just think of it as an additional question that I answered.

I stayed in his arms for a while before going to the closet. I took out a purple dress and a set of a white casual suit with trousers.

MC: Which one do you think I should wear today?

His eyes wandered between the two sets of clothes for quite a while.

Lucien: The party is relatively long, so it is reasonable that wearing a comfortable dress would be better.

Lucien: However, a certain lady was so excited about the party that she went back and forth to pick out her clothes several times while packing.

After a moment of pause, his eyes finally fell on the purple dress.

Lucien: So just wear it, and if you get tired by then, we'll come back early.

MC: Hehe, Professor Lucien understands my mind the most~

Lucien smiled and walked to the mirror. His fingertips lightly crossed the table's edge and took out a pair of butterfly earrings from the jewelry box.

Lucien: I also have a suggestion about the jewelry.

Lucien: You used to say it didn't have the right opportunity to shine, but I think today is that opportunity.

I took the earrings with a smile and hugged him around the neck.

MC: Then I would like to ask Professor Lucien to continue to help me with advice. Is that okay?

MC: I'll need you to help me choose the perfume I'm going to use when I go out. I'll go change first!

Without giving him a chance to react, I kissed him on the cheek and walked into the bathroom with my clothes and jewelry.

After changing clothes, I saw Lucien sitting lazily by the window, shaking the balm in his hand.

MC: Have you picked it out so quickly?

Lucien: To be precise, as soon as I smelled this scent, I knew it was the only way to go today.

MC: Oh? It looks like you're pretty confident in your choice~ Let me see which one you've chosen.

I picked up the balm to smell it, and my eyes widened

It has the scent of waves. The elegant fragrance carries a little bit of salty moisture, letting the memories of last night sweep into my mind.

The dark sea, the rolling waves, the moonlight sways in front of my eyes as he runs…

When I thought about it, I couldn't resist leaning into him, pressing closer to the scent in front of me.

(Cue 5th birthday bgm 🥺)

MC: You just said that you picked it right away. Can I take it that you enjoyed our experience at the beach last night?

Lucien: Mmm, I don't deny it.

Lucien: Although the scenery was pitch black last night, I can seem to remember it for a long time.

Looking at the balm in my hand, I suddenly thought of something and smiled.

MC: I've heard that scent can strengthen people's memories…

MC: So just remember with me a little longer.

As I said that, I leaned back a little. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, with one hand.

I stopped when the sunlight cast a white light in front of his collarbone and rubbed my fingers on the balm.

As we looked at each other, my index finger slowly climbed up and down and slid down his chest with a little more force.

Lucien's palm covered my lower back as if in response to me. His fingertips were caressing. The lace tulle skirt made a rustling sound, just like the waves last night.

I couldn't help but press myself against his neck and breathe the scent of the ocean.

MC: Lucien...

Lucien: Hmm?

MC: In fact, looking back now, what we did last night didn't seem crazy.

MC: It's just strolling along the dark beach and then running after the stall that is about to close.

MC: But for some reason, I just enjoyed last night.

Lucien: Is this kind of "crazy" enough for you?

I stared deeply into his eyes without hesitation.

MC: Of course it's enough. Because you are the one who went to the beach with me, you are the one who held me, and you are the one who ran forward with me on your back.

I paused and pressed my forehead against his.

MC: For me, "crazy" is not about doing something out of the ordinary.

MC: My heart will still beat faster when I do ordinary things with you.

MC: Even when our hair is all gray, it'll still do the same.

MC: Isn't that just the craziest thing ever?

Lucien tightened his arms and pressed himself against me, without leaving any gaps.

Lucien: It really doesn't get any crazier than that.

Lucien: Your very existence has caused me to lose control from time to time.

I reached out to nudge the tip of his nose and smiled playfully.

MC: Then you must continue to be unreserved with me so that I can "occupy" you a little more.

He was stunned, and pretended to let out a sigh of chagrin.

Lucien: [sigh] Am I not unreserved enough in front of you? I can't believe that you have this "illusion".

MC: Because like you, I'm also very greedy.

MC: Although I also like the usual you, I want to see more of Professor Lucien from last night.

MC: And you will satisfy me, won't you?

Lucien answered softly. His quiet eyes seemed to set off layers of sea waves.

Suddenly, I thought of something else, curiously lying on top of him, twirling my fingertips around his hair.

MC: Speaking of which, what would you say is the craziest thing you've ever done before our hair turned gray?

Lucien bent his smiling eyes, lightly pursed his lips, and said nothing.

He just moved even closer to me while carrying the scent of the waves and lowered his head to kiss me.

-And once again, my heart bloomed like a flowering sea wave.

