#i look like all my chairs were stolen and i've been forced to sit in the floor

[bioshcked]

[leupagus]

I firmly believe Stannis is the Westerosi equivalent of the dad who hates cats, doesn't want to get a cat, makes a big deal about not liking the cat, and ends up being the cat's absolute favorite (except instead of a cat it's a huge fuckoff direwolf with boundary issues)

x

The door to the workroom opened and Ghost bounded inside, snuffling at Stannis's hands. Lady Stark, following behind, narrowed her eyes at him as she closed the door.

"You fed him something recently, didn't you?" she said. Ghost, finding nothing, gave a disapproving huff and flopped down by the fireplace.

He had, but that was besides the point. "What are the Knights of the Vale doing here?"

"Just don't give him chicken, we had a terrible problem with the henhouses when they were puppies," she said absently, and circled round to sit at her chair on the far side of the work table. "I brought them here for you."

Stannis, still standing, paused. "For me?"

"Yes, for you. I can't bend the knee, Your Grace. Not yet. But I'm not entirely useless."

"Of all the adjectives I've thought to describe you with, 'useless' has never been one of them."

She smiled at that and looked down at the papers strewn across the table. "Littlefinger — Lord Baelish," she corrected, "had plans for the North. Marrying my Aunt Lysa and becoming Lord Protector of the Vale wasn't enough for him; he wanted more."

"How much more?" Stannis asked as he took his seat again. He was already well able to guess the answer.

"Everything," she answered, a distant look in her eye that Stannis did not like. "He wanted to marry me off to the Boltons. I think the plan was for you you to come sweeping down from the Wall and either take Winterfell or kill out enough of the Bolton forces to weaken them. At which point Littlefinger could come riding to my rescue with the Knights of the Vale. He'd have a ward at the Vale who looked to him for approval, and a new Lady of Winterfell who'd be grateful to him for saving her from monsters twice over." She nodded at his moue of distaste. "Yes, well, he always did consider me one of his cyvasse pieces, to be moved around the board as needed."

Stannis had avoided Baelish at King's Landing, insofar as he could while both of them served on Robert's Small Council. But he well remembered how Baelish spoke of women, how effortlessly he used them and used them up. What damage had he inflicted on a young, friendless girl while he'd had her in his custody? No wonder Lady Stark had fled from him at the first chance of escape.

If that's what had truly happened. The story from the Riverlands was that Baelish had been killed by his own men, and there was no reason to doubt it — such a treacherous man would have succumbed to treachery sooner or later. But Lady Stark had proven herself capable of surprising things, these past months.

It didn't bear thinking of too closely. He cleared his throat. "The Vale, the North — if Baelish wanted the Iron Throne, he'd have needed more than two kingdoms at his command."

"The Riverlands probably would have been next," said Lady Stark with a frown. She pawed through the papers and pulled out a book. "I've been going through the maester accounts, such as they are, from the time my father left Winterfell until now," she said, flipping through it. "There are gaps, obviously, but Maester Wolkan's been keeping remarkably faithful records. Including copies of every raven scroll." She passed the book over to him, tapping at a particular passage. "This was sent to Roose Bolton from the Twins, only a few days before we began the siege."

"'The Blackfish traitor has stolen Riverrun from us. In the name of fellowship among the new Lord Paramounts and the victors over House Stark, we ask for your aid in catching this damned fish and roasting him on a spit.'" Stannis set the book back on the table with the peculiar urge to wipe his hands clean. "Walder Frey was always a craven. Wanting everyone else to fight his battles for him."

"He didn't even have the courage to murder my brother himself," said Lady Stark, taking back the book and closing it with a snap. "Though I've been told it was his son who murdered my mother. A great warrior family, clearly. Plus he doesn't know it's 'Lords Paramount' and not 'Lord Paramounts.'"

Stannis had seen flares of temper from Lady Stark before (on any number of occasions), but the icy rage in her voice gave him pause. Not for the first time, he considered how very merciful she had been with him, in the end. A man responsible for his own brother's murder, when she herself had lost her brother to the very basest of treachery — what might she have done to him, if he'd been anyone other than the rightful king?

Even as he wondered, he knew that his titles had not been what had stayed her hand in judgement. The Starks had never been particularly pragmatic, mostly to disastrous ends, and for all her intelligence Sansa seemed to have inherited a fair helping of the Tully pig-headedness on top of the Stark romanticism. King Stannis would have had no better luck against her judgement than Lord Stannis or Ser Stannis or even Goodman Stannis; it had been for some other reason she had spared him. He wondered when the bill would come due, and if it would ever be in his capacity to pay it.

Lady Stark had continued on. "I haven't found any record of a message sent back to the Twins, but I doubt the Boltons sent one. Lord Bolton were never much for rousing himself for anyone else's interests, even before he betrayed my family. I sent a raven to House Mallister of Seaguard; he sided with Robb during the war, and the Mallisters have always been loyal to House Tully." This time she handed over a scroll, flattened out but still curling slightly at each end.

It was only a bit longer than Walder Frey's, and about as useful. Blackfish holds fast; they have supplies within to last two years or more, and the siege set by the Freys will not last half a season. Brynden has not called the banners of the Riverlands, for Lord Tully is still hostage to the Freys. But if Lady Stark should call, Mallister will answer.

"'If Lady Stark should call,'" he repeated wryly.

"Lord Mallister bounced my mother on his knee when she was a babe, Your Grace," she said, equally wry. "All the oaths of fealty in the world can't replace the bonds of family and friendship between the northern Houses, even those not in the North itself."

"So I am beginning to understand," he said, handing the scroll back. "So the Twins are undefended at present."

"Most likely — Lord Frey is still there, but the bulk of his army will be at Riverrun." She leaned forward. "I've spoken with Lord Royce; he swears to me that Lord Arryn will bend the knee if you lead the Knights of the Vale and your own army and take the Twins. From there, you'll be able to break the Frey's siege at Riverrun — you'll have both the Vale and the Riverlands in a matter of months."

It was a fine strategy, but Stannis couldn't help but feel vaguely offended by it. "Do you mean to tell me that because you refuse to bend the knee, or promise any of your own army to my cause, you've delivered the Knights of the Vale and a promise of House Arryn's fealty as a...consolation prize?"

Lady Stark shrugged. "I suppose so," she admitted. "But a prize, nonetheless. I've only known Lord Royce since I was a guest at the Eyrie, but he seems an honorable man."

"He's an able commander, which is more to the point," Stannis contradicted absently, frowning down at the desk as he mulled it over. Two thousand men was no very great sum — but the Knights of the Vale were one of the best cavalry forces in the kingdoms, for all that they rarely strayed outside their mountains. With the Knights, Stannis's army could divide and take each half of the Twins in a pincer. It would be over nearly before it began.

"Of course, how foolish of me to consider such petty things as honor," grumbled Lady Stark.

Stannis ignored that. "Which leaves the Iron Islands to deal with. Has Lord Greyjoy sent any word?" Even the honorific stuck in his craw. Balon Greyjoy, the only other "king" to survive the war. Stannis had regretted the man's existence ever since the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Lady Stark shook her head. "Nothing. We've beaten back the last of the Ironborn holdouts, but I doubt they'll begrudge us that. My father always said the iron price never spent well. And they rightly blame the Boltons for whatever might have happened to Theon."

Which was still a mystery, so far as Stannis could tell. Theon Greyjoy had not been found among the dead at Winterfell, nor at the Dreadfort. If he'd escaped, there'd been no sightings reported. "No doubt you'll wish to execute him yourself, if he's found, but it would be better—"

"Execute Theon?" she said, her brow furrowing. "I — no. I don't wish that."

He leaned back in his seat. "You surprise me, my lady. I wouldn't have thought you squeamish after all this time." Perhaps that was his answer: she'd spared himself and Lady Brienne not out of principle but cowardice. In a way, it might be a relief: or at least it would be easier to understand.

She looked away. "Father did always say that whoever passes the sentence should swing the sword."

"That's not an answer. Your kindness does you credit, my lady, but if you show too much your people won't fear you. Which means they won't follow you, when the time comes." He'd said the same thing to her brother, more than a year ago when they'd argued over the fate of the wildlings and the drawbacks of mercy. The Lord Commander hadn't heeded the advice; was it a Stark family failing?

It must be, for Lady Stark sighed in frustration and said, "I don't want to be feared, Your Grace. And though you've failed to notice, I'm in no need of anyone following me anywhere. I'm staying—" She broke off and shook her head. "This always happens," she muttered, an odd smile tugging at her mouth.

He frowned. "What always happens?"

"This," she said, gesturing vaguely at the distance between them. "We can't go five minutes without arguing about something."

"That's not true." She sighed again and he reconsidered. "Perhaps if you didn't contradict everything I said."

"Perhaps if you had sisters, growing up," she countered. "My mother always said Arya and I were more trouble than all five of the boys put together." Her expression darkened and Stannis followed her thoughts — Theon had been one of those five boys. Raised alongside the rest of them, within these very walls.

"I thought you would want him dead," he admitted. "More than anyone else in the North."

She got to her feet and went over to the window, resting her arms on the sill as she looked out onto the courtyard. Stannis rose and joined her: down below were a dozen carts piled high with hay. All around them men and women were busy unloading the bales and stacking them up in a corner, where more workers took them away in a brisk line deeper into the Keep. Each cart was in the courtyard only a few minutes; when it was empty, the driver mounted up again and drove slowly out through the great gates, replaced by another cart yet more heavily laden. Supplies from the Northern Houses, to lay in for the oncoming winter.

"I don't want Theon dead," said Lady Stark after a long while observing in silence. He glanced over to her, but she was still looking down at the carts. "I don't want anyone dead, Stannis — there's been so much death. And more coming, if what Jon told you about the White Walkers is true."

She'd never called him by his name before; indeed she didn't seem aware she'd done it. "I believed him," he replied. "I still do. Your brother didn't seem the sort to make up stories."

"He always was honest to a fault," she said, turning to look at him at last. Her blue eyes were bright — tears, unshed. "I wish he'd come with you."

So did he, he realized. Not for his skill in battle or his perception or bravery: but only so his sister would not look so devastated at his loss. "He took an oath to the Night's Watch," he said, cursing at himself for his clumsy words even as he did so.

"I know that," she huffed. "Five minutes without arguing, is that really so difficult?"

"Evidently," he conceded, and she laughed. A watery sound, and she pressed the heels of her hand to her eyes quickly as she turned back toward the table, but laughter nonetheless.

[hongcherry]

Stolen Kisses || khj

"Balancing work and his personal life wasn't easy, but Hongjoong made do by stealing kisses from you when he could."

💋 Pairing: boyfriend!idol!Hongjoong x Reader (cis f)

💋 Rating/Genres/AUs: NC-17; 100% fluff; Idol au, established relationship

💋 Warnings: They shower together but nothing sexual occurs, reader is referred to as girlfriend/girl, lots of kithes hehe, reader is a foreigner, usage of pet names (baby), a cringy nickname for Hongjoong lol (let me know if there's anything else!)

💋 Word Count: 4.6k

💋 Author's Note: I've had this sitting in my WIPs for months since July but I always got distracted while editing it. However, I finally sat down and looked it over thanks Syd if you see this lol. This is my first of many Hongjoong fics, which I'm excited about! This live got me feeling warm and bubbly, so I hope you all enjoy the fluff with me (:

Key: English | Korean

ateez masterlist | main masterlist

A heavy sigh left your lips as you strolled through the narrow hotel corridor. It had been a long week dealing with picky clients—each wanting things created to the “T” according to their visions. Some just didn’t understand that no, you couldn’t put white text on a pastel pink background as it would be difficult to read with the lack of contrast.

You shook your head, hoping to rid the memory of the clients from your brain. At least for now. You just wanted to snuggle against your boyfriend until the responsibility of both your schedules forced you apart. You had flown out after work one day to visit Hongjoong while he was on tour. While Hongjoong had his own schedule to attend to today, you decided to explore the city.

As you approached the room you shared with Hongjoong, you could hear a faint voice inside. You recalled he had texted you earlier to let you know he had planned to do a livestream with his fans tonight. They were usually scheduled beforehand so you didn’t accidentally interrupt him or any of the other members. That must be what he’s doing now, you thought to yourself.

You kept that in mind as you carefully unlocked the door and pushed it open. You tried not to make a sound, so it wasn’t heard in the stream.

Hongjoong and you were lucky to have your own room, but the fans may get suspicious if they heard the door opening if he were to be alone. Sure, they may think it’s one of the members or staff, but you knew Hongjoong didn’t want to risk it. Understandably so because you felt the same. 

The streams were normally conducted with a staff member in the room so they could monitor the member(s). Despite this, they made an exception tonight and monitored the stream in another room. If anything were to arise, they would contact Hongjoong via text.

It’s no surprise your relationship with the famous idol was a secret. You didn’t want to bring any drama to his career. You both figured if you were still together in the future–hopefully, you would be–then you may consider disclosing your relationship to the public. Though, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Hongjoong quickly glanced up mid-sentence when he heard the soft click of the door opening. From where the entrance was located, you couldn’t see each other. You made sure the door was locked before peeping your head around the corner to show yourself. You gave him a little wave in greeting as you took off your shoes.

When Hongjoong saw you, his lips instantly curled in a small smile. However, the smile was quickly directed to the camera to act like the grin was for his fans—not his girlfriend.

“Yeah, it’s spicy,” Hongjoong said to the phone that was propped up as he sat back against his chair. He set his chopsticks to the side of his empty noodle bowl.

You soundlessly made your way further into the room and set down your purse before making your way to the closet.

“Yeah, definitely spicy,” Hongjoong continued. He quickly licked the corner of his lips to rid any remnants of the spicy noodles he had just consumed. His eyes stole a glance upward to see you starting to remove your clothes.

He’s seen your body multiple times throughout your two-year-long relationship. Seeing you change was normal for him now, yet, he could still feel his body tingle at the sight of your figure. Perhaps it was because he loved your body, but another part of him was just so enamored with the reminder that you were his. That this domestic life with you was something he could really have, even with his hectic schedule.

“I need some water. Just a moment,” Hongjoong quickly told his fans and left the chair.

You were finishing changing into more comfortable clothes when you felt warm hands grab your hips.

You snapped your head up in surprise to see Hongjoong behind you.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered in your ear before pressing a soft kiss against your temple, trying to keep the sound inaudible to the stream. “I’ll be done soon, okay?”

“It’s fine,” you reassured and turned in his grasp. You placed a gentle hand against his cheek as you pecked his lips, wishing you could indulge in his affection longer, but you knew his fans were waiting for him to return.

Reluctantly, he let you go and went to the mini fridge in the room. He retrieved drinks for both of you and handed you one.

“Thanks,” you murmured and grabbed it. After giving you one last kiss, he went back to his chair.

It wasn’t the first time you had been in the same room as him while he did a live stream. Although you had to stay silent during them, you got used to them over time and ended up doing your own activities.

You quietly broke the seal of the water bottle, sat on the bed, and took a sip. Your eyes wandered to your boyfriend in the corner of the room.

His two-toned hair was slicked back to expose his forehead. Some pieces fell into his eyes, but the look just made him more attractive. He donned a plaid button-down shirt that appeared a little too big, but you knew he didn’t mind the oversized fit. Hongjoong has always been handsome, but today he just shone more than usual. You could probably sit there and admire him until the sun rose.

“Ah, I brought soda, but I don’t think I can drink this right now,” Hongjoong said after a while of reading the comments. “One moment.”

Hongjoong took the chance to be near you again.

“Was that an excuse?” you giggled softly and peered up at him when he neared the bed.

He smiled and shook his head, leaning down to give you yet another kiss. He didn’t care if he was being excessive with the kisses. He missed you too much to care. Plus, he would be unable to feel your lips due to his schedule, so he was being greedy while he could.

“No,” he said after the short kiss. “But I might as well steal a few kisses while I can, right?”

As if to be true to his word, he gave you another one.

You laughed quietly and grabbed his hand, shaking it gently to show your own affection. You would have done more, but you didn’t have time.

Hongjoong understood and grabbed a juice from the fridge before going back to his chair. And no, he didn’t forget to give you a kiss, but this time on the top of your head.

You sat for a few more minutes watching him interact with his fans. A small smile formed on your lips involuntarily. You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at how he composed himself.

“I’ll work hard to prepare with confidence,” Hongjoong continued his talk.

Despite wanting to watch him, you tore your gaze from him and pulled out the book you brought with you. Though, it was hard to focus. You stared at the words on the pages, yet you weren’t really reading. Your attention kept drifting off to the man in the corner of the room. His calming voice lured your attention to him.

Hongjoong was the third member you met of ATEEZ.

You were hired to contract for the company three years ago to help with graphics for their promotions. You ran into Yunho and Wooyoung on your first day. Ironically, you had met them down the block from the company building but didn’t recognize them at the time. It was your first time going to the building and being a foreigner, so you had a little trouble with directions. You had enough knowledge of Korean to live by, but some words or phrases still had you puzzled. Nevertheless, you found the building with their help.

Two weeks later and you met Hongjoong during a briefing meeting. You didn’t see him after a while and every meeting was nothing spectacular. What made the difference was that you and Hongjoong often got to the meetings early and made small talk. He didn’t mind which language you decided to speak, as long as you were comfortable. He even encouraged you to speak English since it helped him learn and retain it better. Likewise, it helped when he spoke Korean to you constantly. You were learning from each other, and it was a lot more beneficial than learning from a textbook.

You both tried to keep things professional despite the growing feelings toward one another. For some time you sat at opposite ends of the table to increase the distance—hoping the farther away you were, the more your feelings would disappear. However, it was to no avail. Like two teenagers in love, you both snuck off after meetings to exchange forbidden kisses in abandoned rooms.

You and Hongjoong knew your contract with KQ was coming to an end after the promotions, so you made a deal that you wouldn’t continue whatever you two had any further until your contract ended. Although there wasn’t a dating ban, you still wanted to remain professional. You were always told it wasn’t good to be in a relationship with a coworker—conflict of interests and such.

Once the contract was finished, Hongjoong asked you for a proper date.

It was easy to fall for Kim Hongjoong. He was hardworking, thoughtful, open-minded, and of course beyond attractive. You always felt happier around him and the feeling intensified when he became yours.

“‘Will you go watch the Minions 2’?” Hongjoong read aloud the comment. He gave a small smile. “I’ll try.”

A few more seconds passed as he read the comments.

“Yep! So… ‘Go to sleep!’ Noo!” Hongjoong paused with a chuckle but then relented. “Okay.”

You glanced up from your book at the sound, catching a glimpse of a smile on his lips. Your body was growing tired as the minutes passed, but you forced yourself to stay awake. You wanted to spend some time with Hongjoong before you went to sleep.

“I have to wash my face and body and hair and all that,” he continued and gestured to the parts he was listing.

You smiled hearing him speak in English. Even though he wasn’t able to study lately, he still tried to have conversations with you in English to remember the words he did know. You knew he wanted to work diligently in any way he could.

“I’ll get going now,” Hongjoong began to sign off, a hand waving to the camera. “Have a good day, and have a good night. Bye bye! Bye!”

Hongjoong fiddled with the phone for a second before quickly repeating a bye and turning off the live.

He waited a moment to be sure the live ended then got up and walked toward you.

“Sorry,” he said as he sat next to you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around your body and hauled you into his lap.

“Don’t apologize, Joongie,” you replied and snaked your arms around his shoulders. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck. His body was warm and he still smelled faintly of his cologne. “You need to talk to Atiny. They love seeing you.”

Although you did want more time with him, you knew it was important for him to build that connection with his fans. He wanted to talk to them, too, just felt bad that he couldn’t do both—talk to them and hang out with you. There weren’t enough hours in the day.

“But I love seeing you too,” Hongjoong whined softly and squeezed your body tighter.

You giggled and nodded, showing that you loved seeing him in return.

“You look really handsome today,” you complimented and pulled away to look at him.

He grinned, teeth on display while his eyes stared at you fondly.

“Thank you, baby,” he said and leaned forward. You met him halfway.

You smiled into the kiss, your heart still fluttering after years of constant smooches. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the way he made you feel.

Hongjoong massaged your sides as he deepened the kiss. His tongue found yours and you giggled lightly when you tasted the lingering spice from his noodles. At the sound, he squeezed your sides playfully. Your hands trailed up to his hair; your fingers tangled in his locks. Although they weren’t as soft as usual due to the hairspray, you still liked the way it felt between your fingers.

When you were both out of breath, you pulled away. His eyes were shining under the lights.

Carefully, you leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the makeup remover wipes. You freed one from the package and slowly began to wipe the makeup off Hongjoong’s face.

Hongjoong’s lips twisted up in a small smile at the action. His eyes fluttered closed while he continued to trace random patterns on your sides.

None of you spoke a word, but that didn’t matter. You just wanted to feel him against you. To be in his presence.

After you wiped away his eye makeup, he opened his eyes and slid his hands to your back.

Hongjoong lazily rubbed your lower back as he watched you. He started to hum a random tune while he did so. Your head was tilted as you concentrated on not being too rough on his skin.

“Come join me in the shower,” he spoke as you finished removing the last of the makeup.

You tossed the wipe in the trash and put the package back on the nightstand.

“But I’m too tired for sexy time,” you confessed with a small whine, already feeling your eyes getting heavy.

Hongjoong smiled at you chastely. “We don’t need to have sexy time. I just wanna spend more time with you.”

Your eyes squinted while you hummed in disbelief.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he begged, lower lip sticking out in a childish pout. “Please?”

Your eyes remained on his face for a moment. His eyes were round as he silently pleaded for you to agree. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you caved in.

Hongjoong grinned and patted your butt to indicate to move. You followed his silent order and climbed off his lap.

Hongjoong started to unbutton his shirt, revealing more of his honey skin a button at a time.

“You’re staring,” he teased when he noticed your eyes glued to the way his fingers worked to unfasten the fabric.

“Yes I am,” you boldly replied and flickered your gaze to his.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened slightly, and he ducked his head when he felt his cheeks redden. You supposed he wasn’t expecting that response.

You laughed and raised his chin to see his face. “You’re cute when you’re shy.”

“I’m not cute or shy,” he huffed and finished undoing his shirt. He stood in front of you, blue jeans on and shirt hanging open to show his defined torso. If he weren’t being pouty, you would’ve found him sexy in his fit. You just thought he was more adorable right now.

You placed your hands on his chest, and he shivered at your cool touch.

“Yes you are, and I love you because of it,” you said and pressed your lips against his pouty ones.

During the kiss, you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You helped him pull his arms out, clothed chest pressed against his.

Hongjoong’s hands trailed up your hips to your waist. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and gently peeled it from your body. Because you had dressed comfortably, you had opted out of wearing your bra.

“You’re cold,” he said when he felt your chilled body against his warm one. “Let’s get you under warm water,” he instructed.

Hongjoong quickly removed his pants and took off his watch so he was only in his underwear. He grabbed your hand and led you to the bathroom.

After adjusting the temperature, he pulled off his remaining clothing. You followed suit and wrapped your arms around your body—the cool room causing goosebumps to form quickly.

Hongjoong stepped inside first to ensure the temperature was fine then held out a hand for you. You put your hand in his without hesitation.

A sigh left your lips when the hot water hit your body.

Hongjoong held you close to his figure to help warm you faster. You rested your head against his chest, letting the water fall over both your forms for a while.

“Better?” Hongjoong asked while he rubbed your back.

You nodded.

“Good,” he said and reached for the shampoo. “How was your day?”

You turned around when Hongjoong gestured for you and closed your eyes when you felt him put the liquid on your hair. He began to gently massage your scalp.

“Just some more annoying clients. They wanted a dark… Uh,” you paused when the word in Korean escaped you. You’ve heard it, even used it before, but for some reason, you couldn’t remember at the moment. Hongjoong paused in his movements to give you more of his attention.

“Gradient,” you said, glancing at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he tried to understand you. He didn’t know that word in English.

“When the color fades from one color to another,” you tried to explain. You could see the imaginary cogs turning in his head, trying to guess the word you were attempting to describe.

“Ahh!” he exclaimed when he recalled the word. “Gradient.”

Of course.

“Gradient,” you repeated sheepishly, though Hongjoong didn’t mind that you had forgotten. He gave you a reassuring smile and grabbed the shower hose. He rinsed your hair, careful to ensure no soap got on your face.

You closed your eyes again and continued, “They wanted a dark gradient with similar shade text. I tried to explain that it wouldn't look as nice but they insisted.”

Hongjoong listened carefully as he washed his own hair quickly. You felt bad that he helped you without you asking, so you stopped his movements and replaced his hands with yours.

“Maybe they’ll change their mind when they see it in its final version,” Hongjoong tried to comfort.

“I hope so,” you replied. You helped him rinse his hair then you each put in your own conditioner. “If they don’t, I don’t want to put my name on the work.”

Hongjoong was used to you switching between languages. Although it took him a little longer to understand what you had said, he never complained as it always helped him with his own English.

“It’ll just show how you’re able to adapt to others' requests,” he assured and reached for the soap bar. You let him glide the soap across your body, enjoying the feel of it and his fingertips against you.