[T/N: 'Loving you is the craziest thing I've ever done in our lifetime' :”]

[hawkstincan]

this shit was on my mind for two years. time to write it down and let it go.

at first I was thinking angsty here. like in the actual movie: only two survivors. (except Len didn’t leave Barry in the middle of nowhere and let him tag along. Len thought it’ll be temporary… jokes on him.) they help each other to keep it together, Barry and Lisa become fast friends and all gets as good as it can after a traumatic experience. maybe they even broke Barry’s dad out of prison at some point. it’s not like Barry living a law-abiding life now.  but I hated that Mick and Iris are dead in the end. I do not enjoy angsty things and I didn't like Mick playing Richie’s part. just didn't feel right if it’s close to the movie. 

but we have Eobard! this creeper? perfect in Richie’s place! (and i can see him as Lewis' spawn just fine). here we have Barry and Iris alive, Len letting them both tag alone (mostly because Lisa glanced in Iris’ direction five times in a minute and Len saw her betting eyelashes. why is this his life? wasn’t the vampire's existence bad enough? he sighs glances in Barry’s direction and decides well. it could have been worse. it could have been Mick who got him out of prison and lay dead now).

in the end my brain stuck on the farce-ish version, of course. 

Mick and Len have been friends since forever, they are brothers in all but blood and they raised Lisa together. they never kill innocent people or cops (Mick lost the argument). they steal, they sell the loot and move to their next target. the goal is to get enough money and move to Mexico (Lisa’s already there). Len gets himself in prison after he gets the final score. Mick got him out and they headed to the bar in Mexico. and Len will fucking kill Lisa if the bar will be what he thinks it will be after hearing it’s name. 

Barry was adopted by Joe West after his parents died in a car crash (drunk driver). he was six at the time. the driver didn’t go to prison (the forensic team fucked up) and that’s how Barry knew he’d be the best criminalist in town when he grew up. Iris wasn’t as devoted and during the years wanted to be everything from opera singer to astronaut. Joe was both scared and proud when she wanted to be a cop just like her daddy.  he wasn’t supportive (it's a scary job okay? he hated the mare thought of his little girl chasing criminals for living!) but he wasn’t vocally against it either. 

Joe quits after his wife was killed during a robbery gone wrong. Barry just graduated and was going to start at the precinct soon. Iris is working on her final project at uni and graduating a bit later. (they’re sure their dad lost it or having a midlife crisis on top of grieving ‘course why the hell else he’ll shove them in the motorhome and drive them to fucking Mexico for “vacation”?)  

___

len, smirking: keep it together and will be out of your hair in no time mick, frowning: why can’t we roast a pig?

len: we don’t need more heat on our asses then we already have!

mick: heat’s nice

len: shut up and give me matches you just snatched, i said no to lighting store on fire!

___

clerk: I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING

len: i know, i know

clerk: … then why did he?...

len, shraging: he likes fire. i’ve missed him snatching a lighter too. be grateful he waited until your cop buddy left

clerk, watching the burning building with wide eyes: how is this my life?

len, signing: i ask myself this most of the days

___

len, heading for the door: and don’t let him get his hand on anything with an ability to make fire! 

gloria, the hostage: what.

len: am i stuttering? don’t let him… ah, my bad *goes back and cuts tape on her wrists* ...him light the room on fire! 

gloria, the hostage: …

len, rolling his eyes: Mick won’t hit a women. he may try to use a toaster or hair styler to make a room feel homey and cozy. by making a bonfire. we don’t want this, okay? 

gloria, the hostage nods: and you let me go when again? 

len, smirking: as soon as i find a fitting ride

___

len, staring at the burning motel: i asked you to do one thing, gloria!

gloria, the hostage: well he can be very persuasive and charming…

len: single, yeah?

gloria, the hostage just sighs 

___

len, knocking on the door: terribly sorry to bother you this early in the morning but if it’s not too much trouble could I possibly borrow your’s… 

joe, opening the door and looking straights at the barrel of the gun: fuck

len: sorry, not my type

___

len, gun in hand, but not pointing at anyone at the moment: sounds easy, right? we cross the border in your nice motorhome, spend a night at the bar and go our separate ways in the morning. no one needs to get hurt.

iris, hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking: i can’t believe this is happening to us

barry, barely holding the eyeroll: iris...

iris, starts shaking harder: but Bar, this is so…

barry, covering his face too: i beg you don’t 

joe, barely holding the urge to bang his head against the wall: you’re making it worse 

len and mick glare between them, confused

iris, can’t hold it anymore and starts cackling: of all families in this fucking motel…

barry, starts giggling too

joe, just sighs

len, even more confused: what’s wrong with you people? 

iris, with tears in her eyes from laughing: my dad was a cop, Barry here just graduated criminalist and i’m almost graduated journalist. 

len, with why is this my life look: it’s not that funny

iris, shrugging: i deal with my first hostage situation, fuck off

mick: you know how to pick ‘em snart

len: shut up    

___

len, to everyone: if you see mick with a lighter or matches take them away from him

everyone: ???

len, sighs: he started two fires already and you have one real nice motorhome here...

___

iris stopped three arson attempts from mick before they crossed the border

___

barry recognised who len was and spent three hours trying to get len to tell him how he managed to never leave evidence at his crime scenes

___

joe barely held the urge to bang his head against steering wheel more time than he cares to admit 

___

len, looking at the titty twister: i will fucking kill her

mick, cackling: she got sadistic sense of humor from you

barry, blushes

iris, looks very interested 

joe, adopts why is this my life look 

___

iris, after stacking santanico pandemonium: damn shame 

mick, high fiving with her: yeap  

___

sex machine: ‘name is sex machine

iris and len, in unison: bold of you to presume i’m interested 

joe facepalms

mick: barking all wrong trees 

___

barry, in a quiet shy voice: so, if we survive this shit show would you be interested in a…

len: i’m sure will but your dad won’t approve 

joe, shouting from behind: I WON’T

iris, shouting from joe’s left: I WILL

mick, looking for the lighter while others are distracted: I DON’T CARE, BUT LISE WILL TOO 

___

len: i can’t believe i’m saying this… the stage is yours go at it

mick: fuck year, fire saves the day!

___

all of them looking at the flames rising from what was once the titty twister

len: good riddance

joe: hate to agree

iris and barry just rolling their eyes

mick, with feeling: nice 

___

lisa: i’m five minutes late and you burned the faking meeting point? 

len: hey, trainwreck, nice to see you too, your fault by the way

lisa, rolling her eyes: hey jerk, why?

len: you managed to choose the one with vampires 

lisa, triumphal: ha! i told you so!

len, pinching the bridge of his nose: last time, lise, you were fucking five…

lisa: and i was right

len, resigned: yes you were

___

joe, watching barry flirting with len: how is this my life?

mick, suddenly appearing from behind: popular question

joe, signing: what do you want?

mick, smirking and pointing at iris betting her eye at looking quite interested lisa: guess runs in the family 

joe, covering his face: i’m too old for this shit

mick, looking up and down: nah

joe: what. the. actual. fuck  

[hekaates]

open letter to ems (part ii) — @officialjimmybuffet

Hey bitch. Happy birthday

First time it’s just a letter, second it’s a pattern, how long until it counts as tradition?

Maybe it’s weird but I started to write this letter on December 13th, 2022. 179 days until your birthday but I felt the need to start writing this, felt the need to put my sentiments into words.

Yesterday I sent you 18 audios, several minutes each of course, explaining you in deep detail the plot of the first Avatar movie. I watched it alone after my mom went to sleep and to be frank Im kind of glad she did or else she’ll catch me crying over the scenery of a planet that doesn’t exist, from a movie that I’m pretty sure doesn’t pass the Belchdel test (update: it does not, everything is about Jake Sully and his terrible habits). It’s sitting in the bathroom floor all alone, waiting for people to stop screaming at each other that makes me realize how much I needed you in my life, how much I need, and will need someone who understands and compliments (as in complementary) me as well as you do. I like Avatar because I’m insane, but also because I see someone so lost and so insane in their own world they have to go literally to another planet to find a home, because somehow they do and I think, fuck maybe I could to. Looking back at it, the fact Jakes best friend is a short haired ginger scientist (healthcare science is a science right?) might make it even more close to home. (I hope in the end of this story, I don’t turn blue and you die and come back reincarnated as my daughter, but if you do it’d be hilarious and pretty on brand for us).

Everytime I remember you exist I am no longer alone. One time we were talking about the saints (this phrase in itself explains our relationship better than any other thing I can say here) and we said: I’d pick your saint if you pick mine. I remember the first time I wrote it, I looked at the screen, I looked at me and I looked at you (the only way I can, deep inside my mind) and I realize that with no other person this sentiment would make sense, no other person could I send a message at 22h explaining the in-depth history of Brazilian reality shows and make it so that I’m not insane or annoying or terrible, no other person would I search the deep webs of Wikipedia to find out what Saint was killed on June 10 (ps. It’s Saint Olivia, that’s my sisters name).

Saint Emma is the keeper of pharmacy, Saint Luisa the keeper of grief, somewhere along the lines God made it so we can meet and this would make a little bit too much sense.

I want to thank you for always holding my hand, even if have never touched, even if we never do. Times passed, I forget to write and now your birthday is in 4 days and now it is in 2 days and I find myself plagued by a loneliness only you can fill (I think this is the gayest sentence I’ve ever wrote and that’s saying something). Right now I look at the sun and it’s 4pm here so it means that in the other side of the world it’s 3pm and you are looking at the same sun, as the sunlight burns the right side of my face I can’t help but wonder if right now, in the other side of the hemisphere, it burns the left side of your face, that in the sunlight our faces meet and become one (again, really going for the gayness vibe rn).

The only future I am content with is the one I have you by my side, it’s the one I can call you to spend christmas with my family be it next to a British young star celebrity or not (but like if god wants him to spend several christmases with me then like I can’t say no right that’s on God not me right anyways I’m getting of track-) In the good ending it’s Christmas afternoon and I’m sitting by the pool showing you how to open an earl fruit or a persimmon while my siblings play with the speaker. In the good ending we’re in a club in New Jersey and I have no idea how to order a drink, in the good ending, when the movie is about to be done I grab your hand and say “hey.”