Hongjoong hadn’t been a fan of skin ship initially. During the first few kisses you had, his touches were light. You could barely feel him on your clothed waist. Even his kisses were gentle to the point you felt you were simply brushing lips rather than actually kissing. He gradually became accustomed to your touches, but he still limited a few of them because he wasn’t used to such affectionate actions. Although he did receive love from his members—whether voluntarily or not—it felt different when the touches were from you.

Eventually, he was used to feeling your skin against his. Even started craving it so much that it was hard to even go to the bathroom without him clinging onto you like a koala. It was rather cute. Now, he only gets that way if he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Though, you are never upset with it. You like needy Hongjoong.

“That’s nice of you to say,” you replied and grabbed the bar.

“You’re talented, baby,” Hongjoong said.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

Hongjoong let out a small sigh at the feel of the soap rubbing against his skin. His head lolled back, and you took the time to admire his fit figure. His muscles were not as defined as some of his members, but they were still easily visible. Although you didn’t care either way, you had to admit it was a nice plus.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Hongjoong answered softly after a few seconds. He tilted his head downward in time to see you rinsing the bar, a habit of yours, before setting it down.

He stepped under the water and let the soap run off his body.

“I have a lot to thank you for,” you said.

Hongjoong grabbed your hips and swung you around to be under the water. You laughed and wiped the water from your face, but it was useless as more water kept coming.

“Like what?” he whispered and captured your lips with his before you could answer. Water raced down both your faces, but neither of you minded. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he smiled into the kiss at the feel of your body flush against his.

You pulled away and adjusted your bodies so he was more under the water. You reached up to tilt his head back as you rinsed the conditioner from his hair. He closed his eyes and kept his hands on your waist.

“Like how thankful I am to be able to be the only one who gets to kiss you,” you answered belatedly.

“Or how thankful I am to have a boyfriend as amazing as you,” you paused when you noticed Hongjoong’s lips twitching upward. It was as if he was trying hard not to smile. Wanting to see his full grin, you continued.

“Thank you for being so good to me… For making my heart do all sorts of cartwheels.”

“Cartwheels?” he asked and opened his eyes as he moved from the water. He stared down at you confused, not understanding what you meant.

“Cartwheels,” you explained. His mouth opened slightly in a silent “ah” as he understood, nodding slowly. However, his expression quickly turned bashful as he averted his eyes briefly. The words had finally sunk in and he felt his heart thud faster.

“Y-you still don’t need to thank me,” he mumbled and returned the favor of helping you rinse your hair.

“Maybe not,” you said even though you truly believed you did. Hongjoong was such a blessing in your life; you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. “But I want to.”

Hongjoong bit his lip at your words. He could run in circles with you about this all night long. Instead, he shut the water off and went to grab a towel for you.

He enclosed the towel around your body before he quickly dried off his chest and hair with his own towel. He wrapped the material around his waist and secured it. As he did so, you dried off and fixed your towel around your body.

You both did your night-time routine hastily then climbed into bed together.

“I hope you have a better day at work tomorrow,” Hongjoong said once you were both settled under the covers. You were facing each other, legs tangled under the sheets. Hongjoong had a hand placed on your side, rubbing his thumb against your warm skin absentmindedly. He spoke slower than usual as he focused on using the correct words in the correct order; yet, you were patient as always. Switching languages wasn’t easy and you admired that he still tried to use your native language even if he wasn’t totally confident in speaking it.

“Me too,” you replied with a smile.

“So, I have a question,” he said. You hummed to show your curiosity.

“Will you go watch the Minions 2 with me?”

You giggled. “Of course, my Minioong.”

Hongjoong sighed at the nickname, acting as if he disliked the pet name you had given him when you first learned about his love for Minions. Though, deep down you knew he liked it. Even if it was cringy and sounded a little funky, it came from you.

“I’m not going to share my popcorn with you now,” he huffed. Playfully, you stuck out a tongue at him. This earned a teasing poke from your boyfriend to which you whined in response.

“My silly girl,” Hongjoong said fondly and moved his hand back to your waist.

The softness of the mattress and the comforting feel of his hand on your bare skin had your eyes drooping. You blinked rapidly when you caught yourself dozing off.

Hongjoong chuckled softly at you trying to fight off the sleep. He pulled your body against him so your head was tucked in his chest. He rubbed your back and closed his eyes, basking in the feel of you engulfed in his embrace.

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said and pressed a soothing kiss against your head.

“Are we still going to breakfast?” you wondered quietly, still not wanting to rest just yet.

Hongjoong hummed in affirmation. “You still okay with the members joining us?”

“As long as I get to sit next to you, yes,” you teased as you recalled the time Wooyoung rushed to occupy the only seat by Hongjoong. It forced you to sit away from him, which isn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. However, your time with your boyfriend in person was limited, and you just wanted to cling to him until you couldn’t anymore.

“I’ll make sure of it. You’re not leaving my side tomorrow,” he replied with a smile.

“Only tomorrow?” you asked softly and peered up at him.

Hongjoong caught your gaze, carefully raising your face more so he could plant a chaste kiss on your lips. “Forever, baby.”

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” you confessed glumly. Your trip to see Hongjoong was ending soon. Once their concert ended tomorrow, he was taking you straight to the airport so you could catch your flight. Despite being sad you weren’t able to spend your last few hours with him directly, you were still happy to see him on stage—doing what he loved for the people he loved. He was meant to be a performer, and you loved seeing his passion shine brightly under the stage lights.

“I don’t want you to either,” he sighed, tugging you against his body and resting his head against yours. “’m going to miss you too much.”

There was silence as your mind ran, sprinting from one sad thought to another. You wanted to stay with Hongjoong longer.

“Don’t be sad, pretty girl,” Hongjoong mumbled. “It’ll be okay.”

“I love you, Joongie,” you replied softly, eyes closing as you let Hongjoong hold you. He squeezed you tenderly before lifting one of your hands to plant a lazy kiss.

“I love you more,” he answered.

Knowing Hongjoong was too tired to argue with you, as he usually did when you said this, you answered, “I love you more.”

“Just this once,” he said with an airy chuckle. “Now, go to sleep, baby.”

“’kay,” you mumbled softly and closed your eyes, a triumphant smile on your face. You felt him adjust a little before settling down. He kept you close as you drifted off to sleep. Instead of dreading tomorrow, you focused on being with Hongjoong now. 

It was difficult to be in a relationship with an idol. You knew it would be from the moment you fell for one, but actually living through it pained you more than you realized. However, feeling Hongjoong’s warm body flushed against yours—hearing his heart beat steadily as sleep slowly consumed him—made you remember why you risked it all. Why you overcame the lonely nights, the three-in-the-morning facetimes, and the virtual dates. 

He was worth it all.

A/N: For my "shy/silent" readers, I've created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY. Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[hotchafterhours]

Hershey’s kisses

A/N: Hiii, this is Cat aka dudeitiskarev. So I've had this thought for a while about doing the nasty with Hotch while he’s fully dressed in one of those suits (you know, season 10 suits), and for whatever reason, I didn’t feel like posting it on my main, so here it is. Season 10 Hotch can split me in half thank you very much. Word count: 2.2k. Warning: just an office quickie (that I still managed to make soft).

(Keep in mind I prefer to write in first person’s POV and don’t mention any name, gender nor (y/n), but I guess it can still be a reader insert, with female anatomy.)

________________________

Ever since Aaron started wearing clothes that fit him better, all I fantasize about was fucking him while he’s in one of those suits.

More so when I was the reason he started to go one size smaller.

Honestly, it wasn’t my intention, but I may have implied how his old shirts were too baggy for him by buying him a new one just because I felt like it.

It’s not that his old suits didn’t look good on him, but buying him a size down was the best mistake.

“I think it’s too tight.” He’d said when he first tried it on for me.

It wasn’t. It fit him perfectly, hugging his torso and arms enough to make him look bigger.

I suppose that the fact that I couldn’t control myself that day and gave him the blowjob of his life may have influenced him to buy one suit at a time until he got rid of his entire old wardrobe.

I’ve seen him naked multiple times and I swear each time he’s wearing nothing but his skin, every Hershey’s kisses out there melts because of how hot and beautiful he is. But there is something about those tight suits that simply makes me want to jump his bones wherever we were.

It’d never occurred to me doing it while he was fully dressed before. Every time we’d get home all we did was undress each other right away, and sadly, we haven’t had many chances to do it in his office.

In fact, only once was successful and the few times we wanted to, were either interrupted by someone knocking on his door while I was on my knees ready to put my hair in a ponytail, or getting a phone call right when he was bending me over his desk.

Today, though, was a lazy paperwork day. And since I saw him this morning get dressed in one of his now classic tight navy-blue suits, my mind had only been wandering with images of him staining his pants.

Which was ridiculous because he was literally a couple of feet away from me and could easily make it happen.

And, although he’s my boyfriend, he’s my boss first, so I texted him before trying anything else.

“Are you busy?”

I pressed send and stared at him from my desk that had the perfect view of his office. Our infinite stolen glances are what always keep me motivated on days like these.

He smiled as my phone vibrated against my palm.

“No. But you should be.”

He knew damn well I was staring, but he decided to rub his forehead and hide his face from me.

“Can I visit you?”

“Depends.”

He quickly replied and I was as quick to be inside his office without even knocking.

“Depends on what?” I asked as I locked the door behind me.

He grabbed his pen from end to end with his fingers, leaning back on his chair, “On how much paperwork you’ve gotten done.”

“Oh, you know me.” I walked up to him behind the desk. “I’m very efficient.”

He hummed in a smile, reaching for my hand, and said, “You are.”

He then pulled me closer by my waist until I was sitting on his lap, giving me a gentle kiss on my cheek. “It’s almost noon, wanna go get some lunch?”

I pecked him on the lips once. “I do, but not yet.”

Slowly, I made our second kiss more intense, grabbing him tenderly by the jaw and parting my mouth open to let his tongue slide in, brushing onto mine. His fast, large hands were already groping my bare thighs.

Thank you, past self, for forgetting to dry my dress pants and forcing me to wear a skirt.

It took seconds and a couple of quiet moans from me to start feeling him grow under me. He was always so responsive. So I started to rub my ass onto him, signaling him what I wanted. What I needed.

A low groan got caught in his throat before he panted against my mouth, “the blinds are open.”

I licked the taste of him from my lips with a smile and pressed my forehead with his. “Stay here.”

I stood from him to peek between the blinds and make sure no one was looking before closing them. But even if someone saw me, I didn’t care. I needed him.

I was about to go back to him when his body curved against mine, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Can’t you follow a simple order?” I tilted my head to the side, earning a kiss on my neck.

“I’m still your boss, or have you forgotten?” His soothing voice deep in my ear traveled directly between my legs.

He flipped me around and firmly squeezed my ass on his way to capture my mouth. It was one of those open-mouth kisses that somehow he still managed to make gentle and fierce at the same time, brushing his tongue across my lips.

“Desk?” He asked between the kiss, swiftly lifting me by my thighs.

“Couch,” I quickly responded.

Desk meant bending me over. Couch meant riding him, and that came with the perfect sight of him gloriously underneath me, and god, I really needed to see his gorgeous face while he came.

He followed my commands and as soon as we fell on the couch, I started to grind on him; my lips never leaving his.

I lifted my skirt up to my waist to have complete control over my movements, rolling my hips back and forth over him with his help

He was so damn hard already.

I didn’t hesitate to pull my blouse over my head for my own comfort, revealing to him coincidentally his favorite bra.

“I should’ve known,” he hissed between his teeth, teasingly running his fingers up my spine as his whole attention was on the lacy piece. “Your mastermind had it all planned.”

“Ah, ah,” I warned him when he was about to unclasp it and leaned back, bringing his hands to my hips.

He’d always get into it with my nipples, taking his time. I swear he’d made me come before just by playing with them. But, as much as I love the feeling, right now was not the time.

I kept moving on top of him with his help, bringing me up and down with his large hands cupping my ass while he kissed and licked my chest.

It was getting hot too soon and the moment he started to take his jacket off I had to stop him.

“Keep it on, we’ll be quick.”

“What if I want it slow?” he teased me, adjusting his jacket back on anyway.

The only thing that’d make this moment last longer was me, between his legs and taking his cock into my mouth. And by the way he licked his lips I knew that’s what he wanted.

I raised a brow back in response.

Before he even knew it I was on my knees undoing his belt. Then again, he was about to pull down his pants but I stopped him. “Let me.”

He leaned down to kiss me as I palmed the outline of his erection and stroked him over his pants a few times. I didn’t bother to pull his boxers down, I just stretched the band enough to take his cock out.

I wasn’t sure yet if this feeling of seeing him fully erect for me was ever gonna change. I hope not. I had to squeeze my legs together for some friction that would please the ache.

My body was begging to take him inside me. But the contrast of his soft and veined bare skin against his dark clothing was better than what I had imagined and was all I wanted to see.

I built his anticipation by groping his thighs and licking him long from the base to his dripping tip, making his cock jolt as an instant reaction.

His hands flew to gather my hair in a gentle fist just to put it out of the way, although I loved it when he guided me and shoved my head down.

This time he didn’t and let me handle it.

I flicked my tongue on the underside of the head a few times before I started to take him into my mouth, keeping eye contact the entire time. His lips were slightly parted open, letting his little groans out in short breaths.

It’d always fascinated me how breathy he’d get whenever I sucked him off. His chest was rising up and down harshly already, making his shirt tighter with every breath he took. I swear he could make the buttons burst out anytime.

I could tell he was getting impatient, tilting his hips up with each teasing lick I gave, so I started to take more of him slowly, making sure he’d feel every inch of his cock getting warm between my lips.

The moment he reached my throat, I hummed, forcing myself down as I bobbed my head with small strokes, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat over and over.

Aaron praised me under his breath and started to guide me, knotting my hair and gently pushing me down. “That’s it, that’s my girl.”

The tears were already making my vision blurred but I kept going. Until I had to come back up for air.

I took a loud inhale through my nose, swallowing thickly while I pumped his wet cock up and down as he wiped my lips with his thumb.

The more I stared up at him enjoying this, the more I wanted to make him shoot his cum all over. But I needed him inside me so bad. There was nothing but lust in that frown.

I quickly adjusted on top of him with my legs on each side of him and put my panties aside, rubbing my clit a few times before guiding his cock to my entrance.

As soon as I started to sink on it, he dropped his head back to the wall and closed his eyes, licking his lips.

“Fuck, darling.”

I kept rubbing my clit with one hand and pulled myself close to him by his tie with the other, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “Do I feel good?”

He barely let out a breathy “yeah” and grabbed me by my neck, capturing my lips roughly with teeth and tongue. I held onto the back of the couch and started to bounce on him, moaning against his mouth.

Soon enough, he started to lift his hips off the couch to slam into me, making his belt clink at the rhythm of his thrusts. And when his harsh breathings turned into low groans, I knew he was about to come.

I bounced my hips exactly five times and he was shaking in release under me, digging his fingers so hard on my hips as his eyes were fixed on where our bodies met, admiring the way his cock slipped in and out of me.

“Shit,” he let out in a shaky voice and dropped his head back again.

I could only stay still and stare at him while he emptied himself inside of me. I rubbed his torso up and down as he came back from his high. His shirt was burning and as smooth as ever against my palm, just how it felt when I was done ironing them.

By the time he fluttered his eyes open, he sat up straight and hugged me tightly by my waist. “That was incredible.” Then gave me a tender kiss on the lips. “I’ll make it up to you when we get home.”

I hummed and kissed him back. I didn’t care much to be honest, but I knew he’d make it up to me and couldn’t wait to have his head between my legs tonight until I screamed his name.

I raised myself on my knees until his cock sprung free off me, letting his cum drip directly to his pants in one thick drop.

Now that was all planned.

“Oh,” I said in a soft voice with a slight smirk, biting my lip. “Sorry about that.”

“Go bag,” was all he said, carefree, reaching for the tissue box on his coffee table.

I knew he kept a backup go-back of his actual go-bag, so it wasn’t that mean of me ruining his pants. As I cleaned myself he gently tapped my arm and handed me a pair of clean panties.

“So this is where these were,” I said, receiving them. I didn’t know he kept clothes for me in that bag too. “Did you also steal my black blouse?”

“You have too many,” he playfully complained.

I let out a long sigh and stood on my tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek.

I couldn't love him more.

After we put our decency back together, we walked out of his office as if nothing had happened and made it to the elevator, on our way to have the lunch he had offered me.

As soon as the doors closed, Aaron swung one arm over my shoulders and murmured in my ear, “I loved fucking you in that skirt, by the way.”

Maybe I should get rid of some of my old clothes too…

_______________________

Let us know here if you’d like to see more of these!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader || Oneshot, [Part 2]

Title: The Fake Love Of My Life [PART 2]

Notes:

I'm just realising Harper and Y/N's relationship is very like Dimitri and Anastasia haha XD

Plot: Fake fiancés, impending murder victims who are actually quite lovely, dancing, jealousy, and engagement rings- oh my!

Warnings: Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh? Jealousy?

"Wait... you two? Are together???"

The words coming out of an 'honoured guest's mouth, aimed at Harper and I as he comes on into the bar, pressing a kiss to my temple on his way past. The guests, especially the one that rode in with that blonde Harper made off with earlier, do not miss it despite its subtlety - given more for the towns folk around us then anything else, obviously, - . And suddenly the fact that Harper just went off flirting with another woman, hits us both in the face.

Well... fuck- and the rest of the town catches it, too; Freaking out also, on the inside. I glance up unsurely at Harper who is still standing close to my seat, but force a tinkering smile that just makes me look perplexed, and that doesn't meet my eyes.

Which, you know, works. Because if we were a real couple, and I didn't, in fact, know perfectly well that he had to seduce these girls then I would look like this; Oblivious. And that's exactly what the guests think is happening.

Trying not to show my nervousness at the situation, a shield that I've mastered at this point, I decide to play the clueless-type. Thoughtlessly blinking and smiling, I tilt my head at the guy. "Yeah," I hold up the back my left hand, and show off the engagement ring (Which so happens to be Harper's actual mothers ring, so I take very good care of it even if it doesn't totally feel like mine, nor will it ever- seeing at the engagement in the first place is a total hoax) and beam. "We're engaged, actually!"

"Uhhh... " The guy's eyes flicker nervously from me, to Harper where his glance becomes hard. You can tell that he's struggling not to tell me out right what my 'fiancé' has been up to, and is gouging what kind of reaction Harper might give if he does do that right now. Still looking blissfully oblivious, I look between the two with wide, confused eyes. "Dude."

Knitting my brows together, I play my part well. A hand on Harpers arm and a teetering tone to my voice completes the act. "Harper?"

"Ah. Y/N!... " He picks up my hand off his arm, and holds it in his own, playing his own part with a side of guilt sitting beside a big serving of regretful douchebag. He doesn't meet my eyes completely, just flickers over them, leaning his shoulder slightly between me and the guy. "Its nothin', don't worry about it. Okay?"

"Hey, its not nothing!" The guy actually shoves Harper out of his way, and my own blow open wide at it as Harper flashes a dark glare his way, silently. "Girl- " I blink up at this man, who's pointing directly at me after that show of violence and I hand him all my attention. Because oh- wow- direct! Okay, yes? I mean I know he's going to be dead in a couple of hours and he's the enemy but wow. He points behind him with a thumb, at Harper. "This guy's been cheating on you. I saw him go off with my girl friend, Jess- and I know her. The way she was lookin' at him... oof," He shakes his head. "They fucked, or something, man. I'm sorry."

Miss Peaches and Boone flash eachother a smirky, secret glance at that while most people are looking at me for a response or glaring at Harper like some of the guests are, Buckman's watching this whole scene like a show at the theatre and he's on the edge of his seat, Hucklebilly is silently urging me with his eyes to do something already. Like hurry. Hurry up. Hurry! Hurry!!

Dragging my gaze away from Huck's, I make myself slowly look from the guy that 'told me'... to Harper. Before a new expression can take hold on my face, I ask, in a deadly tone; "... what?"

Harper immediately comes forward again, looking desperate and pissed off- though its not me, he's angry at. "I don't know what he's talking about, Y/N, I swear- "

I get up from my seat and he steps - stumbles? - back at the terrible glare on my face. As terrible as I can muster, when I want to laugh at his reactions. You know? Sometimes this pretending thing can be a lot of fun. Taking a deep breath, I take off the ring he gave me, and under the gaze of the man that told me Harper was 'cheating'- I hand it back to him. Then I clear my throat, as he looks from it... to me. And does 'heartbroken' so well. "... Um- whether you did, or not. I- I cant wear this... u-until, I know. You know? Um... sorry."

Then I manage to slip past him and out the bar door, into the empty square before a smile fights onto my face and giggles topple out of me. I collapse against the side of the building, letting the laughter come out as I cover my face. Oh god... the looks on Harper's face! Oh, he was good.

He must have run out after me a moment later - after the appropriate amount of staring heartbrokenly at my empty seat, I'm sure, - because then he's poking around the corner, finding me, and enfolding his hands into his pockets as he saddles lazily up to me.

But he does not fool me- he's pretty damn amused too, I see, as when I glance around my fingers; Theirs a grin on his handsome face.

Sighing, I calm down and press my head back into the wood. "That was good! You did well!- Coulda cried, though. I mean, you were being left by me, after all."

Rolling his eyes, making me giggle again, Harper sets his jaw. "You sure think a lotta yourself, don't ya?" His slow drawl is back to normal, no longer desperate like he was acting before. Perfectly, annoyingly shirty. He leans in towards me, giving me a raised eyebrow-look. "I didn't see you cryin', neither, Y/N. Not even one, stray, tear."

"Hm. Not even I am that good an actress, Harper."

He smirks back at me, and for a moment , before returning to his straight standing position, and sighing. He looks back at the building, his mouth twisted into a displeased, put-out frown. "Well, I guess we're fightin', now... Should we be yellin'?"

Scrunching up my nose, suddenly tasting something gross in my mouth, I scowl at him. "Do we want to be the kinda couple that screams and yells?"

"Well, it is just an act."

"Yeah, but still."

"Hmmm... " Harper, looking dissatisfied with my objections, looks away again and thinks. "Okay. How about we just say we fought, then? You can jog in place for a minute and look like you just ran a marathon or something when we get back in."

Gaze flickering up to him, my eyes narrow. "Oh I am only running, if you let me squeeze your cheeks to make it look like you got red-faced."

He does not look like he likes that idea, at all. "... Okay. What if I didn't find you, then? 'N instead I walked around looking for you for a while. You can go back in now and I'll wait out here for a while before comin' back in."

"Yeah, lets do that." I push off the wall and ready myself to go back in their, looking all down, when Harper pulls something out of his pocket and tries to give it back to me. As soon as I realise that its the ring though, I shake my head good naturedly and push his hand back. "You hold onto it, until this is all over. I don't want it falling out of my pocket." It was his mothers, so its important, and if anything in this relationship is real its our shared devotion to keeping that ring safe. I would die if I lost it.

Harper stalls for a moment, displeased by my response if I didn't know better, before shoving it and his fist back into the pocket of his trousers. "Alright then... Until this is all over."

"Right." I assure him, awkwardly. Before patting his shoulder and passing him by. "See you back in there!"

"Yep."

~

Its nearly 45 minutes before Harper comes back into the bar, a sullen look on his face still, like normal. I look away almost immediately, pointedly- returning to the conversation I'm having with Miss Peaches. "... As I was saying, yeah we are having nice weather toda- "

The guy from earlier - the one that had informed me of Harper's 'infidelity'. I think his name was Matt? - suddenly pushes out of his seat a few tables over, seeing Harper come in also and saddles right beside my chair. I cut off again, and look up to him. Hello? Mister?

Not looking at me, rather glowering Harper's way, Matt offers his hand to me. Shoving it right in front of my face. I blink, surprised at its presence and the gesture. "Miss? Would you like to dance?"

"Uh- " What? I look from him, with wide, surprised eyes to Miss Peaches who just looks pretty darn amused at it - in other words, entirely unhelpful, - , as I feel quite put on the spot and unsure. What is he doing?? The whole room seems to still once again, noticing the scene that Matt is creating, and I glance Harper's way.

His sullen look has just begun to look hazardous to anyone standing near to him and I fight not wince under its power, myself.

Matt breaks his gaze from its locked position with Harper's, and looks down to me; His gaze softens, a bit, and I understand that he's only trying to make me feel better. And if this whole thing wasn't fraudulent in the first place I would probably be grateful. So letting out a careful breath, letting go of my nerves and surprise at being put in a position like this, I place my hand in his and let him guide me up to my feet.

Oh god- now I just really want everyone to stop looking, at us. At me. Stop, stop, stop-

A booming clap sounds throughout the room, and just like that everyone's attention is stolen clean away by our enigmatic mayor, who's stood up and grinning. "What a good idea! Go on everyone, lets have ourselves a good old-fashioned hoedown. Grab a partner and get to the dance floor!"

As everyone immediately starts liking that idea and getting up from their seats, and music starts play from the little wooden stage in the corner, I let myself relax. Thank god. Bless that man. Long live the mayor.