So, yeah.

Hey.

[woodedsilence]

Water

I had a very vivid dream last night where I was wandering around a large home with what I can only describe as “lost souls” floating around. But, they weren’t dead. They were just lost, in their dreams, staring off into oblivion with no proper direction. I wandered around for awhile when one of them caught my eye. Normally this being, if I was watching it in a movie, would scare me and I’d have covered my eyes. But, in my dream I locked eyes and followed them as they slowly flowed backwards towards a staircase. Suddenly she realized I was there, eyes locked on & following. She got scared started to float away faster from me. But, I spoke up and said “Wait wait wait wait wait” in a fast secession then continued “I want to learn the Water path with you” Then I woke up, that was it…. Did I just accidentally come across one of my Sister Witches or were these souls meant to simply guide me down my own path of self acceptance? Do I need to start protecting my dream state better or is this all simply a fluke because I started filling our pool up last night? Well, lets start with the obvious beginning to find the answers to these questions. Water:

Earth, Air, Fire & Water Water exists within us all and without it, like the other elements, we would not survive. We need to quench our thirst just as much as we need warmth, substance, & motivation to continue moving forward in life.

I have alternative postings in which I worked out what I believed to be the proper companion between Season & element. I no longer have access to those postings. But, if my memory is serving my correctly I believed I aligned them together as follow: Earth – Spring  Air – Winter  Water – Summer  Fire – Autumn

But, as I look at these alignments I am not comfortable with them in this order anymore and this may have a lot to do with what I discussed in my last post. When a person comes closer to understanding and accepting themself the world evolves, changes & a crisper view of reality emerges. I believe my last attempt at this was wrought with a selfish need to have things “my way”. In terms of where I lay in life, I was born in Spring, a season my life had taught me to hate. So before I accepted myself for who I truly am, I placed myself in Autumn because it was MY favorite season, the season I felt most comfortable in & I believe I gave Autumn the element of Fire for the warmth it brings. Kind of a self serving slightly materialistic alignment if I am being honest with myself. Of course, this thought process is not conducive to a natural flowing Coven. I believe my Sister Witches will be of their own naturally born season. Spring – Summer – Autumn – Winter Which means this time around as I gather the information, I will be figuring this out for “us” instead of for “me”

So, what & who is Water? Water brings us life when we pour it on the Earth. Water puts out the anger of a raging Fire. Water flows where it’s taken by Wind Earth can not produce life without Water Fire would burn uncontrolled without Water Wind would cease to exist without the cycle of Water.

Water is a constant cycle never ending forever moving. As it begins it’s journey rising above and across the Earth releasing itself and bringing life to the land, it eventually ends up frozen in time on mountains until it trickles down from melting ice into creeks, rivers back into oceans where it rises back up to begin the cycle once again.

Water is malleable, bendable, & can take any shape it is required to take in order to fit in. But, once it’s broken free of it’s constraints will flow where it needs to flow, it goes where it needs to go & it keeps moving or adapting. I’m sitting here, staring, wondering, reading, trying to find an answer to my questions. Astrology is getting me no where, I am an Aries, Mars, Fire, War. But, the more I listen, the more I hear, the more these descriptions form in words before my eyes. I can’t help but believe, some how, some way, it’s me who is Water and that this dream I had last night isn’t a Sister Witch. But, a guide I was meant to find to help me learn the ways of being a Water Witch. But, I’m not a fan of Water, again, life has taught me to loath this element. Except I guess, not really because I absolutely love the rain. I love it more than anything else. A beautiful day to me is not a cloudless sunny day. But, a day that is gray, overcast and filled with so much rain it starts beading up on your window. To sit by the window and watch a storm rage on is better than any TV show or movie I have ever seen. I find comfort in and warmth in rainy days. I am weary to proclaim this a successfully figured out alignment though due to the last attempts and my selfish ways altering things that should be. But, I will place my personal findings on the table. Spring brings new life so it is Water Summer is hot so therefore it is Fire Autumn pulls the life created in Spring back down, so it is Earth Winter freezes all it’s around leaving fresh clean crisp air for us to breathe. Spring = Water

Summer = Fire

Autumn = Earth

Winter = Air

So there it is then, I wish I could say this took me mere minutes to conclude. But, I started this posting at 8 am this morning & it is now 30 minutes to midnight. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “These things have already been decided upon, you just need to look up the basics of Witch Craft 101 and to you I say, this isn’t about Witch Craft 101, it’s about a unique Coven that I truly believe is going to bring four very unique women together to do some very unique things.

Which leads me to my next thought, despite feeling like this is the proper placement. It can’t truly be settled until all four of us are together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I just had a really intense bought of Déjà Vu and I have always felt threatened by that. I’ve never cared for that feeling of “being here before” It’s always so ominous for me. It scares me & makes me feel like I am doing something wrong or have picked the wrong path. I honestly want to delete this post and walk away from everything for awhile. But, you know what, I have also read many more times than I’ve had Déjà Vu that you need to face your fears straight on because you never know what will happen if you forge forward. But, you already know what’s going to happen if you step back. Stagnation. Since I’m personally tired of being stuck. I will choose to move forward. So here’s to hope that nothing bad comes my way. Until next time,

Wooded Silence

[impostoradult]

I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)

I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me: 

- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc  - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles

 All of that bothers me tremendously. 

But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up. 

*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out) 

But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday. 

I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered? 

Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all. 

***

A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).

One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™. 

Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)

Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written. 

But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this. 

And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER. 

I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:

There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV. 

Not ever.  

I can’t think of ONE example  Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna. 

Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.

That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes. 

***

Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing. 

And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct. 

There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.

A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough). 

B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough). 

C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough). 

D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough). 

But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging. 

Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents. 

All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely. 

But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!) 

Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail. 

***

Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place. 

And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.  

Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.

That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.  

But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again. 

All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime. 

So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn. 

***

Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:

1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)

2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder) 

3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings

[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

[widow-maximov]

hi! i love your work and was wondering if you’d write a one shot where reader is thor’s younger sister and it’s her first time visiting earth. she’s clueless and doesn’t know how anything works 😩 wanda and nat get super smitten and eventually fall for the reader 😳 can we also get some protective big sister hela ♥️♥️♥️

Goodbye forever..

Pairing: Natasha x Wanda x Reader

Warning: Language, fluff, little bit of angst :3

Summary: First time visiting a place and being left by your brother, Thor for safety, falling into hands of Natasha and Wanda, will they help you adapt?

Word count: 4.1k

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

"Asgard is in danger at the moment so I had to bring her down here Stark" Thor explained as you stood not far from him as you looked around.

"That's not what I'm saying, she doesn't know anything here and I can't babysit her, I am a busy man if you haven't noticed" Tony raised his concerns.

"I'm not asking you to babysit her, all I need is for to stay here until Asgard is clear from whatever is putting it in danger" Thor had that charm at convincing people to what he wants, which was working on Tony.

"What if she leaves or something? Or accidently hurts someone with her powers, she's still young and doesn't know her full strength" Tony was sitting down as he slowly started to crack, but there were doubts.

Thor looked back at you as you stared at the one of the tools that were laying around "She is young but she has been trained by me and Loki but if you're still worried, Wanda knows how to control her powers so she can train her and just keep an eye out. She is the strongest so she can easily over power her"

There was a moment of silence as Tony thought "Okay, I will brief Wanda about this"

Thor smiled widely as he was quick to give the rather smaller man a hug "I will be back as soon as possible"

Tony nodded with a small smile himself as he asked for Wanda, Thor turned towards you and took couple steps towards you which caught your attention "Y/n"

You looked at him with a smile "Brother"

"You'll be staying here for now until I came back from Asgard" He place his hand on your shoulder.

"I could help you fight in Asgard, you don't need to leave me here" Convincing Thor was a lot more harder than anyone really thought.

"We already spoke about this Y/n and you know my answer to that, I will try to visit but until then I'm ordering you to stay here and you can't leave" Thor stood straight as he slightly tensed when this was mentioned again.

You nodded, it's not like you had a choice and he nodded back "Good" Just in time Wanda walked in as she saw Thor since he was blocking you from her view, he turned with a smile at her sight, to which Tony walked out.

He hugged you "They will take care of you don't worry"

You nodded once again as you let a tear slide down your cheek, this was a big change, you didn't know anyone here and you was slightly afraid but only slightly.

He moved to the side to which now Wanda had a full view on you "Wanda, that's Y/n, you'll be training her. They will brief you now I have to go" Tony explained as he walked out.

Wanda raised her eyebrows at Tony but her gaze shifted to you and Thor to which she took couple steps, Thor rolled his eyes at Tony "Well anyways, this is Y/n as Tony said, she will be staying here for some time before I came back so I just need you to keep an eye out and keep her out of trouble so Tony doesn't try to kill me"

Wanda nodded as she smiled at you "Okay, that's not a problem, If I understood from what Tony said I will be training her?"

He nodded "Yes, she has powers even though she has them under control but just in case, just give her some tips or something"

Wanda wanted to know why you were here but she didn't want to cross any lines, she will find out if you tell her and that's what she will stick to.

"Well I have to go.." He stated as he awkwardly waited for Wanda to stop staring at you.

"Okay, I will show her around then" Wanda looked at Thor with a smile as he nodded, he gave you the last hug and walked off.

You followed Wanda around as she showed you everything, your room, meeting room, party room, training room, anything that she knew of, the last was the living room where most of the team was.

No one knew you were Thor's sister and you didn't know they didn't know so you just went along with it, as soon as you walked into the living room, the TV caught your attention.

Wanda stood near the kitchen as she faced you "Well this is the living room where the team usually relaxes after missions"

"And there is the kitchen to make food, usually I cook since they can barely make toast without burning it" She pointed towards the door that led to the kitchen.