"Hey, so, are you okay?" I'm broken from my relieved thoughts, as Matt walks me to the middle of the dance floor and guides me in front of him- setting one hand on my waist while the other holds my hand. His words are sweet and low, so no one else really hears, and damn- I'm going to sure be mournful when he dies. Even if he is a yank.

Offering him a small, strong smile as we begin to dance to the reasonably paced guitar music, I set the hand of mine that isn't holding his securely up onto his shoulder. He's just wearing a sleeveless under shirt, so I feel a bit of the skin of his shoulder which is odd but I've long since given up holding new-comers to any of the same expectations we have. "I'm holding up, thank you. I just never thought he would do something like that... its so not Harper... "

Speaking of Harper, I glance around the room slowly to see where he is now, and catch his glare from the side of the room with Miss Peaches. Evidently she's asking him if he wants to dance with her while I'm busy, but he seems unresponsive. Too busy playing jealous.

I quickly look away. Matt shrugs. "Yeah well, you can never really tell with douchebags. Sometimes they're real nice guys, until they aren't."

"Yeah... I guess so... "

"Anyway," Matt suddenly lets go of my waist, carries my hand up to above our heads, and spins me. A cant help the delighted giggle that tumbles out of me at the move, my skirts flying around me before he pulls me back to his body. He flashes me a grin back, and as the music's tempo speeds up, so do we- the dance becoming faster, and more fun. "Lets see if I can distract you from that bullshit for a little while."

Smirking back to him, I feel like forgetting about who I'm supposed to be, now - engaged and heartbroken, - in order to just have some fun. Because damn, it has been a long time. Yes at parties I dance with men - Lester, Hucklebilly, Buckman. Even Granny, though she isn't a man, - but that's not really the same. That's like dancing with my brothers, or my father - or mother, - . Theirs nothing quite like dancing with a man you don't know, not because you want him to court you or because he wants to court you, but just for fun.

"Lets see if you can."

~

A couple of hours later I finally sit back down again, a beam on my face and my cheeks warm - aching for a glass of water or twelve, - as Matt excuses himself to go to the bathroom- but promises that he'll be back. "Take your time, I'll be here!"

He smiles, patting my shoulder comfortingly, before turning and heading off out of the building.

Its a few moments later, after I've acquired a drink of water and am sipping at it at the bar, that Harper slips into the seat next to me. I turn and- immediately, catch myself. I was about to smile, and ask him how his night is going.

But I remembered just in time that I am supposed to be mad at him, and take a deep breath; Looking away again.

Without saying a thing to me, he orders himself a shot of whiskey- a heavily grumpy look on his face. I glance at him, wondering what's going on in his head and if he's had any fun at all tonight or if he's been preoccupied acting like a jealous bastard the whole time. I worry that its turned his actual mood sour.

I hope not.

"So... " He finally speaks, still not looking at me. "You been havin' a good time, with that yank?"

"Um... " Glancing around us, I see a group of the yankee girls nearby within hearing distance, and look nervously at Harper. Because for whatever reason, I get the inkling that he isn't acting anymore, and I don't want him thinking that anything that comes out of my mouth, is true. "That's... not, really, any of your business- is it?"

Finally he looks at me, and theirs a pissed off gleam in his brown eyes as he looks down on me. "Oh yes it is. You're my fiancé, ain't ya?"

My jaw nearly damn well drops. Has he been drinking before now?? I didn't see him dancing at all throughout the night. What's wrong with him? Theirs definitely something odd about what he's saying; How he's looking.

Not even Harper is this good of an actor.

"Harper... " Lowering my voice and leaning closer, I tug gently at the side of his clean white shirt. "Are you alright? Do you want to leave and talk?- "

"What's happenin' here, huh?" Oh for fucks sake- I turn to see Matt suddenly back, on my other side and standing over both Harper and I- but turning his stony, protective, angry look on my 'fiancé', obviously. I mean, I appreciate the efforts but you really have the worst timing, Mathew-

Harper doesn't back down even an inch from the more imposing figure that is my dancing partner for the evening. In fact he just pulls up his whiskey to his lips, letting his hand dangle lazily before him as he raises his brows at Matt. "I'm talkin' to my lady, a'course. What are you doin'?"

"Oh, your lady?" Matt scoffs, and I feel like red lights should be flashing and alarms should be blaring. Their tones are dangerous. "First of all, this is the twenty first century man so she has a name. Second of all- did you mean Y/N or the girl two seats down from you?"

Oh, hell. My eyes widen as that particular dig leaves Matts lips and, knowing Harper's already prickly personality, turn slowly to him. A flickering of a tiny - dangerous, - smile flashes across his lips as he nods and looks away, before taking the whole contents of his glass in one go. Then he turns to me - to me! - , an only marginally softer look in his eyes. "Y/N, lets go."

"Uh- " I cut myself off, unsure of how to respond. He continues to look at me, waiting impatiently for my response, and Matt looks swiftly down at me before picking up for, me.

"Y/N's not going anywhere with you if she doesn't want to, man. So back off."

"My apologies, was I talking to you?" Harper turns his gaze up to Matt again, and my eyes tear around the room for some help, but for the first time today no one, is stopping to witness the drama.

Hell, violence could be ensuing, and no one here cares?? Seriously?! How drunk is everyone?!

"No, but someone has to be good to Y/N."

Harper doesn't flinch but you can tell that he wanted to, as one of his eyes slowly squints, and the frown lines in his face deepen. "... do you wanna take this outside?"

Immediately I whip around to face him fully. A hand slamming down on the table between us and I am deeply concerned. "Harper do you even see the size of this man!?"

"Love to, but I don't feel the need to remedy all my problems with violence, mate." Matt smirks, crossing his arms. And first of all, thank god, but also- the look on Harper's face at hearing that is horrifying. How could this man have made things worse, by not punching Harper in the face?! Now I kind of wish they had gone outside.

"Okay!" Before Harper can respond, or take out the sharp throwing object I know he has in his pocket, I get up out of my seat and back off from them both. "You both need to stop this, before it becomes a dick measuring contest. First of all, Matt, I had a really lovely night so thank you, but I'm leaving now, so goodbye. Harper- " The moment I turn to him, I stall, and calm down. And I mean it, when I say; "I'll talk to you, later."

Then I turn around and head for the door so that I can walk out into the night and go home- when I suddenly hear a horrible hitting noise and a crash, followed by gasps and Buckman yelling 'HELL'- and whip right back around. My eyes blow open wide the moment that I see Matt, fallen into a chair behind him holding his jaw, and Harper shaking out his fist, still managing to look tough even as his fist must be killing him, looking down on Matt. I gape, about to say something - or yell something, - but Harper suddenly turns to me, and grabs my hand on his way storming through the horrified crowd and out of the building. I just try to keep up so he doesn't tear my arm off.

Once we're down the road a bit, I manage to rip my arm back away from him, and get glare in response. I tough it out, though, and scowl back at him. "Harper what the hell?? I mean I know we're kind of invested in our scheme but you're acting weird, now. And- you- you hit him! Why would you do that??? What is wrong with you??"

"'It's what my 'character', woulda done," He almost growls, through grit teeth.

"You really don't have to go that far, Harp!" He really, really, doesn't!

Rolling his eyes up into his skull, I watch as he finally takes in a deep breath- hands on his hips, bracing himself. After a moment of silence, and I'm thinking he's calming down now thankfully, his gaze flashes to me and I see clearly that he's still burning.

Reaching over to me, he once again takes my hand in his and drags me off. Not quite so angrily this time, so I don't fear that my arm will be removed from my shoulder at all at least, but I'm still totally lost. Where are we going, now??

We don't go far, as it turns out, and he quickly presses me against a wall between two houses close by to where we were, and in the darkness I can just make out a clearer look entering his eyes, finally. Like his sight is finally, - finally, finally! - not so clouded by fury anymore, as he breathes in fresh night time air. Silently, I watch, waiting for him to speak first.

Is he okay??

Taking his hands off of me, he runs a hand back through his hair, and finally lets his shoulders relax. "... Okay. Okay. I'm fine, now. Sorry for makin' you uncomfortable."

"Are... are you sure you're alright? Do you want to talk about what just happened??" Because I definitely think we should-

"My character just got away from me, that's all. I got too into it... I apologise." Yeah, he says that, but he still isn't looking me in the eye. Everywhere but my eye, actually. And an idea occurs to me that makes my heart start to beat louder, in my ears. Carefully, I reach up, and lay one hand on his shoulder while the other curls up into his hair.

I literally feel his body relax more, under my touch. A sigh escapes him, that I'm sure he would've preferred me not hear. So he looks stony, again.

Letting go of my bottom lip, as I had nervously been chewing it, my gaze flickers up to his face. "Um, would it help, if... my character, were to, 'forgive', you?" Still against his better judgement I'm sure, Harper perks up, at my suggestion. I set him with a focused, serious look. "Because she does. She knows that you have to touch other girls and its not because you want to, and in fact it has nothing to do with her. Me."

"... yeah?"

I nod. "Yes." Giving him a smile, I start to take my hand away from him and step away. "So don't fret! We're okay. Still engaged, and in 'love'- "

Suddenly, before I can get away completely, Harper grabs my hand again and tugs me back- and further, to his lips, where he presses a passionate kiss. A moan is torn out of me immediately and my eyes quickly fall shut, reciprocating before I can think better of it.

This happens a lot, now; The kissing. It helps us get into character, I suppose. Makes us feel like two people who are actually in love, rather then Y/N and Harper who just pretend to be. And it feels really, really good.

He pulls back not even an inches worth of space for a moment, solely for air, and my eyes crack open a tiny bit; Enough to see him gulping down air so he can come back. "Harper... "

He presses right back quickly, guiding me forward back into the wall behind me. Wood digs into my spine but I cant bring myself to care, too wrapped up in the body of the man kissing the hell out of me and my endeavour to taste him back, and maybe gouge a moan or two from him. Because I want to hear it. I don't know why, but I need to. I feel like all I ever see from him is spite and crankiness and I need to know he has more, for me. Especially, for me.

Tugging gently on some of his hair seems to win me what I wanted, as I swallow the vibrations of his groans. Then I slowly pull back, my heels finding the ground again and opening my eyes delicately, and look up at him as he sighs; Understanding that its over as he still leans over me.

Tilting my head, breathing slowly in order to return to former breathing patterns, I catch his gaze. "... Feeling better?" My voice is low, talking carefully as I look up at him from beneath my eyelids.

"... almost."

"Hm?" What else can I do? I'm just wondering what else it could possibly be that he, or his character, wants from me when to my surprise Harper slips down to one knee before me. My eyes widen slightly, looking down at him and wondering what he is doing. "Harp? Your knee hurt?"

He takes my hand in his and, not looking me in the eye as my heart starts to beat unbelievably louder- the sound reverberating hot in my ears. "I just figured, that, our engagement is missin' something."

Oh... Harper takes his mothers ring back out of his pocket, and slips it back onto my fourth finger; Where it now lives. "Y/N L/N, we've known eachother a long time now, basically our whole lives... unfortunately, I think I've only just cracked the surface of what their is to know when it comes to you... and I'd sure like to spend the rest of my life trying to learn the rest."

"Aw... Now, I kinda regret that we didn't do this in front of people. You did that really, well. And telling me my last name! Nice touch." I tell him, because its true, but adding a little joke because I have to as I slip my hand out of his grasp and examine the ring back in its place. My ring.

It really is pretty.

"I ain't done." My eyes snap back to Harper's and my cheeks heat up even more then they had been already, and close my mouth quick.

"Oh."

Flashing a little smile that looks so good on him, he tilts his head. I nearly forget that this is fake. "Will you marry me?"

Breath hitching, because that is the softest, least disapproving-of-me thing he has ever said and it makes my stomach drop- In a good way. But I hope that he does not see how mushy he's made me- because that might complicate things.

He might think I'm falling for him... And I'm not...

I try to keep it out of my voice as I respond, even as a gentle smile warms onto my face. "Yes, Harper Alexander... I will marry you. Now get back up here."

He smirks and gets up, and I lean up to press a quality kiss to his lips, in thank you. When I pull back, he picks up my left hand in his and I catch a serious and forlorn look cross his face as he looks at the ring. His voice is quiet but firm when he speaks. "... I don't want you ever taking this ring off, again. I didn't care for that, at all."

"Well it was just for show... "

His jaw clenches. "I know."

"Hey- " I grab his arm, pulling him gently but abruptly from whatever angry place he was disappearing back into, and flash him a comforting grin. "How about we don't go back to the bar. We can just go back to my house, and avoid the headache. Alright?"

"I'd like that." He grins, a lovely grin that we very rarely see on on him anymore unless he's faking it, a hand hovering over the small of my back as we turn and start heading off to my house.

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 8 | " AFIRE LOVE "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 3.8k

warning: very mild swearing; brief arguments

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @gyeraniee @fluffi @stxrryemxlys @jungwon-luv-bot @lost-lepord-beanie @hyunsunge

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

a/n: this has been the longest chapter in the series so far and i'm loving it. grateful for taylor swift's songs that helped me through this chapter also,, please listen to exile as it ideally expresses the ruination between jungwon and y/n (and also an addition to the burning feels,, ㅋㅋ)

~

Daniel paid a visit to the Royal Garden to fetch his brother, Jungwon, a few Catalpa flowers that were freshly scattered on the royal lawn. In hopes that his brother could still mend the book’s soul by giving a home to the fallen blossoms, Daniel obliged to help when he saw Jungwon’s crestfallen state the moment he got home from Kielder Forest the other day.

The tall, plump gent hums a tune, oblivious enough to the presence of the pair that were roaming around the garden prior to his arrival. He peeks through the side as he noted the familiar voice, gently tiptoeing through the crisp, dried leaves and twigs sprawled along the ground. He soon realizes it was the marquess and the young miss, sharing careful whispers that made him eager enough to eavesdrop.

He could hear everything but dare not open his eyes. Daniel knew he must keep still while he waited for the perfect opportunity to run back to their manor, bearing the newfound knowledge he grasped.

If it was Sunoo, he wouldn't have second thoughts. Though Daniel's ordeal prevented him the first time, he soon remembered how menacing Sunghoon was and grew concerned for the young miss’ innocence, all the while hiding among the shrubs for a determined snoop.

“So long as Jungwon keeps his emotions repressed, this ruse shall continue on.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in horror upon hearing the young miss’ affirmation to Sunghoon’s statement.

Without wasting any more of his time, he cautiously bore the silence until he reached the Park’s manor to apprise Niki of such mischief.

“Niki! Niki! Niki”

“What?!”

“Y/n’s made a deal with the devil himself.”

START OF YANG JUNGWON's POV

I sat and observed you reading with your head bowed. The world was quiet and peaceful that night, and your small hand was wrapped around my finger. Your touch brought forth an omnipresent coolness, sending electric tingles throughout my body. My longing for you fitted perfectly in the palm of your freezing hand. We quietly sat there, your head on my shoulder, in a perpetual moment of tender affection; beautiful and serene. The silence was wonderful, and it was utterly a whole different level of ecstasy.

We were ten, and you were starting to doze off.

I was awake and I watched you breathing with your eyes closed and parted lips. You held my Austen book closer to your chest where it can feel your thumping heartbeat. Your newly untied braids were all over your face. Wavy locks everywhere. I gently stroke them away from your cheeks that were of rosy hue due to the chilly night’s air. And because you were dreaming, your little eyelids fluttered. I noticed that. So I tucked you inside our self-made fort, and positioned us in front of your favorite night light— the moon. I sat and observed you, taking note of everything you did and did not do.

Do you recall how we were sitting by the lake that morning? It was the first time I draped my arm around your shoulders. The golden sun reflected on your tinted cheeks just perfectly, gradually seeing them come to a blush. I don’t know if it was a color of a burn from the summer heat, or just simply out of shyness from the flirtatious gesture and dialogues we had shared over time.

That was something I'll never forget. And because it's all I've ever known, I prepared myself for the anticipated goodbye. You caught me off guard, "I'll never depart from you," you said.

We were ten, and I was foolish enough to take those brief moments for granted.

Three years flew by right before our very eyes and the parting of ways came upon us. You begged me not to leave because If I do, you’d curse me for the rest of our lives. But what am I to do? It was university, it was my future… our future, if not dubiously relevant. I may have only been thirteen at the time, but I was certain of you.

But I didn’t listen. I never did.

I left.

And it was then that I realized, my future wasn’t there. It was sitting among the grassy lawn, reading poesies and verses to each other under the incandescent glow of the sunny daze. It was sharing silly whispers and passing secret notes of flatteries, tucking Catalpa flowers behind your ears, or making a beautiful crown out of it for the beautiful princess that’s been hopelessly sitting right under my nose this whole time.

I said, “I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.” But you did ask me. And I was never ready, so I watched you go. Selfish as I was then, I knew you’d come back to me.

So there I was, sitting in my new room in the dormitory in a big city. I remember I couldn’t sleep the first night. All I did was toss and turn; sheets were shuffling on and on for hours. Like a typical little boy who was taken away from his family. Homesickness as they call it. But I guess mine was sickness for an undeclared love left hanging like our sheer fort on the hopeless branch of the Catalpa tree.

It was colder than I thought it would be. I kept recalling myself leaving. You gave me a yearning look, your gaze bore into my eyes, I swore I heard my heart break into little shards. But the deafening echoes couldn’t be compared to the shattering of yours, and all I ever gave you was goodbye.

I bet you were still up sitting on your chair by the window overlooking the majestic moon, wondering about me. So I tried the hardest to tuck myself in and face the window where your favorite night light was. I kept whispering empty wishes. I wished that I could run back to you.

Many days I thought of writing you letters. It took everything in me not to, as a string was tugging me back, telling me that the little notes I tucked in between the pages of the Austen book that I lent you could suffice for my five-year-long absence. The said string being the educational pressures that were gradually sucking the memories I had left of us.

I hope you know that every time that I didn’t, I almost did.

You embodied many, different ways of every emotion that crept through me. Though I knew it was going to hurt me, I went ahead and did it anyway.

Five years flew by so fast. Or maybe just for me. I finally graduated from university together with your brothers and mine. So much has happened while I was there that I almost didn’t notice the changes in me. There were several fooleries that the boys and I went through just to have a taste of the uncivilized life we weren't raised to have. There was this time I even helped your brother, Niki, with a gruesome fight against some kid who was foretold to be the next duke of our country. Those may be silly times to ponder now, but the damage it did to us and mostly to Niki was inexpressible.

I was eighteen, and the last memories I had of us were from we were ten. Maybe I tried to forget that day badly. That day where I stood and watched you hide behind the trees from afar, keeping those tears to yourself without me anywhere near you to wipe them all away like I always do.

I vowed to not hold myself back and not be held by the agonizing memories of a thousand yesterdays. I never realized how much it still pains you even upon my return.

Both our families held a welcoming back dinner at your place. There we were, after five long years of separation and silence, traipsing down the halls that we once ran through, forcing laughter and faking smiles just so we won’t ruin the genuine delights in our dear mothers’ eyes.

I was only eighteen, I didn’t know much but I knew I missed you. I’d tell you but I don’t know how. I do, however, know where it all went wrong. I just couldn't find the courage in me to approach and ask you for an apology.

Where was I? Where was the boy who’d throw a mantle over your braided locks, pretending to be the wizard to your witch?

Do you still remember? The notes I shamelessly tucked between the Austen book I lent you just to get my silly feelings across? Do you still have these little memories of us collected inside your imaginary heart-shaped locket?

I left many notes there, and though you possibly forgot most of them, they still hung around me, and I could vividly recall them like it was yesterday. From the flirtatious dialogues and striking remarks to the underlined phrases I wholly dedicated to you, the following parchments started to become like an entire page of paper with my inconsistent handwriting.

I vented out my daily adventures and mundane activities into those stained parchments that I stole from my late father’s study. Until suddenly, all the letters were about you. It collected all my immature yet genuine emotions. It was always about you, seldom me, and hardly ever us.

For the many years that I’ve hurt you, left you hanging, and witnessed our promises get constantly broken, I could only hope for better days waiting ahead for us. If not to me, at least to you. You deserve more than I could even offer. You always have, and I'm afraid I may not be a potential candidate to meet you halfway.

A year has passed and we’re now about to be offered for marriage. Not to each other though. There we were, standing in a crowded room under the bedazzling chandeliers and along with the tunes from the people eliciting them.

I felt my hands trembling in fear that eventful night. We exchanged brief and stolen glances and I was desperate to know, was the yearning killing you too?

I saw you nervously pulling your dress in an attempt to look busy, while I was doing my best to avoid you. I’ve never heard silence quite this loud.

Jay gave me the chance to redeem myself. You had no idea how much I desired to secure you in a long and firm embrace the moment you walked closer to me in that library. But you said those words. Yes! Those words were made up of aching memories that lingered around my soul for a while, but I dared not to give any of my attention to.

My deepest apologies for leaving you behind, again.

I dropped your hand while dancing and left you standing there in an awfully eerie room in such a woeful state. I let you slip beyond my reach, and I fear I can't give you any reasons in the aftermath. I was nowhere to be found then, and I hate the crowds, you know that. But I wanted to return to you after I'd composed myself in the powder room, though it utterly shattered me the moment I ran back to the hall.

I saw you dance with him. With the boy who was now a man. The man who was chosen by Niki’s old flame. The old flame that caused the gruesome fight between the two boys several years back. And the man who’s now trying to take you away from my reach; the unreachable string I couldn’t ever pull passionately close to me.

I heard my heart smash to smithereens. I was hopelessly wishing in the back of my mind that you wished it was me. You wished it was me you’re holding firmly in those little, flimsy fingers, lovingly waltzing you to your wildest dreams.

While I just stood there, under the dimly lit corner of the court, dreadfully gazing upon the sight that gave the entire ton heart-shaped eyes and promising prophecies.

My dearest, Y/n. For dearest you will always be. I want you to know that I’d wilfully live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time.

Because I held my pride like I should've held you.

END OF YANG JUNGWON's POV

The hot topic immediately spread among the Yang and Park siblings the following morning, excluding Y/n’s awareness of such matters. The boys were determined enough to keep their knowledge unsuspected to the mischievous pair. Although Jay and Niki were aggravated by the news, they saw it best to confront their sister in a more fortunate time.

On the contrary, Jungwon is enraged enough to retreat from their manor to give the young miss an impulsive lecture. He sets off with his horse, speedily galloping to the heart of the Kielder Forest.

“Y/n! I know you're here! You and I need to talk!” Jungwon aimlessly calls out as he takes quick steps to where her fort was situated, “Y/n!”

“What?!” The lass crawls out of her sheer fortress, looking utterly pissed with the boy’s sudden commotion.

“Have you lost your wits?!”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Jung.”

“You made a ruse with Sung- god, Y/n! What were you thinking?!” Jungwon runs his fingers through his ebony locks with definite frustration plastered all over his face, making Y/n flinch from his sudden whine.

“How did you-”

“How I discovered such a ridiculous act isn't of concern right now. Goodness, Y/n, I expected more from you!”

“Well, you should've expected less then!” She fiercely retorts.

“For god’s sake! You don't even know that man!”

“More like I know you? I couldn't even recognize you anymore!”

“That man has set his record with your brother-”

“Do not put Niki into this so as to protect your dying ego.”

“Then what’s all this? What's in it for him, huh? What did you offer Sunghoon that got your mind twisted?”

“A piece of my fucking mind because you were too dumb to even care! And don't you dare speak of him like you're mighty enough to reproach the man whose only desire was to help me!”

“Tell that to your brothers who feel shamefully betrayed right now by your reckless behavior!”

Jungwon heaves a sigh the moment Y/n goes quiet. The atmosphere suddenly went numbingly silent for a while. What with all the nonstop outbursts they both threw at each other, they forgot to stop and catch their breaths in the maddening heat of the moment.

Y/n breaks the deafening silence with light sniffles and soft sobs, tilting her head away from Jungwon’s sight. He witnesses her tears again for the first time in a very long while. It pains him to see her like this, but what shatters his soul, even more, is that he's the reason why her tears keep falling… and he couldn't take a step closer to wipe them away knowing they hadn’t resolved their previous fight.

So he stands there, mere inches away from her, hands so close yet so far, fists clenched tightly to stifle the urge to touch her, until Y/n feels a sudden rush of electricity through her entire body; Jungwon pulled her into a comforting embrace, making her snurfle into the warmth of his chest.

“Forgive me, I… I’m just very disappointed. For the longest time I’ve known you, not once did it ever occur to me that you would go this far to get my attention. I’m just worried for you.” With a hand holding onto her waist tightly, and the other, resting on her nape, Jungwon softly whispers against her ear while stroking her hair gently until her breathing calms down.

Y/n couldn't help but gradually crawl her arms around his slim waist, crumpling a handful of his jabot shirt from the back in desperation to suppress further sobs from embarrassing her. All of her raging thoughts suddenly came to a halt the moment their bodies connected with each other.

It was as if she's meant to be in this moment with him, to bathe in his comfort, to be in this dreamy embrace. It would be a lie for Jungwon to say he didn't want this. He was, after all, anticipating for such a moment to hug her like now. It's quite unfortunate that it had to be under such circumstances.