You looked and smiled "Thank you, I think I understand everything now"

She nodded "Well if you have any questions, you can ask me"

This pulled the teams attention toward Wanda, their eyes landed on you and they quickly gathered around the two of you "Who is this?" Steve asked as he crossed his arms.

"This is Y/n, Thor brought her here from Asgard for the time being, so she will be staying with us" Wanda simply explained.

They all nodded and Wanda asked again "So Y/n do you have any questions?"

You nodded with a small smile "Yes, why are there people stuck in a box?"

Natasha frowned in confusion "People stuck in a box?"

You nodded as you pointed towards the TV "There, they seem to be frozen"

Natasha along with everyone looked over to see what you were talking about, Natasha tried her best to keep her chuckle in as she looked back at you "It's a TV, this is already recorded so we are just watching back"

Your lips turned into a perfect O shape as you nodded "Oh that's definitely new"

Sam held his face as he stared at you "You don't have TV's in Asgard?!"

You shook your head "That is not a thing, no. We have advanced technology there"

"Well, besides that I'm Steve" He reached his hand out for you, you looked at Wanda a little clueless to which she giggled slightly and showed you what to do.

You smiled widely at the hand shake, and then moved to Sam and Bucky and Bruce, they all shook your hand but when it came to Natasha, you leaned down and kiss her hand as she introduced herself.

They all stared at you with shock, Natasha didn't pull away which was more of a shock for the team, you turned back as you looked at the team "Is this not normal for people to do?"

They shook their head with awkward smiles "Not really, unless you're are rich and you're looking for a business deal"

You nodded slowly and looked over at Wanda "Don't worry I will teach you everything"

You gave a quick nod as you excused yourself to go back to your room, to which the team went back to watching the movie but Natasha lingered near Wanda.

"What is it Natasha?" Wanda asked as she knew it was her.

"Do you mind me tagging along?" The redhead didn't waste any time.

Wanda looked at her with her brows raised "Really? But why?"

She shrugged "I have nothing else to do"

Wanda tilted her head "Didn't you just tell the team you were overloaded with mission reports?"

"Well they aren't interesting unlike our new female recruitment" Natasha leaned on a door frame as a small smirk made it's way to her lips.

"Yeah okay, it will be easier with another person around" Wanda nodded to agree and started to prepare things to cook.

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

For few weeks, Natasha and Wanda trained and taught you how to be more human, which you really appreciated. It wasn't as bad as you thought this stay would be, you grew fond of the two women quite quickly.

The witch and the former assassin felt the same, well they were more aware of what those feelings were but for you it was a lot more harder to understand why you wanted to spend more time with them than the rest of the group.

The two women started to fall in love with you and each time it was harder to hide. The team had their suspicions to which they were confirmed each time.

There was this one time...

"Okay, we need to somehow get some clothes for Y/n" Tony stated as he tried to think of a loophole.

You was standing in front of him, being quiet and just waiting for them to come up with a solution, your attention shifted to Steve "We can always just go shopping with Y/n"

Bucky raised his brows at Steve "As if you know anything about women's fashion"

Steve frowned "I rather think of myself as an expert"

Sam laughed "Yeah an expert in messing up, she would look like fashion show gone wrong"

Tony even manged to crack a smile at the comment "Sorry Steve but no"

Steve dramatically huffed "You guys are so mean, you need to give me a chance"

A voice spoke up from behind them "Give you a chance for what Steve?"

You turned around at the familiar voice, as you saw Wanda and Natasha walk in, a smile spread across your lips at the sight of them and you waved at them and quickly going back to your serious face after they wave back.

"It seems like Steve wants to buy me clothes" You spoke up for the first time since you was called in her.

"That's a terrible idea" Natasha spoke up this time as she walked past Steve with Wanda and stood next to you.

"Thanks for the support Romanoff" Steve sounded offended at the comment, earning a laugh from Wanda.

"You know what, just leave it up to us Tony, we will take care of this little issue" Wanda proposed the idea to which Tony quickly agreed and went on with his little project.

And so Wanda and Natasha snuck you out and went on a shopping spree to find you better clothes. You looked like you were from the medieval rather than from this century so a new wardrobe was in desperate need.

You ended up buying a lot of clothes and decided to explore a bit before coming back, you had like 10 bags in one hand and it was still light to you, it was pretty impressive and definitely Natasha with Wanda admired the way your muscles would flex.

The amount of dirty jokes Natasha had to swallow down, Wanda didn't even need to look into her mind, she was thinking the same thing.

You stopped abruptly as you looked at the creature before you "Stay behind I will protect both of you"

Natasha nearly bumped into you to which she peeked to see what you were talking about "Protect from what Y/n?"

"That creature" You narrowed at the dog that was walking lazily with it tongue out.

Wanda looked at Natasha with a smile at how cute you were with your knowledge "It's a dog, not a creature Y/n/n"

You looked over at Wanda "A dog? It wont try to attack us?"

She shook her head with a smile, she pulled the woman's attention who was walking the dog "Sorry, do you think my friend can pet your cute dog?"