“Why does my involvement with Sunghoon bother you so much? Is it only because of Niki?” Y/n looks up to Jungwon, making the two merely inches apart from brushing their noses. Jungwon knew that he'd get lost in her compelling eyes, so he stared down at her parted, pinched lips-- though he wished he didn't at that moment, but he was too late. He finds himself running his tongue across his lips, all the while parting it as he tries to think of any far-fetched reasons to answer her question.

He lifts his thumb and grazes it over her flushed cheeks. Her tear-filled eyes still glisten as Jungwon leans closer, making Y/n shut them in an instant. Although she’s quite in a chagrin in their current position, Jungwon finds her unshakable figure as a sign that she's relaxed in his presence, making him feel less deterred from keeping her in his arms a little longer.

The chap plants soft kisses on her closed eyes that made Y/n inhale sharply. The fleeting, feather-like touches on her eyelids were more than enough for the lass to bathe herself in such momentary bliss. The moment she flutters her eyes open, her gaze meets his as he rests his forehead on hers.

“I hate seeing you cry. These beautiful eyes aren't meant for such miseries.” He whispers to which his breaths fan against her exhales.

“You always make me cry.” Jungwon softly chuckles at her slightly pouting lips, simultaneously thinking how lovely would it feel to have his lips locked on hers.

“Jay would genuinely torture me if he sees us right now.” Jungwon scrunches his nose as he playfully bumps it with hers.

“What would he do if he found us out? Let me go then.” She teases. Her hands find their way from his waist, to his nape, while playing with the little mullet he outgrew since the summer.

“I could never.”

Y/n sighs. His words had two meanings and fortunately, she's smart enough to know what he really meant. To answer her previous question, he wanted to tell her how much he loves her-- but his tongue is tied, and he can only let out gentle breaths and husky whispers. He couldn't find any words that would perfectly encompass his brimming emotions to her.

So he fails himself again with a shrug of his thoughts.

“Do you ever think we should just stop doing this?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“All these silly banters and stolen, longing stares. Could you be happy here with me?”

“The past few weeks have been nothing but emotional for me, Jung. You shut me out, then you take me back. You anger me lots yet in one swift move, you knock the wind out of my lungs. I’d be lying if I told you I’m not on top of the world sharing this moment with you right now. Because I am. I am happy. I don't think I would be if not with you.”

Then let’s run away right now. Let’s leave everything behind and run away together. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. That was what he wanted to say. But he gulps down all other thoughts and lets out the opposite.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.” He says.

The trip home was merely nothing but laughter and barbs as Jungwon shares embarrassing stories of her brothers while they were in university; trying their very best to ignore the desperate elephant in the room.

With hands constantly brushing against each other as they take their every step, Jungwon was downright close to seizing her hand completely and interlocking it with his.

“To be fair, this has been the only thing that's made the past agonizing weeks bearable.” He concludes the uplifting momentum as they walk closer to her humble abode.

“I'm ready to try again if you are?” Y/n mutters under her breath, but Jungwon clearly caught every single word. He slowly pulls away from the almost closed gap between them, looking at the ground like he always does when he's conflicted.

“What is it, Jung? Have I said something wrong?”

Jungwon shrugs his head in disapproval, though he wishes she hadn't said those words.

“I… I’m sorry. It's just…”

Jungwon thought there should've been a time and place, but this wasn't it. He doesn't want to take advantage of her vulnerability right now especially when Jay's trusted him enough to not fuck things up. With Sunghoon in the way and Niki's emotions in turmoil, he couldn't bear inserting himself in the middle of chaos, insinuating confusions any further when he could've been a better friend to Y/n rather than putting her feelings in silence.

Y/n was expecting this. Every time she and Jungwon would share a rather momentous moment, he’d chicken out and ghost her for however long he desired until he felt the need to pop back into her life again and tug at her heartstrings.

She stares at Jungwon's figure almost disappearing into the wild night. He ran away with deafening thoughts, while she stood there with a crushed heart… again.

With sadness, she realizes they need some time apart.

It's been a long, dragging week for the ton. Tranquil for some, as not many revelations from the Daily Tattle have been uncovered as of late.

The Park siblings have yet to talk about the matter of Y/n being a quisling to Sunghoon's endeavors. As of the moment, the young marquess continues on with his dilly-dallying courtship with the young miss, obliviously promenading her with genuine intentions this time around.

Jungwon and Y/n had only been apart for a week and already, he had a new lover hanging off his arm.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, Jungwon was having troubles with his thoughts and feelings as he saw her, yet again, traipsing around the park with an arm comfortably hanging onto Sunghoon.

With Y/n, he'd had some wonderfully stable times. But seeing how her smiles go from cheek to cheek and echoing laughter with the marquess’ presence makes her genuinely happy, Jungwon thought it’d be best if he stops himself from holding her back and enjoy her liberty without the past binding her like a prisoner of what could’ve been.

Sunghoon looks at her the same way he does. It churns his insides just thinking about it.

Yet he fears this might have to be his time to back away.

That week-long separation seemed to last forever for Jungwon as he finally concludes that he is no longer deserving of her hand anymore. Now that it's apparent that it’s about to be promised to another.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[cocastyle]

The In-Between Chapter 8

Stranger Things x It Crossover

with some Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 14,120

Warning - just a lot of emotions😭💗also, I put one of the It Chapter 2 scenes in here for Richie so here’s the warning for that!!

A/N- so this is THE LONGEST chapter I have written for this series but it’s 100% necessary for the series. this chapter is going to show a small but very important memory of Y/N with each of the characters, each one showcasing just a little bit of how much Y/N means to them which will help show you all how much her situation affects them. since there are so many characters and flashbacks that means this chapter is super long so I apologize in advance if you think it’s too long, but I just couldn’t split it up, you know? also, I changed a scene from It Chapter 2 and basically had it happen when Y/N was around to fit the storyline, so just pretend like it happened after they defeated It in the first movie, okay? anyways, I really hope you guys like this chapter! we still have plenty of more until the end! also, all flashbacks will be in italics!

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

T H E I N - B E T W E E N

Intro The Losers’ Club The Party Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Epilogue

Steve Harrington stared at the little girl in front of him, a small frown etched onto his face as he did so. It was only him and the little girl in the room, both of their parents out in the hallway conversing while Steve got left to watch the young girl and 'bond with her' as his parents had put it.

He didn't know what to think as he stared at the girl who was currently sleeping in the crib wrapped up in a small blanket. He didn't particularly like her at the moment even though she was only a baby, still unable to talk or annoy him like a regular person his age could.

No, she was five years younger than him and had only been born the week before. His parents were just really close parents with hers, so the moment his parents got the call about Y/N L/N being born, they were pulling him towards the car so that they could go visit.

Steve wouldn't admit it, but he was kind of jealous. He just didn't get how Y/N was so special and why his parents were gushing over her when they hardly paid attention to him half of the time.

"What makes you so special?" Steve softly asked as he leaned against the edge of the crib, his fist pushing against his cheek and causing his skin to scrunch up as he stared at her. He brushed his hair back with his hand and scrunched his nose up as Y/N started to move. The baby then let out a small yawn and Steve froze. Okay, so that was kind of cute.

Steve quickly shook his head, his mop of hair moving with him as he did so. He wouldn't allow himself to have those thoughts. He wouldn't let himself break when he was trying everything in his power not to like the girl that had stolen the attention of his parents away from him.

A small coo had him looking back down at the girl and his breath hitched slightly at the sight of big e/c eyes staring up at him. A huge grin appeared on her face as she looked up at him, her arm moving in a jerking motion as she squirmed. "I won't lie. You are kind of adorable," Steve muttered as he looked down at the girl. She let out a small coo and the corners of Steve's lips turned up ever so slightly.

He noticed that her blanket was staring to fall off and reached in to fix it, the small action causing Y/N to reach out and grab onto his thumb with her tiny hand. Steve instantly froze, his eyes flickering over to lock on the baby who was staring at him with wide eyes and a toothless grin. Steve's heart melted in that moment and he gently moved her arm up and down by moving his thumb that she was still latched onto. "I guess you're not that bad," Steve whispered.

As if understanding what he had said, Y/N let out a small laugh that made him smile as a giddy feeling filled the five year old's body. And it was in that moment, with the little girl staring up at him, that he realized the responsibility that he had now bestowed upon himself.

Steve lovingly rubbed the soft skin of Y/N's tiny hand before whispering, "I'm Steve. You don't have a brother right now, but. . .but I can be that for you if you want? I'll love you with all my heart and take care of you. And don't worry, I'll protect you, okay? I'll always protect you."

- - -

Lucas let out a small sigh as he looked around his first grade classroom, watching as the kids all went to sit by their friends, making sure to avoid his table entirely. He didn't know what he did that was so wrong, but no one ever seemed to want to talk to him or even sit at the same table as him.

Staring at his empty table, Lucas let out a sigh before reaching for the crayons and beginning to work on his drawing. He didn't even realize someone had walked up to his table before a small voice asked, "Can I sit here?"

Lucas almost fell out of his seat from the sudden noise and looked up with wide eyes to see a young girl standing there. She gave him a small smile and it was only then that he remembered she had asked him a question.

"Uh. . .sure. Yeah," Lucas smiled, happy that someone actually wanted to sit with him. He watched as she sat down, but his eyebrows furrowed in confusion once he saw her pull back the other chair as if someone were going to sit down.

The girl noticed his stare and slapped her forehead. "Silly me. I'm Y/N and this is my friend Frank," she said with a giggle. She then glanced at the empty seat before leaning closer to Lucas and whispering, "He's a bit shy." Lucas snickered and Y/N winked at him before pulling away and grabbing a green crayon. She began coloring and started to tell Lucas her whole life story it seemed like.

Lucas didn't mind. He actually enjoyed the girl's company, finding her quite funny and entertaining with the way she moved her hands around as she spoke. It was only when she was in the middle of telling Lucas a story about the time she broke her arm because Frank told her to try and stick a landing by jumping off a tree that her crayon broke and she fell silent.

"Shit."

The two froze at that and Lucas looked up at the girl who seemed a bit surprised that she had uttered that word. Her eyes locked with Lucas' and the two sat there for a moment before they burst into laughter, huge grins on their faces.

"I like you!" Lucas exclaimed as he pointed his crayon in her direction. He gave her a big grin before tilting his head and asking, "Want to be best friends?" Y/N returned the smile before saying, "Sure! I was getting kind of bored of Frank anyways. He likes to eat too much candy and I don't need that or the cavities in my life." She then picked up a red crayon before glancing over at the empty seat and shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry, Frank."

- - -

Dustin skipped out of school with a grin on his face as he headed towards his bike. It was the second week of second grade and Dustin loved it so far. He didn't have many friends except for a boy named Lucas, but he had slowly started becoming friends with two other boys named Mike and Will. He didn't care about not having many friends. He was just happy with life and that was all that mattered.

In that moment, Dustin was most excited about getting home to show his mother the small painting he had made for her today. It was two stick figures, one being him and one being his mother, with a small blob that he had determined was his cat Mews. He was no Picasso, but his mother wouldn't care. The fact that it was coming from him was all that mattered.

Dustin could see his bike by now and his grin widened just a little as he stopped skipping and went to run towards it. However, just when he went to step forward, the force of two hands shoving him in the back had him tumbling to the ground.

His hands scrapped against the ground as he tried to catch himself and he let out a small hiss of pain as he stilled on the ground. "Ouch," Dustin muttered, pulling himself up slightly so that he could turn and see who had just pushed him.

He let out a mental groan at the sight of Troy Walsh and his friend James Dante, the two school bullies in his grade. "Better watch where you're going, Toothless. You don't want to lose more teeth, do ya?" Troy cackled, James snickering from his side.

Dustin tried to get up, but James just shoved the boy down. Dustin let out a defeated sigh and looked up at the boys from under his hat. "I've told you before. I have cleidocranial dysplasia," he muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly as he was being bullied for a condition he couldn't control.

"Those are some big words. You sure you know what they mean?" James laughed. “You sure you do?" Dustin retorted earning glares from the boys before Troy sent a kick to his side. Dustin groaned and held onto his side while the two bullies glared at him.

"A little birdie told me you have a pretty gross trick you can do with your arm. We want you to show us, freak," Troy demanded. Dustin went to shake his head, but James kicked him hard enough to have him falling back again. "Show us!" James exclaimed.

Dustin looked up at the boys shyly before moving his arms in a weird way so that they popped. Troy and James both winced before Troy muttered, "That was disgusting. Do it again." "I don't want to," Dustin told them as he fixed the way his arms looked. Not that it hurt doing it, but the movement could feel uncomfortable at times.

"You really are a freak, aren't you?" Troy laughed before sending another kick at the boy's side. Dustin groaned and hugged his body close to himself as the boys continued to taunt and kick him. All he wanted was to go home, but the fact that he had no friends meant that he had no one who would stand up for him. So all he could do was wait until the boys were done having their fun.

"Hey, assholes!" a voice exclaimed making the kicking stop for a second as all three boys turned to see a girl in a yellow dress with her hair tied back with a yellow bow standing there with a glare on her face.

Dustin recognized her almost immediately. He had seen her hanging around Lucas quite often. The girl was Y/N L/N and her and Lucas had been best friends since the previous year. He had always wanted to try and talk to her, but she was never around Lucas when he was there and the idea of talking to a girl scared him from talking to her when she was around Lucas.

By now the kids that were outside waiting on their parents to pick them up had turned their attention over to the group and the girl who had just openly cussed in front of everyone. Some children were snickering while others were wide eyed, but no one made a move to stop them.

"I'm sorry. Were you talking to us?" Troy asked, turning his attention away from Dustin to look at Y/N in disbelief. "Well you're the only assholes here, so who else would I be talking to?" Y/N questioned. Troy and James both went to say something, but Y/N didn't even give them the time of day as she said, "Leave the boy alone."

"Who? Toothless over here?" James asked as he kicked Dustin for good measure. "No, I don't think we will," Troy told her. "Why? Because your life sucks so badly and you're so insecure that you have to make up for it by bullying others?" Y/N retorted, earning small snickers from the kids while Troy and James glared at her with red faces.

"Insecure? What makes you think we're insecure? If anything, you should be. I mean, with a rat face like yours who wouldn't be?" Troy laughed, James joining in, but Y/N only stared at them blankly, not fazed by them at all. The fact that she didn't react made the boys' laughter die down and a silence fell among the front schoolyard.

"Your words don't bother me, Walsh. Yours either, Dante. Want to know why? Cause why the hell would I listen to the two of you when you can't even take any of the quizzes in class without cheating off of others. And guess what? You still manage to fail! So why would the words of two dumbasses such as yourselves bother me?" Y/N asked, her eyebrows raised as she awaited an answer.

The laughter was getting louder by now and and Troy and James were both red faced. "I don't need to explain why you're insecure because I know you both know exactly what I'm talking about. Or do you want me to tell everyone right now just how much a pussy you two really are?" Y/N asked as she took a few steps closer to the boys.

To Dustin's surprise, they stepped back. "You bitch," James muttered. "No, you are the bitch," Y/N whispered in a dark tone. "So why don't you two stop being bitches and head home. Your mothers will be waiting for you."

Troy and James glared at the girl, but began to walk away. "You're going to pay for this, L/N!" Troy yelled after her. Y/N just rolled her eyes and flicked the boys off before turning away and looking to Dustin who was still on the ground. "You okay?" she asked as she walked over to the boy.

"Y-Yeah, I'm okay," Dustin said as he stared up at the girl in shock. Y/N smiled and held a hand out for the boy to take. He quickly grabbed on and she helped him into his feet before the two smiled at each other. “That was amazing," Dustin told her. "Thank you."

"Don't let them bother you. Troy and James are idiots," Y/N said. She stared at the boy for a moment before saying, "I think I've seen you with Lucas before. Lucas is like my best friend."

"Yeah, we've hung out a couple of times," Dustin told her before he held a hand out. "I'm Dustin by the way. Dustin Henderson." Y/N smiled and took his hand before shaking it. "Y/N," she said, "Y/N L/N." And that was the beginning of their friendship.

- - -

"Y/N can do it!" Wheeler exclaimed causing Y/N to blink out of her thoughts she had been having to see Wheeler, Dustin, and Lucas all staring at her. “What?" Y/N asked confused seeing as she hadn't listened to a word the boys were saying. She was too busy thinking about Will who had been missing for a couple of days now. She was really worried about him, so she had found herself drifting off into space more and more often because of how much she missed him.

"You're a girl," Dustin said causing Y/N to blink. "Wow. Nice going, Sherlock. How long did it take for you to figure that out?" Y/N asked sarcastically earning a snort from Lucas who high fived her while Dustin looked unamused.

"What we are getting at is that because you are a girl, you can help get El ready and like do her makeup and stuff," Wheeler explained. Y/N hesitated and let her eyes flicker over to the girl who had literally appeared out of no where.

Eleven was the girl the group had met in the woods the other night. She had been wearing ratty clothes, had all of her hair shaved off, and didn't seem to know many words since all of her responses were only a couple words long. Y/N still didn't entirely know the girl, but Eleven seemed nice enough and Y/N actually liked her. The fact that Eleven seemed to know how to help Will also made her more accepting of her as well.

"Okay, I'm going to pretend like you didn't just assume I know how to use makeup because I'm a girl. But I probably do know more than you three, so you guys figure out an outfit while I go do El's makeup," Y/N sighed. The boys nodded and Y/N was quick to turn and take Eleven's hand before gently pulling her towards Nancy Wheeler's bedroom where she knew she would be able to find makeup of some kind.

It took a few minutes, but the two girls were eventually sitting on Nancy's bed while Y/N did Eleven's makeup. Eleven was a shy girl and didn't like to say much, so Y/N just softly hummed as she worked, pretending not to notice the way Eleven looked at her and smiling softly when Eleven tried humming the song back.

"And done!" Y/N exclaimed once she had finished up, closing the lipstick as she leaned back to look at the girl. Y/N grinned before putting the makeup down and pulling Eleven off the bed, a small laugh escaping her lips as she brought the girl over to the mirror.

Eleven froze at the sight of herself before she hesitantly reached up and poked at her face. She was silent for a minute before whispering, "Pretty?" Y/N smiled and whispered, "You're pretty with or without the makeup, El."

Eleven smiled at that and Y/N returned it as she wrapped an arm around the girl's neck and hugged her, the two looking at their reflections. Eleven was silent again as her eyes flickered between her own reflection and Y/N's. Y/N could tell she wanted to ask something, so she didn't move as she waited for Eleven to speak.

"Friends?" Eleven finally asked, her eyes flickering to look at Y/N's through the mirror as if she were afraid to ask the question in fear of Y/N saying no. Y/N smiled and whispered, "Even better. We're best friends." Eleven smiled, obviously liking the sound of that. She found herself wrapping an arm around Y/N and hugging her just like Y/N was doing before whispering back in confirmation, "Best friends."

- - -

Playing D&D with only two people was quite hard and Y/N and Will didn't realize that until one afternoon when everyone else was busy. It didn't seem to bother either of them though since it only made the game that much more fun to figure out and Will really needed that at the moment.

It had been a couple of weeks since he had returned from the Upside Down and things hadn't been the same since before he had disappeared. Wheeler was depressed because of losing Eleven, so he had been kind of off the radar, wanting nothing more than to be alone. As for Lucas and Dustin, they talked to Will like they were walking on egg shells, so Will didn't hang out with them as much at the moment.

But Y/N was different. She knew how hard it was for Will to adjust after an experience like that, especially seeing as he couldn't even sleep without waking up screaming due to nightmares. Y/N knew Will would talk to her eventually, so she just decided to treat him like normal, joking and laughing around with him like the events that had taken place never happened. It helped both of them seeing as Y/N was also affected by the loss of Eleven.

Y/N treated Will like a normal human being and it was so comforting that he had been spending most of his days by her side, the two hanging out outside of school whenever the others couldn't and just enjoying being kids.

That's how they ended up where they were right now— in Will's living room playing D&D while Jonathan listened to music in his room. Lucas had had a doctor's appointment that day, Dustin had been grounded for accidentally setting his cat's tail on fire, and Wheeler had gone home, so Y/N had brought it upon herself to entertain Will by playing D&D.

Y/N was dressed up as a magician while Will was dressed up as a wizard and the two would break character every so often to chuckle at their outfits. Besides Will, Y/N was probably the second most enthusiastic about the game and she often took over the role of narrator when Wheeler didn't want to.

This was probably one of Will's favorite days with Y/N and he didn't know why. They were just playing a game, but maybe that's exactly why it was. There was no special treatment, no walking on egg shells. It was just the two of them, two best friends being the kids that they were.

Will watched Y/N silently, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how he had gained such a great friend like Y/N. As if sensing his stare, the girl glanced over at him, her hat tilting slightly as she did. She quickly fixed her hat and gave her friend an amused look as she raised her eyebrows. "What?" she asked, the corners of her lips turning up into a smile.

"I just. . ." Will hesitated and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Will smiled softly before whispering, "Thank you, Y/N." He didn't have to explain what he was thanking her for. It was for her treating him normally, for playing D&D with him, for just being his friend.

Y/N was silent for a minute as she just stared at her friend, her heart warming slightly as she realized just how much she had missed him while he was gone. She smiled, "No problem, Will the Wise. Now choose your action!"

Will let out a loud laugh and neither of the kids noticed Jonathan who was watching from the doorway, happy to see his brother finally acting like himself for once. Will glanced at his friend and gave her a sly look as he picked up the dice. "Fireball."

- - -

"Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?" Y/N muttered in frustration as she flipped through the pile of records she had in the box in front of her. Letting out a groan once she had hit the back of the box, Y/N turned her body to look at Wheeler who was standing on the other end of the store.

"Wheeler, tell me some good news please!" Y/N called out, but the frown on Wheeler's face was enough of a response. "Shit," the twelve year old muttered as she hurried over to one of the boxes she had checked when they first arrived at the record shop. It was the morning before the Party's monthly karaoke night at Y/N's house and Y/N needed to get the latest Bruce Springsteen record to be able to use. Her and Wheeler always sang a song together and they were determined to sing Born in the U.S.A. However, they couldn't do that until they found the record first.

"We've checked everywhere, L/N. I don't think they have it," Wheeler said as he came to a stop beside the girl. "But how? It's still such a new album!" Y/N complained. "Exactly. They probably sold out," Wheeler told her.

"May I help you two?" a small voice asked causing the two to turn and see a young woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties standing at the end of the aisle. "Oh, yes!" Y/N exclaimed as she hurried over to the woman. "We're looking for the new Bruce Springsteen record but can't seem to find it."

"Oh, you two are fans of Bruce? I think we sold our last record earlier this morning," the woman told them causing Wheeler and Y/N to frown. "But I think we might have a few stragglers in the back if you two want to come and check." The twelve year olds' eyes lit up and Y/N gripped onto Wheeler's arm as the two jumped up and down in excitement. "Yes, please!" they both exclaimed.

The woman chuckled before gesturing to follow her. She brought them to the back where there were a few boxes of records laying in storage. "You two are free to look through the boxes if you would like. I'll be out front once you two are done," the woman told them before she began to walk away. "Thank you!" the two kids yelled after her before they looked to the boxes. They glanced at each other before practically breaking into a run.

The two were looking through the boxes within seconds and it took a few minutes before Wheeler cried out triumphantly, "I found it!" Y/N's eyes lit up and she turned to see Wheeler holding the record up in the air. She squealed before running over to the boy and hugging him in excitement. "We hit the jackpot! Hurry! Let's go buy this so we can try it out!" Y/N said.

Wheeler nodded and the two went up to the front to pay for the record. It took about twenty minutes for them to buy the record and bike all the way to Y/N's house, but it was totally worth it once they heard the familiar beat of Born in the U.S.A filling the air.

"Born down in a dead man's town. The first kick I took was when I hit the ground," Y/N sang as she pointed to Wheeler, one hand up as if she were holding a microphone. Wheeler mimicked her actions and squeezed his eyes shut as he sang along to the music with as much passion as he could, "End up like a dog that's been beat too much. 'Til you spend half your life just covering up."

The two kids grinned before singing out, "Born in the U.S.A. I was born in the U.S.A!" The two kids danced crazily around the room with their eyes shut, neither of them realizing how close they had gotten before they tripped over each other's feet and went tumbling to the ground. Y/N and Wheeler opened their eyes and the moment their eyes locked, they burst into a round of childish laughter.

This is what it was like whenever the two were together. Their friendship could be a bit odd at times, but it was about as strong as her friendship with Lucas. They were best friends and partners in crime. But even more importantly, they were karaoke partners and that night when they sang along to their favorite song would just be another win on their long list of karaoke accomplishments.

So with their laughter filling the air and five more hours until the others were supposed to come over for karaoke night, the two kids got up and spun around the room, singing their favorite song and enjoying the moment they had together.

"I was born in the U.S.A. Born in the U.S.A."

- - -

"You sure this is going to work?" Max whispered as she stared at the place in front of her. Y/N glanced over at her friend and chuckled before nudging her. "Of course it will," she told her. "Besides, you're with me. They love me."

Max rolled her eyes at her friend's ego and Y/N chuckled before linking her arm with her friend, the two walking into Scoops Ahoy side by side. "Harrington!" Y/N cried out before said boy came running out of the back room.

His eyes searched frantically before he saw Y/N standing there with Max by her side at the counter. "You little shit," he breathed out. "You can't just come running in here yelling for me like that. I thought something was wrong."

"But something is wrong," Y/N told him, the boy raising an eyebrow in amusement as a response. "I'm hungry." Steve rolled his eyes, but let out a small chuckle. "You've got a problematic life I see," he joked making Max chuckle while Y/N reached across the counter to lightly punch the boy's arm. "What would you two like?"

"Can we try one of everything and then decide what we want?" Y/N asked as she put an innocent smile on her face. Steve looked at her unamused. "I know what you're trying to do-" he began, but Y/N leaned on the counter and gave him her best pleading face as she batted her eyelashes. "Please, Stevie. Please," she said.

Steve was silent for a minute before a voice behind him said, "You're screwed." The group turned to see Robin standing with a whiteboard that had Y/N's name written on one side and Steve's on the other. "I know you, Harrington, and Y/N just pulled the puppy dog eyes on you. She's going to win this round once again," Robin said as she went ahead and drew another tally mark under Y/N's name, adding it to the collection of tally marks already there.

"No one asked you. Put that thing away!" Steve exclaimed in annoyance. Robin chuckled and held her hands up in surrender before pushing the board aside. Steve rolled his eyes before turning back to Y/N and Max who were both now giving him their best puppy eyes. He let out a sigh. "Fine. I'll get you two your samples. Now go ahead and sit down," he told them.

Y/N grinned before leaning across the counter to kiss Steve's cheek. "Thanks, Steve. Love you!" she exclaimed as she turned and dragged Max away to go find a seat. "Love you too, squirt," Steve chuckled before going to get the samples for the girls.

"Holy shit. I can't believe that worked," Max muttered as the two slid into a booth. "It's Steve. He's a sucker when it comes to me," Y/N laughed. "I love him so much."

"I wish Billy was like that. Steve isn't even your real brother," Max pouted. "He might as well be," Y/N muttered. "I'm sorry about, Billy. I think he's just going through some things right now. But in the end, he's always going to love you." Max smiled softly at that and gave Y/N a thankful nod.

"I wish Eleven was here," Y/N said, trying to change the subject. "The three of us hanging out together? Think of all the mischief we could get into!" Max chuckled, "Yeah, but's she's too busy sucking faces with Mike." The two grimaced at the thought before letting out loud laughs.

"You know, I'm glad you moved here," Y/N suddenly said, the comment making Max freeze before she looked to her friend with a smile. "I don't know. I mean, I love the boys and everything, but it's nice having some friends that are girls as well." Max smiled softly, thankful that Y/N had said that especially since she had been doubting herself in the friend group recently. "Thanks, Y/N. It's a pleasure to be able to save you from the boys," Max jokingly said.

The two girls chuckled and were in the middle of laughing when Steve set their samples down before them. Their eyes instantly lit up and Steve pointed a finger at them. "Just this time, okay?" he said. "Yes, sir!" the two girls said before they mock saluted him, thus causing another round of laughter. Steve rolled his eyes with a smile on his face before he ruffled Y/N's hair and went back to working.

Max and Y/N both glanced at each other before looking to the samples before them. There were so many that they knew they wouldn't be hungry when they were done. Y/N smirked before looking up at the red head.

"First once to get a brain freeze loses."

"Oh you're so on."

- - -

"Dammit," Mike Hanlon muttered as he stared at the bags that had fallen from his bike and onto the sidewalk. Luckily nothing had spilled, but he was going to be late to meet up with his friends if he didn't get all of his shit together.

With a frown on his face, Mike set his bike up against a building before bending down to pick up the packages he had to deliver later. His grandfather had been in a good mood and allowed him to meet up with his friends before delivering the packages, so Mike could not mess this up.

Today was the day he was supposed to be meeting the girl who had become close to the Losers. From what the others had told him, she had just moved from Indiana and seemed to be pretty amazing. He hadn't had the chance to meet her yet because he was homeschooled and work had kept him busy, but he was finally getting to meet the girl today and Mike was honestly quite nervous. He wondered what she would be like especially since each of the Losers has described her in different ways.

Stan had called her a great listener while Eddie called her a kind and understanding person. Beverly had described her as the coolest chick one would ever meet and Ben had talked about how she had great taste in music. Then there was Richie who, in true Richie fashion, had called her a babe much to Bill's annoyance. And finally Bill, who was obviously crushing on the girl, had just gushed about how great of a person she was before realizing he was getting carried away and becoming embarrassed. Mike knew he was going to like the girl just from the way his friends described her, but whether she liked him or not was the nerve racking part.

Lost in his thoughts, Mike didn't even seem to realize someone was helping him pick up the packages until his head smacked into theirs. Both of them let out a groan before Mike looked up to see a girl staring at him. She gave him a small sheepish smile before saying, "Sorry, are you okay?" "No need to apologize. It was my fault," Mike quickly rushed out as he stood up, the girl following suit. The two stood there awkwardly for a moment and Mike blinked before turning and trying to put the packages back into the basket on his bike.

Noticing the struggle, the young girl who looked to be around his age chuckled and said, "Here. Let me help." Before Mike could say anything, she had reached out and taken the packages from Mike. In a matter of seconds she had the packages in the basket and was tying them in place with some string that he had tried to use, but failed to use properly.

Once she was done, the packages were so secure Mike knew they wouldn't fall. He looked to the girl surprised and she smiled before saying, "I was the newspaper girl back in my old town, so I kind of learned how to tie the huge pile of newspapers onto my bike pretty well." "Well, thanks," Mike told her, smiling softly as he did. "It's no problem really," she said. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go. I'm supposed to be meeting someone in a couple of minutes."

"Funnily enough, me too. Hopefully I see you around?" Mike suggested. The girl smiled and gave him a short nod before hopping onto her bike and pedaling away. It wasn't until she was gone that Mike realized he never got her name. Mike shrugged it off and checked his watch before muttering, "Shit." He was going to be late at this rate.

Mike quickly hoped into his home before pedaling across town and towards the quarry. Thankfully he made it with a minute to spare. However, the Losers were already there so he knew Richie was going to give him crap for not being there early.

The boy put his bike stand up before getting off his bike and running over to the cliff where the Losers were all standing there talking to someone that he couldn't quite see. It was when the others noticed him and stepped out of the way that Mike's eyes widened in disbelief.

He watched as the girl who had helped him earlier walked out, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she tilted her head at him. "Hello again. I'm guessing you're Mike, right?" she asked, the boy nodding in response. "Nice to meet you, Mike. I'm Y/N."

- - -

Richie and Y/N hadn't always been as close as they were. In fact, Richie had been a little skeptical about the girl at first, although it didn't quite show since he never allowed his true feelings to be on display for everyone to see.

So when he had invited the Losers to come to the arcade with him and Y/N had been the only one free, Richie had honestly debated on just not showing up. However, Richie wasn't that type of person and knew he would feel guilty about it for the next six months if he didn't show, so Richie made a point to go to the arcade and had even gotten there early to make sure he wasn't late when Y/N showed up.

While he waited, Richie found himself playing Streetfighter with a boy who he didn't know the name of. He didn't know how long they were playing, but both boys were laughing and kept sneaking glances at each other as they played. Richie had only felt this way around one other person, but he was still coming to terms with it, so he pushed it aside.

It was only when the game was over and the boy went to walk away that Richie realized he didn't want to boy to leave and began to panic. "Um. . ." Richie quickly grabbed a quarter and held it up for the boy to see. "How about we play again? Play some more, you know?"

The boy was silent for a minute before he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of some kid whimpering. He caught sight of Henry Bowers before turning back to Richie who, not wanting to make the boy uncomfortable, quickly added, "Only if you want to."

"Dude, why are you being weird?" the boy said making Richie furrow his eyebrows confused. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend." Richie's eyes widened. "Woah, I-I didn't-" Richie began to say, but he was cut off by Bowers appearing behind the boy with the rest of his gang.

At that moment, Y/N came rushing into the arcade looking a little frazzled. She checked her watch and muttered, "Shit." She was a couple of minutes late and she really hoped Richie was still here. She bolted into the arcade, but paused once she saw that everyone was standing still as they watched Bowers yell at Richie.

"You trying to bone my little cousin?" Bowers asked, Richie's face growing red as he stood there frozen in place not knowing what to think or what was happening. "Get the fuck out of here, faggot! Fucking move!"

Before Y/N could so much as react, Richie was running out of the arcade, the tears obviously blurring his vision as he stumbled outside. Y/N stared after her friend before hearing laughter in the air. She turned and her eyes instantly locked on Bowers who was laughing like he had just done the funniest thing in the world. She didn't know what she was doing, but she was blinded by rage and before she knew it Bowers was on the floor and she was on top of him, her fists punching him repeatedly as she screamed at him and cussed him out for what he had done to Richie.

As she did a double fist dance on Bowers' face, Richie sat outside on a bench in the park across the street from the arcade, his face in his hands as he cried. He didn't even care if anyone saw him at the moment, the idea of holding back his emotions only making him cry harder.

"Fucking Bowers!" Richie yelled out as he brought his hands up to his hair and pulled. "Fuck!" He was sobbing at this point, everything hurting so much that he didn't notice anything that was happening around him. He didn't even notice Y/N standing before him before she whispered, "Richie?"

Richie hesitated at that before he quickly wiped his tears away and looked up at the girl, her eyes already looking at him with so much concern that it made his heart ache. No one had ever looked that worried over him. He didn't know what it felt like to have someone care about him that much to be worried for him the way she was. Although hiding his emotions made it hard for anyone to ever worry about him. Anyone except for Eddie.

"Richie, are you okay?" Y/N whispered, her eyes pleading with him to tell her what was going on. She had called him Richie, not Tozier, Richie realized. For some reason, that alone was enough to make him break down a little more and he looked back down. "Of course I'm okay," Richie tried to reply in his usual upbeat tone, but him having to wipe away his own tears took away the effect.

Y/N was silent for a moment before she sat down next to the boy. Richie stared at the ground, not wanting to look her in the eyes. Y/N remained silent a little longer before she placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered again, "Richie, are you okay?" Richie broke at that, the sobs returning while Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around him causing the boy to turn and hug her back just as tight. She let him stay like that as long as he needed before the boy eventually pulled away, his eyes landing on her hands which were caked with blood.

"Well shit, what happened to you?" Richie asked with a small laugh as he wiped away his tears. “I beat the shit out of Bowers, that's what happened," Y/N explained, finally allowing Richie to connect the dots and realize that she had seen everything that had happened in the arcade.

For some reason, he found himself chuckling at that and turning his head so that he could look at her. He stared at her for a moment before suddenly blurting out, "I'm gay." Y/N glanced at the boy and Richie blushed before looking away and whispering, "Fuck. That wasn't how I wanted to say that. Fuck, Richie, you fucking loser. Holy shit, I can't believe I just- Fuck!"

Richie let out a sigh before looking at his hands. "I know you saw what happened in the arcade with Bowers, but I didn't even do anything. I didn't even know that was his cousin for starters. We were just playing Streetfighter and I asked if he wanted to play again and he started making fun of me before Bowers appeared and then you know the rest," Richie went on.

Richie was red faced by now. He had never opened up to someone like this before especially not to Eddie who he knew would never know about any of this. So telling Y/N was a big deal for him and he suddenly felt weird about having told her, the fear of rejection looming over him as he sat there. He was embarrassed.

Y/N was silent for longer than Richie would've liked, but she eventually reached out and took his hand before giving it a small squeeze and whispering, "Rich?" The boy was hesitant but let his eyes flicker over to her, the small smile she gave him making him relax a little bit. "It's okay if you're gay or straight or bi. Who you like isn't what defines you. You're still the same person. And I'm going to love you no matter what because you're still Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier," Y/N assured him.

Richie was silent for a moment as he stared at the girl in disbelief. His eyes began to well with tears and it took him a moment longer to reach out and hug the girl, the weight from finally telling someone and being accepted for who he really was being lifted off his shoulders. Y/N hugged the boy back and, once again, allowed him to hug her for as long as he needed. It was only when he pulled away that she stood up and held a hand out to him.

"Come on. I brought a bag full of quarters and I intend on using them," she told him, a small smile on her face as she stared at the boy. "What about Bowers?" Richie asked, trying not to seem like he was afraid of coming face to face with the boy once again.

"We can handle him," Y/N assured him. "Besides, he's got a shit punch anyways." Richie let out a small snort at that before reaching out and taking the girl's hand. She smiled and pulled him up onto his feet before they began to walk away from the bench.

And with that, the two went back to the arcade hand in hand, both of them happy that they now had a new best friend by their side.

- - -

Birds were Stan's favorite animals. They always had been since he was five years old and he was gifted a book on birds for his birthday. Since that day he had used that very book every Saturday, the day he would sit outside or camp out in the woods to just look at the birds and see which ones he could find.

Stan tended to go bird-watching by himself, the other Losers not particularly liking the activity. Each of them had come with him once before, but it didn't take much for Stan to notice how bored they were before he would sigh and let them leave. They always felt somewhat guilty for it—minus Richie who made some crude joke before leaving— but Stan always assured them it was okay and they would go, leaving Stan behind to bird-watch by himself once again.

But things changed one Saturday morning when Y/N decided she wanted to see what Stan spent his time doing when the others weren't around. Stan was afraid to show her seeing as she was one of his newest friends and he didn't want to scare her away.

He quite liked Y/N actually and the two had become almost as close as he was with all the other Losers. Y/N tried to divide her time up equally with everyone, but it wasn't much of a surprise that she spent just a little more time with Bill than the others. So when Y/N had asked Stan to let her tag along, the boy had been both surprised and nervous. For some reason, he really didn't want Y/N to be bored and make fun of him like the others.

To his surprise, Y/N did the exact opposite. They had been bird-watching for an hour now and Y/N hadn't lost the small sparkle in her eyes or the smile on her face as she desperately searched for the birds among the trees. Every so often she would nudge the boy and ask him what bird the one she was pointing at was and he would whisper facts to her while they stared at the bird ahead. It was the first time someone was genuinely interested and the fact warmed Stan's heart.

"Stanley," Y/N whispered before she nudged him gently, instantly knocking him out of his thoughts. "Stanley. Stanley. Stanley. Stan. Stan the Man." Stan chuckled softly before whispering back, "Yes?" Y/N glanced at the boy before pointing towards a small bird that was blue with a light yellow belly and a black stripe across its head that led away from the beak. "What's that one?" she asked softly in an attempt to not scare the bird away.

Stan turned his attention to the bird and narrowed his eyes slightly before whispering, "That bird is called a nuthatch. You know they can walk up and down a tree? They are really smart too. Some of them even use a piece of bark to help pry open other pieces of bark so that they can look for insects." "Woah," Y/N breathed out. "That's so cool."

Stan chuckled and whispered out a few more facts about the bird while they watched it walk up the tree. Eventually the bird flew away and Y/N made that same face where her lips opened up as a huge grin broke out on her face, her sparkling eyes following the bird until it had disappeared before she leaned back with a small content sigh escaping her lips.

Y/N had never realized how calming and intriguing bird-watching could be. Her life was always moving fast, so getting the chance to sit down and enjoy the world instead of running from its horrors was something she couldn't thank Stan enough for.

"Stanley?" Y/N whispered, the name falling from her lips with ease. Stan had told her plenty of times that she could call him Stan, but she still called him by his first name most of the time. He wouldn't admit it, but he secretly liked the fact that she did. "Yeah?" Stan asked, his eyes flickering over to look at her before he looked back out at the different birds that were flying around.

"Thanks for bringing me along."

Stan kind of froze at that before turning his head so that he could get a good look at her. Y/N was staring at the birds with a warm smile on her face, the sunrise hitting her face so that it glowed. Not that he would ever think of her in that way, but for a second he could see why Bill liked her so much.

"Thanks for coming with me," Stan told her, the girl sending a small smile in his direction before reaching out and squeezing his hand gently. And with that, the two turned their attention back to the birds.

Their friendship became ten times stronger that day and from then on they spent every Saturday morning in Stan's backyard watching the birds and taking a break from life.

- - -

The soft rustling of pages as he and Y/N flipped the pages of their books was all Ben could hear that Friday evening. They were in the library doing research on Hawkins since Ben found all of the events Y/N had described to be almost as interesting as Derry.

It had all started when she first told them about her life in Hawkins during the first day of school. She hadn't opened up about some of the more serious stuff until the group had become close and Ben hadn't been able to stop himself from raising his eyebrows and muttering, "Hawkins, Indiana? Well I guess I know the next place I'm going to research."

That's how the two had ended up in the library a week later, no one in the group except for the two of them wanting to go research the place. They had spent probably the last two hours in the place just flipping through different books, but nothing had popped out.

Y/N was currently reading a Russian book which Ben had questioned about, but she hadn't given him an explanation, only smiling and opening the book before beginning to read. Ben on the other hand was reading a book about Hawkins itself and hadn't found anything out of the ordinary which made the town that much more of a mystery.

Ben was just about to flip the page again when a soft humming suddenly filled his ears, the tune making him freeze as he recognized it almost instantly. His eyes flickered up to Y/N who had started to move her lips as she quietly whispered to a Kids on the Block song, one that Ben was very familiar with.

"First time was a great time. Second time was a blast. Third time I fell in love. Now I hope it lasts," Y/N whispered, not one hundred percent realizing what she was doing. Ben was quick to whisper the next lines which made the girl look up at him in shock, "I can see it in your walk. Tell 'em when you talk. See it in everything you do. Even in your thoughts.” The two grinned before whispering together, "You got the right stuff, baby. Love the way you turn me on. You got the right stuff, baby. You're the reason why I sing this song."

They didn't realize their voices were raising, each of them getting more excited about the fact that someone they knew was a huge Kids on the Block fan like them. For Y/N, the only other person she could sing with had been Wheeler, but for Ben, he had never had anyone.

"All that I needed was you. Oh girl, you're so right. And all that I wanted was you," they sang. "You made all-" Y/N said before she pointed to the boy with a grin. "My dreams come true," Ben finished. "The right stuff." "The right stuff," Y/N nodded with a small laugh. The two went to sing the next part of the song when they were suddenly hushed by the librarian. Y/N and Ben froze before turning to see that everyone in the library was looking at them and that the librarian was even glaring at them.

The two went red faced and gave the group apologetic smiles before looking back down at their books. They waited a second before glancing up at each other and chuckling softly. "The right stuff," Ben whispered making Y/N grin so big that Ben couldn't help but smile back. She nodded before reaching out and fist bumping the boy. “The right stuff."

- - -

"What are we doing here?" Beverly asked confused as she glanced over at Y/N who was smiling and practically bouncing up and down on her feet. Beverly looked at the clothing store in front of her before looking to Y/N again and raising an eyebrow.

"Back in Hawkins, two of my closest friends were Eleven and Max. We would have these girl days where we would hang out at the mall and try on clothes and just have fun. I know you haven't been in the best mood this week," Y/N began. Beverly went to deny it, but Y/N just smiled and said, "And don't deny it because Ben already told me. Anyways, I wanted to cheer you up by having a girls day and since Derry doesn't have a mall, this is the next best option."

Beverly was silent for a minute as she tried to process what Y/N was saying. Finally she let you a small sigh and gave the girl a weak smile. "Okay, but only for an hour or two," Beverly said making Y/N squeal in excitement before grabbing her arm and pulling the red head into the store. “Trust me, Bev. By the time an hour is up you're never going to want to leave," Y/N said.

"Okay," Beverly said, obviously not believing her. However, Beverly realized just how wrong she was once the two were reaching the end of their second hour of shopping. They weren't even buying anything, only trying on clothes and looking at themselves in the mirror. But somehow Y/N had made it fun.

Y/N had them both try on ridiculous outfits and they would spend forever looking the mirror at themselves as they laughed to the point where workers had to come up and ask if they were okay. Y/N had even brought a Polaroid so that they could take pictures to remember all the fun they were having and she made Beverly pretend as if she were walking down a runway while Y/N took pictures of her, the two girls bursting into giggling fits every couple of minutes.

By the time the two hours was up, Beverly never wanted to leave and the fact only made her mood dampen. Y/N noticed the sudden change in demeanor and frowned as she watched Beverly reluctantly putting the clothes away.

"Hey," Y/N whispered as she came to Beverly's side and placed a hand on the red head's shoulder. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" Beverly was silent for a minute before giving the girl a small smile. "Nothing," she assured her despite them both knowing she was lying.

"No, Bev. Come on. You don't need to lie. You can tell me anything. I promise I won't judge," Y/N said. "Was it all the pictures? I'm sorry. I should've asked before I-" “No, it wasn't the pictures," Beverly assured her. "I'm glad we have the memories."

Y/N smiled and Beverly returned it before looking down at her hands sadly. "I'm just a little sad it had to end is all," Beverly explained. "I never really had friends up until I met the boys, so I've never had a girl friend to hang out with. I guess I just didn't realize what I was missing and I'm afraid for it to end. I'm sorry. It probably sounds stupid."

"No, Beverly. It's not stupid," Y/N said. "I know how you feel. Until I met Eleven and Max, my four best friends were all guys. I hadn't even realized what having another girl around would be like and I was so afraid of losing Eleven and Max because I enjoyed getting away from the boys and spending time with them. I promise you this won't be the last girl day, okay? I can only handle Richie's trashmouth for so long."

Beverly chuckled softly before looking at her friend and smiling at her. "Thanks, Y/N," she whispered. Y/N smiled back and pulled Beverly in for a hug, the gesture making Beverly freeze for a moment before she fell into Y/N's embrace and hugged her back.

"Thanks for hanging out with me today," Y/N told her. "But the fun doesn't have to end here." Beverly pulled away to look at the girl and Y/N smirked. "Ice cream?" Beverly chuckled and shook her head at her friend before saying, "I thought you'd never ask."

- - -

All Eddie could hear was his own erratic breathing as he desperately tried to reach for his inhaler which was in his fanny pack. The only problem was that his fanny pack had been torn off of him by Henry Bowers and was lying on the concrete a few feet away and Bowers wouldn't let him near it long enough for him to grab his inhaler. His chest was on fire, his throat closing off more and more every second as it felt like someone was literally sitting on his lungs. He was growing more and more panicked, so his breathing continued to get worse and worse as tears filled his eyes.

This seemed to make Henry laugh harder and that made him start shoving and kicking Eddie harder than before. Eddie mentally cursed himself for having been walking alone. He had stayed after school to have a talk with his teacher and told the others to go ahead on to the quarry where he said he would meet them. Richie had been a little reluctant to go, but had left with the other Losers, leaving Eddie by himself. Eddie thought he would've been safe from Bowers, but it seemed as if Bowers had been waiting for him because the moment he stepped out of school, Bowers was there waiting.

Another kick to the side made Eddie's wheeze grow louder. He was biting his lip as he attempted not to cry, but his asthma was bothering him to the point where he could barely function and he knew if he didn't get to his inhaler soon he would end up having a full blown asthma attack.

As if sensing his prayers, the kicking and punching stopped, allowing Eddie to crawl over to his fanny pack and grab his inhaler. He quickly took a hit before holding his breath, allowing the medicine to fill his lungs and bring him some relief. He repeated the step once more, the medicine instantly making him feel better and allowing the beating of own heart in his ears to disappear.

Eddie put the inhaler in his fanny pack before putting it back around his waist and turning to see what had happened to Bowers. To his surprise, Y/N was standing there with a bloody fist while Bowers laid on the ground holding his face. He didn't even have time to think about why Y/N was still at school before Bowers was yelling out in anger.

"You bitch! I'm going to beat the shit out of you!" Bowers yelled as he pushed himself up and went to lunge for her, but Y/N was so mad that she merely swung back before sending her fist right into Bowers nose. A loud cracking nose filled the air and Eddie winced as he looked at Bowers who had fallen onto the ground with his nose turned at a weird angle. Eddie then quickly looked to Y/N and he paled at the sight of wrist bent in the wrong direction.

"Shit," he heard her whisper before she turned and looked to the boy. Her eyes widened at the sight of Eddie and she quickly ran over to him. "Eddie, are you okay?" "I'm. . .I'm fine. Your wrist though," Eddie muttered, his face paling more as he saw the injury up close. A groan had them both looking to see Bowers starting to get up off the ground.

Y/N was quick to think and grabbed Eddie's hand with her good one before pulling him up off his feet and dragging him away from the school as the two bolted away. They didn't stop running until they knew Bowers was far behind them and even then, Eddie had to be the one to stop the girl, his eyes still trained on her wrist.

They were both breathing heavily as Eddie gently reached out and went to move Y/N's wrist. She instantly winced and Eddie began to breath frantically as he started to panic. “It's broken. Shit, it has to be broken. We have to get help. We have to get you to the hospital. Do you know where the closest hospital is? Actually I think it's a few streets down. We should probably go before your wrist gets any worse. Shit, this is my fault! Why would you do that, Y/N?" Eddie rambled.