The woman was quick to agree with a big smile across her lips, Natasha kneeled down and you followed her lead, she placed her hand over yours, you felt goose bumps at the contact and she placed your hand on the dogs head.

"See, it just loves pets" Natasha spoke softly to you as she watched your reaction.

You were sceptic at first but gently petted the little dog, a smile slowly appeared across your lips as you looked over to Natasha, inches away from her face, if heart eyes were real Natasha would definitely have them in that moment.

"It's harmless.." You stated out practically with disbelief.

Wanda smiled as she placed her hand on your shoulder, she felt her heart melt at the scene in front of her "Okay, let's go and grab something to eat"

You looked at the woman in front of you and thanked her politely "She really trained that creature very well"

"Why do you call it a creature?" Wanda asked curiously as she linked her arm with yours and so did Natasha.

"Well in Asgard we have Fenris Wolf, they are a lot bigger but very violent and it did look like Fenris so I was worried it would try to hurt you both"

They were melting, the way you felt like you had to protect them from a Fenris Wolf and put yourself in danger first, it was adorable and there was slight worry in your tone.

"Well" Wanda spoke with a huge smile "Thank you for worrying"

You smiled back and looked between the two women who were on either of your side "You shouldn't thank me, ladies should be treated like treasure"

An innocently precious look settled across the two women's faces at your words, their eyes filled with adoration and love, you were perfect and that's what they loved about you.

Or this time...

You had woke up pretty early, having your mind set to preparing breakfast for the two redheads, you wanted to do something nice for how they both took care of you and always made sure that you felt a little bit less loner here.

You knew how to cook but it was a little difficult to make anything here with earth ingredients, that didn't mean you would give up, you make sure Natasha and Wanda taught you how to use something called internet, you managed to search up videos and taught yourself how to make food.

With a smile at your success, you delivered your food to their beds, Natasha and Wanda shared a room together which made it a lot easier to give them your hard worked breakfast.

You memorized the way they did their coffee and quietly walked inside their bedroom, with food and coffee in hand. You placed it down as you slowly started to wake the women in bed.

Wanda was quicker to wake up, she sat up as she stared at you "What is wrong Y/n/n?"

Natasha slowly stirred as she opened one eye and looked at you and half awake Wanda, she never was a morning person so she groaned at being woken up.

"I have made food for my two favourite ladies" You stated simple with a innocent smile.

Wanda rubbed her eyes and finally was able to take in the smell and the sight of the food, it was waffles with blueberries and whipped cream, it was both of their favourite.

She looked at you again "Thank you Y/n/n"

She looked over at Natasha who had a smile but her eyes were shut "Yeah thank you Y/n I really appreciate food in bed"

"You welcome Lady Natasha"

Wanda giggled at how you called her "You didn't have to do this"

You stood up as you walked over to the food and give Wanda her plate and Natasha as well "Nonsense, I will be forever grateful how yous have treated me, with most care and respect so I shall give back something as well"

Natasha smirked "You should definitely feed me if you want to give back something"

Wanda raised her brows at Natasha's comment to which you proceed at her command "Anything you wish for Lady Natasha"

Natasha chuckled as she waved her hand to dismiss you "I was joking Y/n but I appreciate your dedication"

"You are most certainly welcome" You bowed down in front of them, earning nods and slight giggles.

This was just a pure moment between the three of you, something that the redheads treasured and adored, it was those moments that made them realise how important you had become to their simple lives, you bright them up and surprise them each time which was new compared to the boring days on earth.

If we were to go through all of the times, we would be here for days, but the point has been made to why the team had their suspicions.

Weeks turned into months and you definitely was better and had a better grasp on your powers, you learnt their language properly and slang which made expressing a lot more easier.

The only thing you struggled was your feelings, asking was a lot more complicated since you didn't quite understand what you should even ask, you wanted to just be with them and when you learnt about something called kissing, it never left your mind.

To understand it better you searched everything they had on kissing on the internet, realising it's something you wanted to do, something you wanted to experience with Wanda and Natasha.

So now that you understood that, you were determent to ask about it to Wanda and Natasha, making your way towards the meeting room where they were.

You opened the door and almost immediately they looked up at you "Y/n/n what brings you here"

You felt hot just at them looking at you "Lady Natasha, Lady Wanda" You bowed as you always did.

Natasha noticed your nervous to which she stood up and Wanda followed, she walked over to you with a soft smile "Why are you nervous Y/n?"

You smiled nervously at her "I wanted to talk"

Wanda followed right after with a soft smile just like Natasha's "What do you want to talk about Darling" They slightly trapped you in between them which you didn't mind at all.

You took a deep breath and just as words were about to leave your mouth, a familiar voice to you spoke up but to the redheads it was unknown "There you are Y/n"

You turned to face the voice as Natasha took a step in front of you along with Wanda, her hands ready to fire away with red mist, what took them off guard was your question "Sister Hela?"

They looked back at you with shocked faces, the tall woman stood in the same place but just opened her arms for you, to which you gladly took, you hugged her.