"Eds," she said causing the boy to quiet down and look at her. She was the only one that was ever allowed to call him that, so Eddie wasn't even fazed by the nickname. "First of all, I'm going to be fine, so calm down. Second of all, it was one hundred percent worth it. Bowers was being an asshole and I wasn't about to let him continue to treat you like that. Are you okay?" Before Eddie could think properly, the girl had reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes, a gesture that made him blush because he had seen mothers do that to their own kids but he had never been on the receiving end of that kind of touch.

"I'm. . .I'm fine. My inhaler helped," Eddie explained. "But we shouldn't be worrying about me. You're the one with a broken hand." Y/N just shrugged before letting out a small chuckle and saying in excitement, "But, Eds, did you see his nose? That thing's got to be broken as well!" Eddie looked at the girl in disbelief, silently wondering how she was able to remain so calm when her hand was literally broken. Then again, Y/N L/N always had been one to surprise him.

Smiling lovingly at the girl who was not only his best friend but like a sister as well, the boy gently took her good hand before tugging her forward. "Come on, my knight in shining armor. Let's get you to the hospital and get that wrist checked out," Eddie said, feeling a little more calm now thanks to Y/N who he knew had purposefully been cracking jokes and acting like everything was okay just to keep him calm. Y/N didn't fight him that time and the two made their way to the hospital. Y/N walked out that day with Eddie by her side and a bright white cast on that day with one signature already on it. Eds.

- - -

"A shower cap?"

Stan blinked in surprise before nodding his head. "Yeah, it's supposed to help keep the spiders out of your hair," he explained as he held the shower cap out for his friend. He had made a special trip out to the pharmacy to get her one, so he really hoped she would just take it, even if she didn't use it. Y/N smiled at the boy before taking the shower cap from him, the boy instantly relaxing in response. "Thanks, Stanley," she said before she put the shower cap on and looked to the others. They were all busy either talking or doing something else, so no one was looking at her except for Stan and Bill, the later smiling at her in an almost dreamy sort of way as he too wore his shower cap.

Bill chuckled softly at the sight of her and Y/N glanced at him before making a small face causing the two to burst into a round of laughter that had the other Losers looking at them and shaking their heads at how oblivious the two teens were. The Losers all looked away, leaving Bill, Y/N, and Stan the only ones paying attention once again.

"How did I look?" she questioned, directing it more towards Bill which Stan quickly realized. Stan smirked before walking way, neither of the teens noticing because of the fact that they were too caught up with each other. "B-B-Beautiful as always," Bill whispered, a blush dusting his cheeks at his own words. Y/N instantly blushed before smiling thankfully at Bill and leaning back in the hammock she had been lying in. She had to fight Richie and Eddie for it, but Eddie gave in almost instantly because he loved making the girl happy so it had been mostly her fighting Richie over the hammock before he had eventually caved and let her have it.

Now that she had the shower cap on, Y/N was busying herself with reading a Spider-Man comic while the others all goofed off, Bill secretly sneaking glances at her every so often. It had been one of the days they spent at the quarry which meant the evening was spent in their clubhouse that Ben had built under ground, thus leading to the spider problem. However, it was already getting quite late, so the Losers were slowly beginning to leave one by one. Y/N was too lost in her comic to really notice, but that didn't stop her from calling out a goodbye every so often. As for Bill, his eyes hadn't left the girl since she put the shower cap on, the sight being just too adorable for him to look away.

Stan and Ben were the last ones to leave the clubhouse that night and they rolled their eyes at the sight of Bill staring at their best friend, his feelings so obvious that they wondered if Y/N was really as smart as she claimed to be. "Night guys," Stan called out before he began to climb up the ladder, Ben quickly following. "Bye, Ben! Bye, Stan!" Y/N called out, momentarily looking up to smile at the boys before she was back to reading her comic.

"B-B-bye, guys," Bill said as he waved at the two. They just smirked at him and waved back before disappearing into the night, not noticing the look of confusion on Bill's face as they did so. Bill didn't think too much about the smirks his friends had sent him before he let his eyes flicker back over to Y/N who was looking up from the comic and at the empty clubhouse. "Woah. When did everyone leave?" she muttered in confusion.

"A w-w-while ago," Bill chuckled as he titled his head at the girl. "M-M-Maybe if you weren't t-t-too busy reading you would've n-n-noticed." Y/N gasped in fake shock before saying, "Let me tell you, Bill Denbrough. Peter Parker is nothing to joke about." Bill chuckled and she couldn't stop herself from smiling at the sight of the beautiful boy before she waved him over.

Bill was quick to walk over to her and she smiled before holding the comic out. "Peter Parker is above his time, Bill. He's smart, sarcastic, funny, and a freaking superhero! He genuinely cares about people and he is always-" Y/N began to ramble on about the superhero, but her words fell on deaf ears as Bill just stared at her in amazement.

His eyes flickered over her face and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek or the way her e/c eyes would flicker between him and the comic as she excitedly talked about the superhero she loved so much. It was like he was trying to memorize every inch of her face which maybe he was. He never wanted to forget this moment, even if nothing significant was happening. Y/N just looked so beautiful, shower cap and all, and Bill couldn't stop himself from not wanting to remember every little detail of this moment. The smell of wood in the air mixing with the strawberry scent of Y/N's shampoo that swirled through the air because of how close they were. The creaking of wood and the sound of the night filling the air around them. Then there was him and Y/N, Bill kneeling down beside the hammock with one hand against his cheek while the other was holding onto Y/N's hand, something neither had noticed yet.

A small smile appeared on Bill's face as he watched the girl and she paused for a moment before staring at him with an unreadable expression. Finally, she returned the smile before grabbing onto his arm and tugging him slightly as she whispered, "Come here." Bill's face reddened a little, but he still managed to pull himself into the hammock, Y/N instantly snuggling up against him as his arm wrapped around her waist.

Y/N seemed to be unfazed by the new step of their relationship, the two having never cuddled before, let alone been this close unless it was just to hug. Instead, she was already reading the comic out loud, adding her own little comments here and there to make Bill laugh, knowing that each laugh made him rest his face against the side of hers momentarily before he pulled away to look at the comic.

Or at least she thought he was looking at the comic. But in reality, his eyes were on her. Just like they always were and like they always would be. For to him, there was no better way to spend his evening than admiring the girl that had stolen his heart since the first day he met her almost two years ago.

- - -

The basement was unusually quiet that night as the Party and the Losers all sat in Y/N's basement trying to comprehend the events that had taken place only an hour before. None of them were able to come to terms with what had happened and no one even knew what to say. The silence was one they could all feel, each of them distantly hearing Y/N's laugh or one of her sarcastic and witty comments. It was haunting almost and the group could feel themselves breaking more and more with each second that passed.

Everyone was affected by what had happened to Y/N, but they all knew Bill was affected in a deeper way than they were. While their love for Y/N was merely a platonic, more family type of love, what Bill felt for the girl was the opposite. He cared about her so much that the group could practically feel their hearts aching for him, especially when they saw him sitting blankly in the corner with a tear stained face, red eyes, and his jacket clutched in his shaking hands.

"What are we going to do?" Eddie finally whispered as he wiped at the tears on his face. All he could think about was his friend, the girl who had stood up for him and who had promised to not let anything happen to him. Eddie could only think about how he should've promised that to her as well. He should've insisted on going with her, making sure that the girl was safe and by his side. Then maybe what happened wouldn't have happened.

"We're getting her back," Steve said, all eyes falling on him as he tried to act like he was fine despite the tears that kept falling from his eyes. The tears were collecting on his chin, threatening to fall down, and Steve was quick to wipe them away with a sniff. "That's what we're fucking going to do."

"Oh, really? And how do you plan on doing that, Einstein?" Richie asked bitterly, his emotions being out of whack making him lash out. Steve narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Watch it, Trashmouth. At least I intend on saving Y/N," he replied.

Richie shot up from his spot, his red eyes focused on Steve as he glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I don't want to save her?" Richie asked. "Wouldn't be surprised," Wheeler muttered, making Richie turn his gaze on the boy. "Of course you have something to say. You always do, don't you?" Richie shot back.

Wheeler stood up from his spot, ignoring Eleven as she tried to grab him and pull him back down. "Mike," Eleven whispered, but the boy shook his head. "No, El. I'm done with this asshole," Wheeler said as he walked over to Richie. Richie was raising an eyebrow at the boy and they both crossed their arms as Wheeler came to a stop in front of him.

"Steve was right. He's actually trying to do someone to help Y/N while you're just sitting there pouting. Y/N needs our fucking help, but you can't get over yourself enough to realize it. So why don't you just shut the hell up for once, go sit back down with your little friends, and let us handle the situation," Wheeler said.

Richie scoffed in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I don't seem to remember when I asked for your opinion? Y/N's just as much my friend as she is yours and you have to be batshit crazy to believe that I don't want to go save her," Richie shot back. "Well I didn't exactly see you rushing to save her when she was trapped behind the gate," Wheeler told him. "Oh, you mean the gate that your girlfriend shut? The gate that, because it was shut, allowed for Y/N to get trapped in the fucking Upside Down? That gate?" Richie asked as he jabbed Wheeler in the chest.

"Touch me again. No, better yet. Disrespect my girl again. See what fucking happens," Wheeler growled. "Mike," Eleven sighed as she got up from her spot. She knew Y/N wouldn't want them arguing like this and it seemed that Eddie realized this too. "Guys. Calm down. We really don't need to-" Eddie began as he walked forward and began to pull Richie away, Eleven doing the same to Wheeler. However, that was when Wheeler delivered the final blow, "You don't deserve, Y/N. None of you losers do."

Eddie froze at that, his hand that was on Richie's arm immediately dropping. He turned his face to look at Wheeler and gave him an unamused look before saying, "You fucking asshole!" Eddie was about to lunge at Wheeler, but Beverly and Ben quickly pulled him back. However, the Party seemed to notice Eddie's small advance and they were all up in a flash and by Wheeler's side, the Losers doing the same for Richie and Eddie. None of them knew how it happened, but before they knew it, the once silent room was filled with arguing as both side took shots at the other.

"Y/N's life has been one hundred times better since she left Hawkins! You ever wonder why she never comes back to visit?"

"I thought the move was the worst thing to ever happen to her, but after meeting you guys I see I stand corrected!"

"Say that shit again. I dare you!"

"Y/N would leave you all in a heartbeat to come back to Hawkins and she wouldn't even look back!"

"You motherfuckers!"

It all became a blur after that, everyone from each side yelling and shoving each other as their pent up emotions poured out of them. They were all hurt and upset about Y/N and this was all they could think of doing at the moment to relieve some of the pain.

As for Bill, he was still sitting in the corner by himself. It was only when the fighting seemed to register in his brain that the boy looked up, a look of complete disbelief on his face as he clutched the jacket harder and stood up from his spot. "Hey!" Bill yelled, but the groups were too red faced and into the fight for them to notice his yelling. Bill huffed in frustration before shoving his way to the middle of the group. He pushed the sides away from each other before yelling at the top of his lungs, "Sit the fuck down!" Hearing those words coming out of the stuttering boy who had been sitting quietly in the corner had them all freeze, each of them realizing what had just happened. Reluctantly, the two groups went to sit back down, but not before glaring at the other side.

Bill scoffed as he stared at the groups and shook his head as tears filled his eyes. "A-A-Are you fucking k-k-kidding me?" he asked, finally getting all eyes to turn on him as he looked at them in disbelief. "We have a life at st-st-stake and you all are bickering like a bunch of f-f-four year o-o-olds!" Bill exclaimed, his eyes looking at the groups in disbelief. "Pull yourselves t-t-together and get up off your asses. We've got a f-f-friend to save!" Everyone's anger seemed to dissolve slightly as they watched the boy, looks of guilt flashing across some of their faces.

Bill shook his head and looked down at the ground as he tried to calm himself down. When he looked back up and began to speak, his voice was clear and strong, not a single piece of evidence of his stutter falling from his lips causing everyone to realize just how serious he was being.

"I know each of you is hurting. I know. Y/N meant a lot to all of us. But you all have to realize just who is in this room because every person in this room plays a major role in Y/N's life," Bill said. He glanced at the Party and gestured towards them. "You guys grew up with her. You helped shape her into the person she was and gave her some of the best experiences of her life. You showed her what friendship was and what family means. She knows what she does today because of you."

Bill then gestured towards the Losers and himself. "We're the ones who have helped her through a tough part of her life. We've protected her with our own lives and have loved her unconditionally. She's been one of our own since day one and she will be until the day she dies," he told them. Bill sighed before saying, "Look, we all care about her and she cares about each of us. We're her friends. We're her family. No one can tell any of us any different."

"That's why we're all upset because not only are we scared of losing her, but we are scared of her forgetting about us in any way. But I promise you that it's not happening for either side. She's always going to be a member of the Party and she's always going to be a part of the Losers' Club. She's like the in-between, the perfect mix of each group. She won't forget her past and she won't forget her present," Bill said as he pointed to each of the groups.

"Y/N has always put our needs in front of her own, but right now, we're going to have to put her above everything else. Each of you is going to have to push aside your differences, your egos, your selfishness, and your attitudes if you want to get Y/N back. Because the only way to get our girl back is if we work together," Bill told them, his eyes flickering over the guilty expressions of the groups as they realized Bill was right about everything he had said.

"How are we going to do that?" Richie asked softly. "Cause I'm with you, Bill. I'm just. . .I don't want to screw up and lose her. We're going to have to make sure everything is perfect and right now the major thing in our way is finding a way to get back to her."

"That's w-w-where the first part of my p-p-plan comes into play," Bill told him. He then turned to look at Eleven who was looking to the ground. As if sending his stare, the girl glanced up. "Eleven, is th-th-there any way you th-th-think you could open the g-g-gate? I meant if you were able to cl-cl-close it, shouldn't you be able t-t-to either make one or o-o-open it?"

"You want her to make a portal that goes to the Upside Down?" Wheeler asked, his tone a little hard as he became protective of his girlfriend. "I can do it," Eleven said with a nod causing Wheeler to look to her. Eleven sighed and glanced at her boyfriend. "Y/N is our friend, Mike. Don't tell me you wouldn't try anything to get back the girl who you've been friends with since the second grade." Wheeler looked down, his expression softening at Eleven's words. Eleven put a hand to the boy's cheek before whispering, "I owe it to her to try." Wheeler nodded slightly and Eleven smiled before letting her eyes flicker over to Bill. Bill gave the girl a small nod in thanks which Eleven quickly returned.

"Bill is right," Beverly called out from where she was sitting beside Ben and Stan. Everyone looked to her and she glanced up from her hands before letting her eyes flicker around the room. "Both groups have to work together. It's the only way we are going to win this thing. It's the only way we are going to get Y/N back."

Bill nodded in agreement before allowing his eyes to flicker over each of the people in the room. His gaze stopped on Steve who was looking at the boy with an unreadable expression on his face. But then Steve was giving him a small nod of approval and thanks and Bill couldn't help but smile as a small wave of relief washed over him.

"All th-th-those in favor of t-t-teaming up to save Y/N?" Bill questioned as he looked around the room. Everyone's hands shot up into the air almost instantly and Bill smiled softly before looking down at the jacket in his hands. He then looked back up and gave the group a nod.

"Let's g-g-go save our g-g-girl then, shall we?"

* * *

Tag List

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[fireblaze5555]

Another quick Kastle short while I am quarantining.

------

Frank found himself beat to hell and tied to a chair, his most recent war had some unseen players that broadsided him. It was unusual for him to be caught unawares but shit happens and here he sat. His face was throbbing and he was pretty sure he had at least one busted rib but he wasn't overly concerned yet. So far, the man who claimed to be the head of this mess had just talked. Endlessly. About his 'empire' and how stupid 'the Punisher' was to have interfered.

Frank hadn't said a word since he woke up, which by his estimation was several hours ago, mostly just looking unimpressed and annoyed, sizing up the room for when he made his move. He was brought out of his contemplation when they set a laptop in front of him on a small table, the screen black. He raised an eyebrow at the man before saying, "First time I've had a complementary movie, very considerate of ya." His voice was rough with disuse and he punctuated it by spitting some blood from his mouth.

The man, Marcetti, that's what he'd said his name was, gave a low chuckle before having a henchman turn the screen on. It only took Frank a second to recognize what he was looking at and suddenly all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.

Karen's apartment. He knew from the angle that the camera had to be in the bookshelf and he wracked his brain, trying to think of when they could have had a chance to plant a camera in her place. Or how they knew she was connected to him, he had been so careful with his Karen Page related indulgence.

Frank didn't say anything but the look he turned on the mob boss had the man taking an involuntary step back. Marcetti recovered quickly though, arrogance lacing his tone, "Are you surprised? Didn't think we would know that the Punisher has a soft spot for tall blonde legal assistants?"

An irrational part of Frank's brain wanted to correct him, she's a P.I., freelance investagative reporter and so much fucking more you piece of shit, but he knew that would only confirm to the man that he had struck a chord. So he ignored him, facing back to the screen and fast tracking his plan to get out of here so he could clear her apartment before she got back. He desperately hoped that she had made plans with Nelson or even Murdock and wouldn't be returning to her apartment any time soon.

His heart sank in his chest when he saw her come into view, carrying a clothes basket. Everything slowed down in that moment and details stood out in striking clarity as fear gripped him. She was wearing that tank top he liked, the one made of soft material that showed off the perfect shape of her breasts. It was shorter in the front so when she stood he could just see her belly button and a strip of taut pale skin on her abdomen. It was loose and flowy, granting him easy access to aforementioned breasts. She had on yoga pants, her favorite pair, and her hair was braided as it often was when she was cleaning the apartment. Karen settled on to the couch to start sorting laundry, he saw her haphazardly throwing her socks together before she came upon a pair of his. His heart ached as he saw her roll them the way he did on the occasion he was there to help with domestic tasks.

Frank's world sped back into focus as Marcetti clicked his tongue appreciatively, "My, my, you do have good taste Mr. Castle. She is lovely. I'm glad I ordered them to bring her here, I think she will be great fun to keep around once you are dead." Frank's whole body jerked towards the man involuntarily. The mob boss flinched trying to hide it by motioning for a lackey to land a few punches to Frank's snarling face. His eyes returned to Marchetti after every blow, unyielding.

"You put your hands on her and I will make sure you die as slowly and painfully as possible." His voice was low and full of promise.

"You aren't really in any position for threats. So just sit back and enjoy." His smile made Frank want to make the man swallow his own teeth. He was about to tell him as much when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Karen tense up and turn to the direction of her front door. A second later she was on her feet with the coffee table between her and two men.

Frank's breathing was labored as he watched them slowly approach her. Dread, panic and guilt churned in his chest, he was going to have to watch someone else he loved die, once again not being able to do a goddamn thing about it. When the first blow landed on her face he let out a bellowing yell that had everyone in the room step back. Frank pulled on his restraints, fighting to get his emotions under control. He had to get out of here, now, he may still be able to get there in time.

He froze though, when he saw Karen lash out with a vicious kick to the side of one of the mens' knees, collapsing it sideways. The other grabbed her by the hair but she instantly dropped to the ground causing him to lurch forward which brought him in range for her to snap her head back into his nose. As he clutched at his bloodied face, Karen stood quickly, swaying slightly, Frank was sure that the blow to the back of her head was disorienting. In a matter of seconds she had her .380 in her hand steadily staring the man down.

Pride swelled in Frank's chest, his panic ebbing only slightly, as he watched her beautiful mouth giving the man hell. Her hands were steady and her form was perfect. If he wasn't so terrified for her safety, Frank would be incredibly turned on. He knew she was telling her assailant to get on the ground, she would shoot if she had to but she would avoid it if she could. When the man lunged for her, she squeezed the trigger, two to the chest. The man who's knee had been collapsed managed to get to his feet, taking a swipe at her while she was distracted. It was his last mistake because she turned and put two bullets in him as well.

Frank heard the men cursing around him and he gave a small laugh, despite himself. People were always underestimating his girl. On the screen, he saw Karen process for a moment, his heart giving a lurch when he saw her cover her mouth and let out a sob. But then she was moving, grabbing her bag and a jacket and heading in the direction of the door, no doubt headed to the safe house, just as they planned for situations like this.

He forced his face into a smug mask, turning from the screen to meet the eyes of his captor. The man was seething, still staring at the screen where two of his men lay dead. When Marcetti did turn his eyes back to Frank he snapped his fingers at two men to his right, they instantly stepped forward, "Go find that bitch. Do what you have to, just get her here, alive." He waved them off sharply before kicking the small table and laptop out of the way to stand in front of Frank. It was just him and two other men in the room with Frank now.

Frank shook his head slowly, a corner of his mouth tipping up smugly, "You probably should have done more research on her. I mean, it's really never good to underestimate a woman, especially not one with such good aim." He forced his voice to stay even in the hopes it would further rile Marcetti. He was half sick with worry, at the very best Karen was going to be frantic when she couldn't get a hold of him, at worst she could be attacked again. So he needed his captor to make a mistake soon.

Thankfully it only took another minute. Marcetti stepped right in front of him bending to speak right into Frank's face. Perfect. Before he could get a word out Frank headbutted him as hard as he could in the face. Frank had taken a lot of blows to the head so he only saw stars for a split second, recovering much faster than his victim. Taking a page out of Karen's book he lashed out with a powerful kick to the man's knee, collapsing it backwards. There was a flurry of movement at that point, the two remaining men hurrying to pull their boss back out of reach. It was enough time to allow him to finish slipping the zip ties around his wrist completely off.

When one of the lackeys pulled back to punch him, Frank was ready, quickly breaking his arm and taking the firearm at his waist. The man was dead before he hit the ground, the second guard had barely gotten his hand to his waist before he was also felled by a headshot. Frank rolled his shoulders, ignoring the twinge in his side, checking the magazine in the stolen gun. Four bullets left.

Marcetti had started to crawl away but Frank kicked him over onto his back, promptly putting a bullet in the remaining good knee. He let him scream for a second before Frank put another in his right shoulder and another in his left shoulder. Stepping over the prone man, Frank leaned down, grabbing him roughly by the jaw, forcing him to stop screaming.

Frank let all of the pent up rage show on his face for the first time since he saw Karen disappear from the camera feed. His voice was deadly quiet when he started to speak, "You're lucky, that she got away," he shook the man's face as his weeping got louder, "Shut up. Like I was saying, you're lucky she got away because now I don't have time to make this as painful as I wanted. You really shouldn't have messed with my girl, asshole."

Frank stood to his full height, giving Marcetti a second to start begging before putting the last bullet in his head. The beast in Frank wanted to make him suffer. He could have spent hours dragging out the man's death for bringing Karen into it but he had to make sure she was okay. She was his priority now.

Grabbing the gun off of the second man he shot he held it at the ready as he moved through the building. Thankfully it was abandoned and he only had one more person to shoot before he was clear of the building and striding as quickly as he could towards a main road. He wasn't sure where he was so the likelihood of him being anywhere near where he left his van was slim to none.

Luckily his captors had not stolen the money in his pocket so he was able to hail a cab to get him within a couple of blocks of the designated safehouse. Thank God for NYC cabbies, there wasn't a word or even a backwards glance as Frank climbed in, beat to shit and covered mostly in his own blood.

He was planning as he stepped out of the cab, where to go next if he didn't find Karen in the safehouse? Maybe she would have gone to Murdock's place. If she hadn't, maybe Murdock could help him locate her faster. His busted rib was giving him hell for the pace he was setting but he needed to know she was safe.

It seemed like an eternity but Frank finally came to a halt in front of a rusted door at the back of an apparent abandoned warehouse. He had been watching his surroundings and didn't have a tail so he punched in the code to the door, sliding in quickly. Out of precaution he had a gun ready in his hand before calling out, "Karen? It's me."

For a moment he didn't hear anything and his heart began to sink in his chest. Then he heard the subtle click of a safety being clicked into place and she was rounding the corner that served as a makeshift kitchen. He was lightheaded with the relief that flooded him, she was here, she was safe.

Before he could process more she was right in front of him, her slender hands on either side of his jaw as she looked him up and down, "Frank what happened? Are you okay?" Her hands were roaming over him, searching for injury, "I tried calling you a dozen times and you didn't pick up, I didn't know where you were. These men...they.." She let out a hiccoughing sob that had him instantly pulling her to his chest, murmuring comforting words into her hair. She recovered quickly though, wiping the tears away harshly and pulling him towards the first aid kit.

"Are you okay, you're not hurt anywhere are you?" This time he was the one running hands over her, voice rough, eyes resting on the bruise that was blossoming on her cheek.

"No, no I'm fine." She rested her hand over his on her cheek before steering him to sit down. Frank closed his eyes as she ran a cool cloth over his face, wiping away the blood. Her voice was quiet as she worked. "How did you know I was here?"

His eyes opened quickly, rage and panic suddenly burning hotly through him again, remembering watching the men attack her, remembering his own helplessness to stop it. Without thinking Frank brought his hands up to cradle her face, to reassure himself that she was here, that he wouldn't wake up to find she had been taken from him too.

As if she could sense his rising panic, which she probably could, he could never hide anything from her, Karen wrapped her hands around his wrists and gave them a reassuring squeeze. She pressed a soft kiss into his palm before she continued to slowly wipe the blood from his face. She knew he would answer when he was ready.

Frank grounded himself by watching her eyes as she worked. Every once in a while her clear blue gaze would meet his and he would see them crinkle reassuringly at the edges before she focused on her task again.

Finally, when he felt most of the remaining adrenaline drain out of him, he spoke slowly, his voice full of gravel, "This last mission, I almost had them all wiped out but I missed something and they blindsided me. I woke up and they had me tied to a chair, giving me the usual bad guy speech, ya know?" She gave an amused huff but he saw the worry creep into her visage as she cleaned out a gash she found in his scalp.

"They pulled out a computer that had a live feed to a camera into your living room."

Karen froze, meeting his eyes quickly, "You saw them attack me." It wasn't a question, she was always one step ahead of him it seemed.

Frank gave a slow nod, feeling sick as he remembered watching the men advance on her. How she almost died because of him. Again. He attempted to shutter his expression, he needed to create distance between them, he had to push her away. He knew that this would happen and yet he kept selfishly pushing himself into her life. He was going to get her killed. He-

He let out a growling curse as Karen abruptly and none too gently pressed gauze covered in alcohol to the cut in his scalp. His gaze returned to hers sharply and she was waiting for it because her expression was defiant.

"I already know everything you are thinking Frank and we've been through all of it before. You're not pushing me away, I'm not going anywhere and so help me God if you even THINK about telling me 'I'm not safe' or 'I'm not good for you Karen' I will beat you within an inch of your life. Do you understand me Castle? Yes, people came after me. Yes, they did it to get to you. But they didn't get me, I got them."

Her voice was strong but he felt the small tremor in her fingers as she began applying the butterfly sutures to his head. Gently, he grabbed her hand, pulling it down to press a lingering kiss to her knuckles before he replied, "I know you can handle yourself, I've seen you do it more than once and I was damn proud of what you did today. But Karen," he leaned down to catch her eye again when she looked away, "You shouldn't have to. You're good. I'm tainting your life, forcing you to make decisions you shouldn't have to make."

She stared at him for a moment before slowly shaking her head, like she thought he was incredibly dense, before she stepped in to stand between his knees. Her hands came to rest on either side of his strong jaw as she tilted his head up to look at her. Slowly she lowered her head and gave him a soft lingering kiss, one that made his chest swell and his arms ache to wrap around her. A kiss that made him realize just how foolish it was of him to think he could walk away now, after she was so deeply a part of him.

After another slow press of her lips, this time to his forehead she spoke softly but with all the authority of the goddess she was, her words full of steel, "I would make that decision over and over again if it meant I got to keep you in my life. We're a unit now Frank. We deal with things together. I don't always agree with the wars you wage but I will always be there once you are done fighting them. I'm not going anywhere. I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it."

Frank stared up at her, both wanting to take her to the bed in the back and show her with his hands and mouth how much he worships her and wanting to shake her until she sees sense and runs in the opposite direction as him. Though the latter would tear him to pieces.

He settled for a happy medium, once he was patched up, he had Micro set up focused surveillance on this safehouse and then called in a favor to have the two bodies removed from Karen's apartment as discreetly as possible before settling them both into bed and tucking her securely against his chest. She was out almost instantly, her fingers securely wrapped around his as she slept.

Frank was a monster, he killed people, deserving people, but it was killing nonetheless. He constantly made Karen worry and he most certainly didn't deserve her love. But as he watched her sleeping in his arms, her blatant trust and care for him evident in the way she gripped his hand, he realized he was also a man. A man that needed Karen Page as much as the Punisher needed his war. He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, drifting off as well. Maybe one day he will be strong enough to push Karen Page out of his life for her own protection...but he doubted it.

[shygirl-00]

Winter Song Chapter 1: Haunting memories

Song: Control by Halsey; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzoNRAX_SOw

Warnings: Nightmares, mentions of torture, human experimenting, mind-wiping, mentions of murder, blood, some soft fluff, akward conversations.

Disclaimer: I don't own the song or the pictures/GIFs. Credits to the original owners.

They send me away to find them a fortune A chest filled with diamonds and gold The house was awake, the shadows and monsters The hallways, they echoed and groaned

The girl hugged her knees as she stared at the grey wall across the room. She didn't feel the cold of the floor anymore.

How long had she been sitting here in her dark cell? After the numerous times she was thrown in here, she didn't bother anymore to count the endless hours she had spent in isolation. Just as she didn't bother to try to get comfy on the thin mattress she had to get some sleep on. She was lucky one of the rusty springs of the bedframe hadn't yet poked into her skin during her few hours of sleep.

I sat alone, in bed till the morning I'm crying, "They're coming for me" And I tried to hold these secrets inside me My mind's like a deadly disease

Crazy as it sounded, these hours in her cell were the only moments of peace that she knew in this hell hole. In here she could at least try to forget all the torture of needles, shocks and burns she had received on a day.

Here she could be alone with her thoughts for a moment before that door would be slammed open and those Hydra soldiers would drag her out again for another round of torture and experimenting.

I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones

Hydra... The organisation that had destroyed her life. They had killed her parents and taken her, had dragged her single-handedly into a world of pain and misery. And every time she thought it couldn't get any worse, the next time Hydra would top it. And that over, and over, and over again.

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy God damn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

Even when she was allowed to have a moment of rest, she could barely close her eyes or the nightmares would already start. The things they made her do, the killing, the spilling of innocent blood...every night she could hear the screams of her victims and when she would wake up, she could still see the blood on her hands, she would smell the smoke of guns. After that she would always taste familiar sourness in her mouth before she would throw up.

I paced around for hours on empty I jumped at the slightest of sounds And I couldn't stand the person inside me I turned all the mirrors around

She had dreamed of escaping. Had even tried it a couple of times, but that only resulted in being captured and being more tortured and experimented on. So it stayed with dreaming. She had heard of the soldier with the metal arm. The man who managed to finally escape Hydra after years. The Winter Soldier...best friend of Captain America...James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes...

I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones

(Y/n)… Her own name. (Y/n) (L/n)… Hydra had even tried to take that away from her. Her future was already stolen from her, her memories were scrambled, but for some miraculous reason she had been able to cling onto her name. Every time they put her in that torture chair, they had hoped that she would finally permanently forget it and every single time she would disappoint them.

After a while she would remember her name again. Her name was (Y/n) (L/n), no matter how many times thy would fry her brain in that chair, her name. was. (Y/n) (L/n).

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy God damn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

(Y/n) jumped when the door was suddenly slammed open and a group of five Hydra soldiers barged in, lead by Brock Rumlow. Since the death of Alexander Pierce, by the hands of SHIELD, he sort of became in charge of Hydra on the matter of physical missions and attacks, while Helmut Zemo became in charge of the tests and experiments. Both monsters, not afraid to tear people apart, mentally and physically, to get what they wanted. (Y/n)'s tormentors...

“Good morning Asset.” Rumlow sneered as he stared down at her. Asset...that's all she was to them. A puppet, and Hydra was her puppet master. (Y/n) didn't answer him and looked away.

“I said…”, Rumlow pulled her up by her hair, “good morning. Have you never heard of manners?!” He spat in her face as he threw her back onto the floor in front of the feet of the soldiers who manhandled her to her feet again and held onto her.

People would raise an eyebrow at the sight that five soldiers were holding a girl, but thanks to the experiments, (Y/n)'s strength had majorly increased. The last time she was escorted by only two guards, they eventually had to tranquilize her because she almost escaped them and even now sometimes five guards struggled to hold her down.

Rumlow nods at the guards. “You know where to.” Immediately, (Y/n) was dragged out of her cell into the hallway. She already braced herself for what was to come. Most likely more experimenting and serums being injected into her...

I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head They beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead And I've grown familiar with villains that live in my head They beg me to write them so I'll never die when I'm dead

But...they went another way. And she knew which way this was...one she dreaded more than any other room in this whole facility... She tried to control her breathing that caught in her throat as she was dragged through the halls.

I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones

As they entered that dreaded room, (Y/n) was met by the familliar sight of several scientists and assistants walking around the room, working on who knows what kind of projects. But the thing that she was most afraid of stood in the middle of the room: that godforsaken chair that ripped the memories from everyone who was forced into that thing.

And next to that horror device stood her other tormentor, Helmut Zemo.

"Why hello there, malyshka. I hope you slept well.” Zemo cooed as he petted (Y/n)’s cheek. She jerked her head away as she scowled at him. "Tsk tsk, as hostile as ever, are we?” Zemo tutted as he grabbed her chin so she was forced to look at him. He shook his head.

“Well, malyshka, if today is a success, we don't have to deal with that attitude anymore.” He grinned at her as he walked away to retrieve something from the table next to the chair.

“Wh-what do you mean by that?” (Y/n) spoke as she tried to not let her voice tremble too much. She felt her blood turn into ice as Zemo turned, seeing what he had retrieved from the table; a black book with a red star stamped on it. Her 'programming book’ as some liked to call it. Whenever that book came out, she prepared for the worst.

Zemo chuckled when he saw (Y/n)'s scared face. “Oh do not worry, malyshka. I thought these out very carefully.” He held an amused grin as he watched confusion mixed with fear etched onto the girl's face. “And it will not be that difficult. They're just...ten...simple...words…”

All colour disappeared from (Y/n)'s face. Ten words...ten...words...they were...they were going to… Her train of thought was cut short by a short scentence that left Zemo's lips that left her freaked out.

“Prep her.”

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy God damn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

Never before, in her whole life, did (Y/n) struggle more than at that moment. She screamed, kicked, thrashed, she tried everything she could as the guards hauled her into the chair and began strapping her down. Several scientists began starting up the machine that would soon enough rip her memories from her.

(Y/n) clamped her mouth shut as they approached with the mouth guard. But one firm slam of Rumlow's fist in her stomach left her coughing and gasping for breath, which was used to shove the mouth guard into her mouth. Last but not least, they strapped her head down.

(Y/n)'s breathing came out ragged as her chest heaved up and down. Her eyes flashed from one side to another as she watched the people surrounding her. Then an all too familiar whirring sound filled her ears. Zemo looked down at her.

"Just relax, malyshka. All you need to do is listen...” He purred as the cold metal clamped around her head. The whirring sound became louder and louder. She saw Zemo's mouth move as he read from the book. She knew her brain would process the words as anything else was ripped from her. They would continue this until worked.

But the only thing she heard, a sound that filled the whole room and echoed through the hallways, was her own screaming...

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy God damn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

Gasping for air, (Y/n) shot up in bed. Sweat was beading her forehead as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to get her breathing under control. She took shaky breaths as she rubbed her face. Giving herself a moment to calm down, she laid back down on her bed.

The day they implanted her triggerwords...that was the most recurring nightmare that had been haunting her night and night again. Even now, six months after The Avengers had saved her from that hell hole, it felt like yesterday that they put those damn words into her brain.

(Y/n) looked at the time that was being projected on the wall. 04:00 am. With a sigh (Y/n) kicked the sheets off of her and sat up, sliding her feet into her slippers. She knew that, even if she tried, she would not be able to fall asleep again. She wrapped her blanket around herself and quietly shuffled out of her room, on her way to the living room in The Avengers tower.

Ever since they rescued her, (Y/n) had been living with The Avengers at their compound. When they found out that, after they rescued her, she didn't have any family she could turn to, they took her in and they practically became her family. And she couldn't be more grateful for them.

Steve Rogers, the Captain himself, had been acting like a father or a big brother to her. He was usually the person that held her when she was having a panic or anxiety attack, she could cry on his shoulder when the nightmares became too much. He would be one of the first people to notice if something was wrong.

Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, together with Bruce Banner, were like the “nerd-uncles” you didn't know you needed. While Tony loved to tease her sometimes, he had a huge soft spot for the girl and he would be there for her whenever she needed him. Pepper Pots, his girlfriend, would scold him often if he teased (Y/n) too much to her liking. She was like the sweetest aunt ever. Bruce regularly checked on her physical but mostly her mental health and treated her wounds if need be.

If (Y/n) needed a hug, she could always count on Thor. Being the God of Thunder or not, he loved nothing more than picking her up and giving her a good hug, mostly one in which she could shield herself from the world for a moment.

Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, two women who you didn’t want to get angry, became like big sisters for (Y/n). They and Pepper would chase the boys out of the living room so that they could have a girl's night every once in a while. They would just chat and laugh together every once in a while, but they also trained her in order to get her powers under control.

Pietro Maximoff and Clint Barton, those two were like the chaos cousins whose goal it was to cheer (Y/n) up. Pietro loved to carry her around and then run all over the place until both of them were out of breath, him from running, she because her breath was taken away by the speed. Clint was more serious than Pietro, but he was often in for a prank or two.

Then Sam, the uncle who was sometimes teasing her even more than Tony would, but he would never let anything happen to her. Eventhough him and Tony would not always see eye to eye, they would once in a while tease (Y/n) together about her feelings towards a certain super soldier with a metal arm...

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes... even after six months, (Y/n) still didn't know what Bucky was to her. They were friends, that was for sure, but she would be lying to herself if she hadn't wished that they could be more than that, more than once. But she would be rather damned than to admit that.

Not only would Sam and Tony not let her hear the end of it, but she would never forgive herself if she destroyed Bucky's friendship with her by admitting what she really felt for him. After all, Bucky had had enough on his plate with his own history with Hydra; he didn't need her damaged life also on his shoulders.

Little did she know, that a certain, metal-armed, super soldier had the same thoughts about himself, and had the same feelings for her...

Damaged. That's what (Y/n) called herself. Improved, that's what Hydra had called her. Well, for their sick games perhaps. Now, (Y/n) was scared of herself. She had seen the file that The Avengers managed to take with them. It stood there, everything Hydra had put in her and what she was now:

(Y/n) (L/n), Asset 107. Enhanced strength, speed, durability and flexibility. Powers of remnants of Mind Stone present. Trained fighter with guns, knives and hand to hand combat.

And there they were, those cursed triggerwords. Steve had quickly taken the file out of her hands. Her nightmares were already enough torment. And he had a point.

Quietly, (Y/n) opened the door to the living room and slid inside. She quickly popped into the kitchen to get a glass out of the cabinet and fill it with water. She took some sips to at least get the adrenaline, that her nightmares always gave her, down. She sighed. Would she ever be able to get rid of those horrific nightmares…? She turned to go sit on the couch.

“Can't sleep either?” A voice called out. (Y/n) jumped and shrieked, letting go of the glass in the process. A quick, silver hand swooped the glass out of the air, catching it before it would break on the ground. "Careful there, we don't want any accidents.” (Y/n) looked up to meet a pair of ocean blue eyes looking into her (e/c) ones.

"You okay?” Bucky Barnes put the glass back on the counter and raised an eyebrow when the girl in front of him stayed quiet. "Hello, Earth to (Y/n)?” He waved with his flesh hand in front of her face.

(Y/n) blinked. “Uh...yeah, fine! I mean...ahum...yeah I'm okay.” She quickly took her glass and went to the living room with it. This was what she always feared. Making herself look like a complete fool in front of Bucky. And now she had just done that...great.

With a soft sigh, she flopped onto the couch, tugging her blanket closer around herself, sipping on her water. She eyed Bucky as he came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee. When he saw her looking, he gave her a soft smile. (Y/n)'s cheeks coloured bright red. She quickly hid her face behind her glass of water, hoping Bucky hadn’t seen it.

But of course Bucky had seen it. With his enhanced abilities and his training as a spy, he could pick up the smallest details.

He had only one issue; he was never taught how to work with feelings for another person. Sure he knew about friendship and such, his long lasting friendship with Steve never seemed to falter, but no, they never told him how to approach a person when the idea of more than friendship came up. Yes, in his old days, he had flirted with some dames, but that was all it was, flirting, not, Bucky gulped at the tought, love.

“Bucky…?” He was awakened from his thoughts when a soft voice called his name.

He looked up and saw that (Y/n) was looking at him again. "W-what? You said something?” She smiled softly. “I asked why you couldn't sleep. Since you said can't sleep either.”

Bucky let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, taking a sip of his coffee. “Oh, ehm...nightmares doll...same old I know-” Bucky cut himself short when he saw (Y/n)'s face fall. Then he realised he had called her doll. Shit, did she not like that? It just slipped out...

“Well I'm at least not the only one…” she mumbled as she sipped from her water. Wait...she wasn't talking about the word doll, was she?

Bucky could almost hit himself when he realised. She had nightmares, just like him. Logical, she had been in Hydra's hands, just like him. And she had also been damaged...just like him… Bucky clenched his flesh hand around his coffee cup while his metal one squeezed a pillow.

Damaged like him...Bucky immediately pushed his personal feelings away and focused on her. “You have them too, huh?” She nodded. "One recurs more than others though. The one in which they…they implant...” her voice faltered.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to…” Bucky said as he looked at her. Heck, he knew the feeling all too well, when people wanted to know exactly what was going inside his head, wanted him to repeat his nightmares over and over again. Man, how many times he had wanted to bash someones nose in for that...

"How do you do it?” (Y/n) suddenly asked. Bucky looked up. “Hm? Do what d-?” he quickly swallowed the last word.

“Cope with them...the nightmares.” (Y/n) looked at him over the edge of her glass. Bucky sighed.

“I don't know. I just...do it. I do stuff and try to get as much sleep as I can. Steve often helps me by waking me up if he hears me screaming.”

(Y/n) smiled softly. Steve had often done that with her as well. He would hold her as she sobbed into his pyjama-shirt, until she had calmed down enough to talk.

“Yeah...yeah I know...he does that for me as well. Poor guy must have had some rough nights with us heh…” she smiled a small smile that got a bit bigger when she heard Bucky chuckle. His chuckle was like music to her ears...God she had it bad for him...

“Well yeah, he has always been a momma's boy, but I think he missed the memo that that doesn't mean you need to act like a mom.” Bucky commented dryly, receiving a giggle from the girl across from him on the couch. Her smile made him involuntarily blush...man was he head over heels for her.

"Maybe his head is still stuck in the 40's?” (Y/n) chuckled, making Bucky laugh out loud. “Maybe you have a point there, (Y/n).” He still refrained himself from calling her doll.

And that's how the rest of the team found them hours later when they came down to get some breakfast, Bucky and (Y/n) talking on the couch and laughing at each other's remarks.

“Hey Buckaroo, having a conversation with the girlfriend?” Sam commented as he gave Bucky a pat on his shoulder. Bucky swatted him away. “Shut up, Birdbrain!”

Steve focused on (Y/n). “Nightmare again?” he asked. She nodded, sad. “Same one again.” Steve sighed.

“Why didn't you come to me? I told you, you could always wake me up when you need me.” (Y/n) looked down at her lap. “I don't want to be a bother, Steve...”

Before Steve could answer, Sam commented: “She had the perfect talking partner right here!” Immediately after that he had to duck because Bucky had thrown his coffee cup at him.

“You know, just because I can afford it, doesn't mean you have to destroy it, Tin Man!” Tony remarked from the kitchen as the breaking of ceramics could be heard.

"Come on you two, get dressed otherwise no breakfast for you.” Natasha remarked as she ushered Bucky and (Y/n) out of the room. Steve followed Bucky while she followed (Y/n).

“Sam did have a point though, you two talking is a nice sight.” Natasha remarked, sitting on (Y/n)'s bed as the latter was changing behind the doors of her huge closet (thanks Tony).

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Nat.” (Y/n) commented as she threw her pyjamas on her bed and put on jeans and a blouse.

“Just saying, you two would make a cute couple.” Natasha remarked. She received a pair of socks against her head as an answer.

“Come on punk, just drop it allright?” Bucky huffed as he stuck his head through the opening of his maroon coloured sweater. Steve leaned against the doorpost.

"Buck, why are you so hesitant about it? You like each other's company, that's a good start.” "Shut it Steve, don't pretend you're now all-knowing about relationships!” Bucky commented as he folded his pyjamas and put them under his pillow.

“Then tell me what the issue is, Buck!” Steve sighed, eyeing his childhood best friend. The brunette sighed and sat down on the bed. 

"Listen up punk...”

"Nat, I know you mean well, but even if there is a truth behind your remarks...”

“...even if you somehow miraculously have found the answer to helping others with relationships…”

“...why would (s)he want a damaged person like me?”

Holy macaroni, first chapter finally done! I'm nervous as all heck because I love Bucky/Sebastian Stan so much I want to do him justice. Plus I hope that you liked it as well. If anyone wants to be tagged, just let me know. Thanks for reading, lots of love! ❤️

Translation: Malyshka = little girl

Taglist: @jtargaryen18, @sherlocked-bitch, @on-your-left-birdie, @tcc-gizmachine

[im-actually-ok]

In Pursuit

Word Count: 1677

Fandom: Be More Chill

Summary:(I just now realized that I haven't been putting any summaries on my fics, so, here goes) Christine is a detective looking into a case that runs a lot closer to home than anyone would have suspected,

Ships: Past Jeremy X Christine

Warnings: Guns, Blood, Burn Scar Mention, Death, Questioning (Let me know if I missed anything)

This fic is for the Be More Chill Quarantine Challenge run by @bmc-gift-exchange and these are the prompts for this fic.

Enjoy! ~~~

“The criminals were last seen robbing the bank off 32nd Street. Not much money was stolen, only 12,000 dollars and an old map that had been kept in the vaults, police are investigating the crime scene but as always, no leads have been found.” I laugh after reading the article aloud. Not quite a laugh of joy or amusement, but more of a laugh of frustration.

“A map? They stole a map, Kelly! A map! What do they want!?” I throw the newspaper down onto the table and Kelly sighs. She’s been my partner for years now.

She places a hand on my shoulder and I huff out a sigh as she says, “Calm down, Christine. We’re a pair of great detectives, we’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, I know,” I look down, “But what could they possibly be looking for, they're all over the place,” I move across the room to the file cabinet and start looking through them until I come across the file I'm looking for.

I pull out the file labeled “Crime Scene” and place it down onto the table, “But if we can figure out where the map they stole leads to we might be able to beat them there.”

Kelly smiles and grabs the file off the table saying, “Atta girl!” before flipping through the papers inside. She stops on a page and without looking up, says, “The owner of the vault from which the map was stolen was a man named Richard Goranski.”

“Wait,” she looks up at me, “Richard Goranski, why do I know that name?” I bite my lip and think, silence filling the air before snapping and looking back to Kelly, “Wait! I think I went to High School with him! Is there a photo?” I rush to her side. In the file, along with the papers lies a photo of a rather short muscular man with blonde hair and burn scars running up the side of his body.

“Yeah! That's him!” I smile at Kelly.

She laughs and says, “I guess we’ll be paying old Rich a visit then?”

~~~

I knock on the door. It's old and worn with light blue paint peeling off in several places. T can hear the shuffle inside the apartment as someone makes their way to the door and the sound of several locks being undone before it swings open to reveal a very confused, small man.

I take a breath in, “Hello sir, would this happen to be the home of one Richard Goranski?”

He looks at me, then at Kelly, then at me again, “Yes, that's me. Can I help you?”

Kelly pulls out her badge and states, “Officer Jamison, NJSP. My partner and I would like to ask you some questions concerning a map of yours that was recently stolen.”

He scrunches his nose and frowns a bit, still somewhat hiding behind his door, obviously uncomfortable, “Yes, of course, come in.”

He pulls the old blue door open to reveal an apartment to match. The wallpaper peeling and cracked in places, boxes strewn about the rooms, furniture partially unpacked. He leads us to a table and pulls up two more chairs saying, “Sorry, I'm kind of between places right now so I haven't really unpacked,” He finally sits down in the chair across from us and asks, “So, what kind of questions did you have in mind?”

I place my folded hands down on the table before asking, “We were wondering about the map that was stolen from your vault, about where it led and why it is valuable enough to be stolen.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair before answering, “I'm not actually sure.”

I eye him, “You’re not sure?”

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away, “A friend of mine in highschool gave it to me to hold on to, said that he would come to get it back one day. I called him the day it was stolen, but he never responded, and I've been trying to reach him but it's like he disappeared.”

I squint and tilt my head ever so slightly, “And the name of this friend is?”

It seems he's trying to make eye contact with everything in the room but me, “His name was Jeremy --”

I cut him off, “Jeremy Heere?”

He looks taken aback, “Yes, how did you know that?”

I look him right in the eyes and say, “Rich, it's me, Christine? From highschool? I was Jeremy’s girlfriend for a while, remember?”

His eyes lighten up a bit and he smiles, “Christine Canigula? Is it really you? Wow! I never thought I’d see you again! How have you been?”

I laugh, “Well we’ll have to catch up later, I'm afraid we still have some important matters we need to discuss.”

He shakes his head a bit, “Right, right, sorry. It's just crazy seeing you after all these years. Anywho, what else do you need to know about that map? I don't know much about it but I want to be able to help as much as I can,” He sits a little more comfortable now, sitting with a small smile on his face.

Kelly jumps in, “Do you happen to know where we could find Jeremy?”

Rich pulls out his phone and a notepad, he looks at something and scribbles something down before ripping off the piece of paper and handing it to Kelly, “This is the last address I have for him, and here’s his and my phone number, in case you need to contact him or me again.”

Kelly and I stand, “Thank you Rich, we’ll be sure to give you a call if we find anything.”

He smiles at me and says, “Anytime! Be sure to call me up at some point so we can catch up, ok? It was great seeing you again!”

I wave goodbye as We walk out the door.