Living on earth for long and having company made you forget that Asgard even existed in the first place "What are you doing here?"

"I will get to that in a second, right now I want to know why these two trapped you?" The protective sister was activated as she death stared the two women in front of her.

You pulled away from Hela as you looked in the direction of the two redheads "They didn't trap me, they are cool don't worry"

"Cool?" Hela questioned as she raised her brows at you "Is this the language they teach on earth?"

She shook her head "I knew your brother did a mistake taking you here"

Natasha crossed her arms "I'm sorry but who are you?"

She looked with no emotions at Natasha "Hela Goddess of death?"

"Doesn't ring a bell" Natasha spat out with a cold glare.

"Thor's sister?" She answered but more in a question tone.

Wanda looked from you to Hela as realisation hit her "If you are Thor's sister... And Y/n is your younger sister.. That means Thor is Y/n's brother"

You nodded simply "Yes, I thought everyone knew"

Wanda facepalmed herself "Of course! That's why you were so clueless of everything on earth and your powers! You are a goddess"

Wanda looked up at you with the most huge smile anyone had witnesses, she was impressed and surprised at her discovery, Natasha spoke up with a smile "Damn she's more badass than we thought"

"Well, this interaction seems nice but I'm here because it's safe to come back to Asgard, Thor sent me to fetch you" Hela cut in before this can go any further.

You looked at Hela "Asgard is safe?"

She nodded with a smile "Yes, you can come back home"

Those smiles that were on the redheads lips, fell almost instantly at Hela's words. They didn't want to lose you, there was an obvious pain in their hearts at this news but they decided to stay strong.

You nodded at her "Is brother Thor here?"

"Yes, I believe he is talking with some people inside, so now let's go so you can say your goodbyes with everyone" She spoke up as she placed her hand on your shoulder.

"Okay sister" You agreed as you looked over at Natasha and Wanda.

"We are right behind you Y/n/n" Wanda spoke up through the pain in her throat, she was going to break and she didn't want you to see.

You nodded and your sister led you towards the rest of the people, you hugged Thor as you commented "Nice haircut, I really like it"

He laughed "Thank you Y/n, the long hair was really hard to fight with"

You nodded and pulled away, so you started off by saying goodbye to everyone, they had grown pretty attached to you and your weird outbursts, they grown to love you as you and your food.

The last two people that were left were Natasha and Wanda, you walked over to them. You wished you had realised what you felt towards them and acted on it before you had to come back.

They both hugged you, each face on your shoulders as you whispered "I wish I could stay more but it isn't my choice"

Natasha had a sad smile as she whispered back "Everyone has a choice детка (baby)"

You pulled away and looked at Wanda who let tears finally slide down her face, you wiped it with your thumb as you looked into her eyes "I will miss yous"

Wanda nodded as she chocked out "We will miss you too, make sure to visit more often"

You nodded and finally returned next to your brother and sister, you couldn't stop your heart practically breaking at the sight of Wanda's eyes looking like a waterfall, whilst Natasha tried to act strong.

It felt like everything was muted until Thor spoke up "Have you gathered everything important Y/n?"

You looked up at him, in this moment you knew what to do "No"

He tilted his head "Well then go bring that important thing to take with us"

"It's impossible" You stated.

"How so?"

You looked over at Hela who had a proud smile across her lips "Are you sure Y/n?"

You nodded as you wiped a tear from your cheek "Okay, what's happening that I don't know off"

"Forgive me brother but I will not go to Asgard because I'm not leaving what's important to me" You spoke up with more confidence.

There was a gasp from practically everyone in the room but you only heard Wanda's "I am staying here because this has became my home when you left"

You looked back at the two redheads "I don't want to leave them because they are important to me and I think I might have feelings for them"

Thor had a smile across his face so when you finally looked back at him, he spoke "Okay Y/n, I'm glad you are able to decide for yourself and what you need"

His gaze shifted to the Russian and the Sokovian "I'm glad you found a home in these two"

You looked back with a smile as you made your way towards them and finally blurred out "I want to kiss yous"

Wanda giggled whole heartedly as your outburst as Natasha giggled with her brows raised perfectly "Are you sure?"

"You said everyone has a choice, so I chose to want to kiss the both of you" You said in one sentence so nervously to which Natasha proudly smiled and pulled you into her face, kissing you and you kissed her back gently, just like you were.

You pulled away and instantly Wanda collided her lips with yours, guiding you and preventing herself from deepening the kiss in front of everyone, she pulls away, leaving you wanting more, just like whenever you would spend your time with them.

"Okay okay, enough" Hela spoke up with slight disgust in her voice, causing the three of you to look over and turn the whole room into giggles.

"But I swear if my little sister ends up heartbroken, I will haunt you two redheads to the rest of your life" There was seriousness in Hela's tone and they both respectfully nodded, acknowledging Hela's words.

This time you were saying goodbye, not to the people you met here but to your previous life and welcoming the new beginning with open arms....

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

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[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

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