~~~

We arrive at the address Rich left us. The place looks worse than Rich’s, the bushes were overgrown, the paint on the house was faded and the grass is up to our calves. I knock on the door, but this time, there is no response, no shuffle, no click of unlocking locks. Nothing.

I frown and try at the door knob, but it's locked. I call, “NJSP! Open up!” but still, no response.

Kelly sighes and turns to leave, but that's when something catches my eye. One of the windows in the front of his house is broken with blood dripping from the glass.

“Um, Kelly? You might wanna see this.”

Kelly turns back to me and when she sees it, her eyes go wide. She nods at me and we pull out our guns. I force the door open and Kelly follows me in. I gasp when I see bloody footprints on the ground, leading further into the house.

We move silently, following the footprints. They lead into the kitchen, where they stop at a body.

I drop my gun and run towards the body. Blood pooling under it, I flip it over to see who it is. Hoping, praying it's not who I think it is.

Then I see his face. Jeremy’s face. He’s pale, gunshot wounds adorning his chest. I can feel the hot tears roll down my cheeks as I hold him in my arms.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper and begin to back away, my hands, stained with blood, “I'm so sorry.”

Kelly grabs my shoulder and whispers to me, “I'm so sorry, Christine.”

I don't watch as she examines the body, or as she searches the house. She comes back to me, tells me that she found a clue. She knows where the map had led to before Jeremy was killed and it was stolen from him after he stole it from the bank.

I barely remember what she said, because none of it made any sense. WHy would Jeremy steal it? Who stole it from him? How did she know where to go? Everything looked, sounded, and felt far away, like I was slipping away.

Next thing I know, I'm being ushered out of the police cruiser into an empty run down lot of some kind. Dead plants sit in planters, empty stores line the walls, debris is everywhere, and a man is standing on the other side of the lot, facing us.

We make our way towards him. He’s wearing a black hoodie with the hood up to cover his eyes. As we approach, I see Kelly pull out a small duffle bag. WHere in the world did she get that?!

She says to the man, “We’re here to make a deal,” She unzips and holds out the duffle bag out to him. It's filled with money. He starts to move closer to us, that's when we hear it. The sound of a gun clicking behind us.

“No, they're not.”

But I recognize that voice, “Micheal?” I ask.

There's a silence, until the voice speaks, “Hello again, Christine.”

I turn to face him, he smiles, “Micheal, what are you doing here?!” I plea.

His smile turns to a grimace, “Finishing what Jeremy couldn't.”

“What is going on here?!” Kelly practically yells.

Micheal sighs, “After everything on highschool, Jeremy had squips leftover and didn't know what to do,” Squips, of course, “So, I helped him hide them, just in case. Somehow, Jeremy got his Squip back and I got one myself, and I was ready to bust out the map to find the rest of them, to give them to the world. But something was wrong with Jeremy, he started to fight it, so I had to stop him from stopping me,” Tears form in my eyes again, “And now that I think about it, didn't you have a squip to, Christine?

“Micheal, NO!--”

“Up, up, down, down, left, right, A.”

The burning sensation filled my head, I fell to my knees, I could hear Kelly yelling, but it seemed like everything else was gone. I was gone. The squip is in control now.

~~~

I hope you enjoyed that! Bye!

@bmc-gift-exchange

[veliseraptor]

Your fanfic my body's made of shell is amazing and I've read it so many times it's not funny. I was wondering if you'd ever consider doing a version from Thor's POV? I'd love to know what was going through his mind while finding out that Loki is still alive.

hey here have a completely unedited mess!!! 

better to love than to have and to hold, companion to this fic, thor pov, 3.4k because I am incapable of self control

Thanos was gone.

And with him, half the universe.

In Wakanda, Thor folded to the ground as the last thing that had been holding him up was ripped away, and he was left only with the crushing weight of his losses.

**

None of them really knew what to do.

There was the general feeling that they ought to do something, but what that could be - it was too big, Thor thought. Too much. They hadn't stopped Thanos. They didn't know where he was, to avenge the lives he'd stolen. They were frozen. They were drowning.

Three days after Thanos had achieved his goal and cracked the world in two, and Thor sat at the top of Warrior Falls, staring at nothing and wondering, a little, why he had bothered to rise this morning at all.

The kimoyo beads on his wrist - a gift Thor had done nothing to deserve - lit up with a message. It was the newly crowned queen; so young, and already carrying so much grief, Thor thought unhappily.

"Yes," he said, to indicate he was listening.

"Thor," Shuri said, and in that one word Thor heard her tension and unease and was immediately on alert. "Come to my lab. Right away."

"What," Thor started to ask, but she had already closed the connection, looking over her shoulder at something behind her. Thor didn't really need more information than that, though. He didn't know the princess well, but she wouldn't react like this, or contact him so urgently, for a trifle. Which meant that there was trouble. A part of Thor wondered wearily how much more trouble there could be, but he knew that the truth was 'always more.' If his life of late had shown him anything, it was that.

He made his way back down from the mountains toward Birnin Zana (empty, so empty, and too quiet) and from there to Shuri's lab. He'd been there before, in the early aftermath, when they'd been trying desperately to perform triage on a universe that was bleeding out. He'd been there since. He and the young princess had both lost a brother. And she now knew the burden of ruling a decimated people. Thor only wished there was more solace he could offer her.

The door in didn't open automatically at his approach. Thor paused, and he could hear raised voices inside - Okoye, it sounded like, her voice sharp, dangerous, attacked, don't know. He tapped lightly and it fell silent.

A moment later the door opened and Shuri looked up at him, her expression somber. Thor tensed. "What is it," he asked, and she opened her mouth, then closed it and stepped back.

"He just - appeared," she said lowly. "Inside our borders. The Dora Milaje found him, and when they told me...I thought maybe..."

Thor heard himself make a sound - a low moan, wounded-animal sound. It was Loki, lying there, his body still and limp as the last time Thor had seen him, held him, cheek pressed to his unmoving chest. His eyes were closed now rather than open and staring, which seemed like a mercy, at least, but Thor still wavered, his stomach lurching into his throat. At least, a part of him thought, at least his body hadn't been torn apart in space, he deserved, at least, the honor of a proper burning.

"Thor," Shuri said, some urgency in her voice, "he's not dead."

Thor's head whipped around. "What?" He said. Shuri gestured and Thor looked back at Loki, taking in the details he'd missed at first. The fact that he was limp rather than stiff as a corpse gone cold, and as he drew closer, scarcely daring to believe, the very slight rise and fall of his chest. Thor's inhale hurt and came out as a helpless sob, and he could not even feel ashamed.

"He was conscious for a while after the Dora Milaje found him," Shuri said. "Lashed out at them - they're not seriously harmed," she added quickly. "I think he did more harm to himself panicking than he did to them. He's been unconscious since." She paused. "His neck..."

The awful, soul-rending crack echoed in Thor's ears. He didn't take his eyes off Loki. Knowing that he lived somehow made the livid bruises ringing his throat all the more hideous; he could see now, though, the force field that cradled his head and neck, keeping both aligned. "I know," Thor said hoarsely. If Loki was alive - he should be healing. Except - maybe there wasn't enough left in him to both survive and mend himself. "Can you...fix it?"

"Yes," Shuri said. "It's...bad, but it could be worse. I'll need to call in a proper doctor, though, and I..." she hesitated. "I'm sorry to ask this, but...is it likely that he will survive? Because if not...there are so many of my people who need help, and I have a duty to them."

Thor's first reaction was rage: how dare you, how dare you place the lives of humans above my brother's, but a moment later he was ashamed. And besides...he laid a trembling hand on Loki's forehead. His skin felt damp with sweat and too warm, but it was the sweat and warmth of the living. "He will," Thor said. "If Loki has come this far..."

All this time, a part of him thought. Days, Loki had been alive, and in pain, and alone. How had he even managed to come here? How much strength had he expended that he couldn't spare?

"May I stay?" He asked.

"Yes," Shuri said at once. "Yes, of course. And I'll...I'll find a doctor with the right experience."

"Thank you," Thor said, hushed. He still could not look away from Loki. He moved his hand to rest against his cheek, careful not to jostle his head.

He couldn't move away. It felt like if he did, if he took even a step back, Loki would be gone.

Thor did make himself move eventually, but only to find a chair for himself so he could sit beside Loki and hold his hand, fingers resting over the pulse in his wrist, slow and weak but there, there, there.

**

Loki remained still as death until the doctor came to examine him. The moment she touched him to test mobility, his eyes snapped open and he made a horrible snarling sound. His magic lashed out even more violently, sending the doctor skidding across the floor; Loki tried to claw himself upright, but the second his head lifted away from the field that had been supporting him, he screamed and collapsed back down. His breathing was harsh and noisy, whistling in and out of his lungs as he panted.

Thor bent over Loki, his eyes open but unseeing, eyelids fluttering. He looked so afraid, and Thor’s heart ached. "Loki," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "It's me. It's Thor. Do you hear me? You're safe now." Loki's eyes rolled with unreasoning terror and he shuddered in seizure-like spasms, seemingly unaware that Thor was there at all. Before too long, though, and without responding, he seemed to exhaust himself back into unconsciousness.

The doctor, for her part, picked herself up off the floor and refused to come any closer.

"It isn't his fault," Thor protested, but he couldn't truly blame her. She hadn't been seriously hurt, but she could have been. He bent his head forward, looking down at Loki. Was it his imagination, or did his head look more askew on his neck, that wrongness to the angle more pronounced?

Shuri forced him out, her expression tight. "I'm going to try to make a better brace," she said. "While we figure out what to do." Thor walked outside in a daze, thoughts and feelings a hopelessly tangled muddle.

Loki was alive, he told himself. Right now, that was all that mattered.

"Thor," he heard, and looked up to see Steve jogging toward him. "I heard something had happened--" The fear - the dread - was naked on his face. His friend had aged, in Thor's absence - the burdens he bore grown heavier. Thor supposed that was true for them all. For a moment he considered lying - it was nothing, everything is fine - but...

"It's Loki," he said. The confusion on Steve's face made him add, "he's alive."

"You said..."

"That Thanos killed him? I thought he had. He--" Thor swallowed, and made himself go on. "Strangled him. And broke his neck. I held his body and I was certain--" He'd been certain on Svartalfheim, too. No more resurrections, Thanos had said, and Thor felt a surge of spiteful pleasure: you were wrong. You underestimated him.

"Somehow," Thor managed, at length, "he survived. And made his way here."

"Here," Steve said, glancing past Thor like he thought Loki would appear. It occurred to Thor belatedly that perhaps his friends would not find this such welcome news. That perhaps his friends might resent that Thor had been given this gift, and those they loved were still lost.

"Yes," he said. "Though he is not...he is still wounded."

Steve's face was blank for a long moment before he dropped it into his hands. "God," he said. Thor waited, and Steve looked up, finally. "I'm glad," he said. "I'm glad for you. And if there's, I don't know, anything I can do to help, anything you need...it'd be nice to be able to do something." His lips twisted in a wry smile that didn't move the rest of his face.

Steve's acceptance made Thor sad more than it relieved him. "Thank you," he said. "If there is anything...I'll let you know."

**

Thor left Loki very seldom over the next days. Shuri designed, as she’d said, a new brace for Loki’s neck that was more solid than the force field and was apparently able to ease some of Loki’s pain. Thor asked twice more for someone who would work on Loki, but after the third failure Shuri put her foot down. "I can't ask people to put themselves in danger when it's not helping," she said flatly.

"Are you giving up, then?" Thor demanded, his temper heating, but she held her ground.

"No," she said. "I'm working on it. Or - having it worked on." She looked, for just a moment, unbearably tired, and then visibly straightened. Too old for her age, Thor thought. "Hopefully we'll have something soon that can make it so we can help him without him attacking us."

Thor glanced unhappily over at Loki. "How soon?"

"I don't know," Shuri said. "I can't just help you. My people need..." Her voice faltered a little, but she caught herself.

"I know," Thor said, shame creeping into his heart. "I know how great a burden you bear. And I am grateful, impossibly grateful, that you are helping me at all. I only ask because--"

Something caught Thor's attention and he paused, frowning, though at first he couldn't have said why. Loki, he thought, and looked toward him, realizing that the rasp of his breathing had changed rhythms

"Loki?" Thor said carefully.

Loki took a rattling breath and jerked, his left hand flying up to the new brace around his throat and clawing at it. Before Thor could reach him, his hand glowed green and the brace simply dissolved under his hands.

Loki's howl of pain cut Thor to the quick. He grabbed Loki's wrists and held them. "Hold still, Loki," he said. "You need to - it's meant to help. You're hurting yourself."

Loki went still all at once, ceasing even to breathe. Thor jerked his head at the Dora Milaje by the door, keeping his gaze on Loki; his eyes were wide open but unfocused. When the fresh brace closed around his neck, he started shaking; Thor thought of Thanos's hand on Loki's throat and his grip on Loki's arms tightened. "It's all right," he made himself say. "Stay calm."

Loki opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but all that came out was a horrible rasp. Thor took a deep, uneven breath. "If I let go," he said, "you have to leave the brace alone."

Loki's eyes seemed to clear a little, his eyebrows pulling together. Thor tried to give him an encouraging smile, though he wasn't sure how well it worked. It didn't seem to soothe Loki, at any rate, his breathing picking up again, rasping in and out. His right arm twitched and Loki's face spasmed, a sound like a whine squeezed out of him.

"It's all right," Thor tried. "I'm here." He couldn't tell if it mattered. Loki didn't really seem to relax. Thor kept his hold on his wrists, wary of the possibility that Loki might try again to remove the brace, as he turned to look at Shuri. A real doctor, she said. Reminding him again that this was temporary. That she could keep Loki stable but not heal him. That if they could not find the means to keep Loki from hurting those trying to help, it was possible he wouldn't recover.

He let go slowly after Shuri left. "Thor," Loki said, his voice almost unrecognizable as his. "You're - alive."

Thor's breath exploded out of him and he almost buckled. "So are you," he said, pressing a hand to Loki's chest where he could feel his heart. "So are you." He wanted to weep, to clutch Loki to his chest and hold him there - but he was all too aware that he was far more likely to hurt than help.

Every word out of Loki's mouth made Thor want to wince. His voice didn't sound like his - hoarse, rasping. An audible reminder of what had happened, and of the pain that Loki was feeling now. But at least he was awake, and coherent. He looked at Thor with a kind of desperate hunger that made Thor ache. Like he was as afraid that Thor might vanish as Thor was that Loki would.

When Loki dropped off again, he hadn't asked about Thanos, or what had happened. In truth, Thor was relieved. That wasn't a conversation he thought either of them was ready to have. Not now. When Loki was well.

**

You'll be here? Loki had asked, when Thor had asked if he was willing to try again with the doctors. Speaking still sounded like it hurt, and there was something agonizingly raw in his voice and his face, in the way he asked. Scared, young.

Yes, Thor had said. I'll be here. As though his presence had ever been enough. And yet Loki still asked.

Within moments of being given the drug Wakanda’s scientists had crafted, Loki was awake, aware, but unable to so much as clench a fist. Almost immediately his breathing turned quick and ragged: the sound of oncoming panic. Thor put his hands on Loki's shoulders and pressed down lightly. "Easy, brother," he said. "It's all right."

Knowing what it would be, expecting that it would hurt, and hoping that hurt now would mean less later, wasn't the same as watching it happen.

Wakanda's healers were far more advanced than any of the other doctors Thor had seen on Midgard, but they still had to cut into Loki's flesh to reach and set the bones of his spine. No tension tightened Loki's body as flesh parted under the knife, but he made a small pained noise. Thor shushed him, his stomach turning. They had been able to manage this much, but anesthetic and painkillers had been deemed too dangerous to experiment with by the doctors. Which meant this was going to hurt.

"I'm here, Loki," he said, hoping it would help. "I'm right here, it's going to be over soon."

It wasn't. Or at least, it seemed like an eternity. Loki started screaming when they reached bone, a sound that cut Thor through, his every instinct screaming at him to throw the doctors out, to rip them away from Loki and end the pain they were causing him. He held himself back with gritted teeth, bending down to murmur in Loki's ear, desperate attempts at comfort that Loki didn't seem able to hear.

Eventually, enough was enough, and Thor breathed a sigh of relief when Loki cut off, either mind or body apparently unable to take any more.

Thor couldn't actually watch the doing of it. The work of pressing Loki's vertebrae back into line, the intimate reminder of how close Loki had brushed to death. He looked away, though he left his hands on Loki's shoulders until it was done, like his unconscious brother might feel them there.

"He should stay still and resting for a while yet," the head doctor said, looking a little shaken. "And leave the brace on." She hesitated. "Someone will need to remove the stitches--"

"I can," Thor said firmly. "I have experience with it. And you have - too much to see to." She seemed grateful, if Thor wasn't mistaken, and nodded.

Soon he was alone, with Loki still unconscious. Was it Thor's imagination, or did his color look better? Was his breathing coming a little easier? He scarcely dared hope, and yet it crept up on him anyways.

**

Thor remembered clearly the first time Loki had been seriously injured. They'd been playing Frost Giant and Asgardian, with Thor playing the former and Loki the latter. Roaring ferociously about how he was going to eat Loki when he caught him, Thor pursued Loki with what he hoped was his most fearsome expression, Loki's nimbleness and speed barely keeping him out of Thor's reach. Suddenly, he'd bent his path, bolting for a tree, and climbed it like a squirrel. Thor had started up it after him, scrambling for purchase as Loki climbed higher, laughing.

"You can't catch me!" He'd said, looking back as he reached up, grasping for the next branch up. Thor saw it about to happen and reached himself, like he could catch Loki from below, stop him from falling. (As he had, centuries later, when Loki hung over the void and let go.)

Loki did fall. And landed with a sound like a branch snapping underfoot.

Thor hadn't bothered to climb back down, just jumping to the ground and rushing over to Loki, who was sitting up and staring at his arm bending the wrong way with wide eyes. It seemed to take him several moments to register the pain and started crying.

"It's all right," Thor had said, almost frantically. "Loki, it's all right, come with me, let's just go to the healers and, and they'll fix it. Here, take my hand and squeeze as hard as you want."

Loki had looked at him, gasping between sobs, and said only, "Thor," something plaintive in it, like he thought Thor could make everything better. He couldn't, he knew that even then, knew it looking at Loki's arm that he couldn't fix. But he wanted to, so badly it hurt. Wanted to live up to that look on Loki's face: the belief, the faith, like Thor was his hero.

Here they were now, a long way from then, and looking at Loki lying in repose Thor felt that need again. To make everything better.

Loki still did not know about Thanos's victory. Thor would have to tell him, sooner or later - sooner would be better. But he didn't want to. Didn't want Loki to know how badly he had failed - not just at stopping the Titan, but at avenging Loki, Heimdall, their people. That he'd been within a breath of finishing it, and had not. Had needed the satisfaction of looking in Thanos's eyes as he died, and for that--

For that, this.

What would Loki think of him? Thor told himself it did not matter. That what mattered was Loki's being here. But Loki was all that was left, and Thor did not want to bear his scorn, his anger, his disappointment.

He shoved the dark thoughts away, focusing instead on what was good. Loki, here. The bruises at last fading, his breathing easier, color a little better. Mending. Not well, but mending.

Norns, he was exhausted. Thor couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. Perhaps if he just closed his eyes for a little...

He dreamed of Loki laughing, scrambling up the tree, reaching for a branch that wasn't there. This time, Thor caught him. This time, Loki didn't fall.

[confessionsofa-frat-rat]

Ruined Seats

As I walk through the doors of the theatre, i'm taken back to when we walked through together. I was so excited to be sharing my favorite place in the world with you, Sharing my home with you. The gold sequins on my dress sparkle in the lights but tonight i am not on stage. I watch as my ballerina flats walk our familiar path to the last row of seats. The seats we sat in and watched in awe as we were told a story of fantastical heartbreak. We hooted and hollered for our friends’ wonderful performance. We took my favorite picture of us. Every space in this building is stained with you and i lost my Tide Pen. My favorite place in the world has been ruined by you. I can not walk these steps or sit in these chairs without hurting because of you. You've stolen everything from me, including my home.

On stage, the actors announce this season’s shows. I've been waiting for two months and i should be excited but i am only reminded of you. They announce Lion King and Grease but my eyes shine with tears because i won't be able to share them with you. A tear falls because i will never sit in these seats with you again. 

All i want to do is get out of here, to leave this memory to perish but i'm stopped by “hey, how are you”s and “are you auditioning for”s. Cant anyone see im hurting? Cant anyone see i've got to get out of here? I stumble in my flats as i miss the last stair and i rush into the lobby, i'm immediately surrounded by smiles and laughs. I've got to get out of here. I weave through people chatting happily about Company and Beauty and the Beast, but i can't breathe. Ive got to get out of here. I feel like the beast is holding my lungs in his hands. ive got to get out of here. You are holding my heart in your hands. Slamming into the front door, i finally breathe some fresh air. The breeze catches my dress and i feel it on my legs. The cool air of May calms my pulse. 

I have completely forgotten about the boy i came here with and i remember as he walks out the door looking relieved to have found me. I ditched him. I am embarrassed. I stare at my feet worried about what he thinks. He lifts my head with his hand under my chin and forces me to look in his eyes. They are full of compassion mixed with worry and i realized i've scared him. More tears spill over my cheeks as i fall into him. Of course he catches me, but i feel like my heart hit the ground. I've spent so much time hurting because of how low you left me that i've missed this boy trying to stand me up again, Trying to right me so i don't spill out all over the concrete. He continues to let me prick him with my thorns when all he's trying to do is take in the scent. I cry into his shirt and he lets me, not worried about how my makeup might ruin his flannel. I cry for you, i cry for me, i cry for us, i cry for this boy and he lets me. My whole body aches with the thought that this boy is full of love for me but i cannot give him my heart because it is broken into a hundred thousand pieces. A hundred thousand pieces is too many for one boy's hands. 

-e

[therapeutic-steter]

Oh my gosh. Dragon Stiles is fantastic oh my god. But I've only found a few fics of it, which sucks. So: "Peter had been losing shirts lately. Well. Not so much as loosing as having them stolen out from under his nose." AKA. Dragon Stiles steals Peter ' s clothes and stuff because he likes his scent.

Yes, I am quite the sucker for any Creature!Stiles fics, butDragon!Stiles does hold a special place in my heart. I may have went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you like it! 

Note: This one is just over 4,000 words.

—–break—–

“Stiles? Could you come here for a minute?”

“Coming!” Stiles stood from his desk, cracking his backafter sitting for so long before heading downstairs to where his dad wasworking at the kitchen table. “Yeah, pops?”

“Have a seat.”

Stiles did, wondering if he’d done something recently thatcould’ve gotten him in trouble and if he should admit now or wait to see whathis dad knew. John gave him a curious look.

“You’re not in trouble, but that look says that you probablyshould be. I’m not sure I want to know, though.”

Stiles grinned, relaxing in the chair. “Nonsense, daddio.I’m an angel.”

John laughed, shaking his head before looking down at thebook in his head.

“Look. Your eighteenth is coming up in a few weeks and yourmom…” John paused, taking a deep breath before pushing through. “Your mom mademe promise to give you this before then. She started writing it as soon as wefigured out about…the sickness.”

John handed the book over, trying to keep from getting tooemotional. Claudia was and probably would always be a sensitive topic for theStilinski men.

Stiles took the book gingerly, hands brushing over theleather front carefully. His mother’s words, written specifically for him.Words she wanted to make sure he heard, even if she wouldn’t be here to tellhim herself.

“She said it was important that you read that before youreighteenth birthday. I don’t know what it says, she asked me not to read itunless you wanted me to, but she said it was very important that you read allof it.”

“Okay,” Stiles croaked, voice cracking with emotion. Hecleared his throat, holding the notebook close. “Thanks.”

John smiled sadly, reaching out to brush his hand acrossStiles’ scruffy hair.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Stiles sniffled, emotion stinging his eyes. “Love you, dad.”

“Love you too,” John responded, before a steady handsqueezed Stiles’ shoulder before releasing him.

Stiles stood on shaky limbs and retreated back to his room,closing the door this time and sitting on the bed. He looked down at the book,fingers nervously brushing the cover before he worked up enough nerve to openit.

My Dear Mieczyslaw.

Stiles closed his eyes against his mother’s handwriting,curling around the notebook and breathing shaking, pushing back tears. Heforced a few trembling breaths in, wiping at the water that had escaped beforereturning to reading.

I’m so sorry I wasn’table to see you off to follow your dreams. I know they’ll be big and I knowyou’ll reach them and beyond. Know that I am endless proud of you, my littlewriggle wrym.

Stiles stopped again. His fingers brushed over the pagesleft of the notebook. He didn’t know if he could get through this, not withoutbreaking down every few sentences.

I’m also sorry I won’tbe there to help you with what’s to come. I know that what I’m about to tell youwill be hard to believe, but I hope you’ll heed my words. Then again, our kindtends to attract those of Other natures before even presenting, so maybe thiswon’t be so hard for you to believe after all. I hope not.

Stiles frowned, pushing away the emotional whiplash ofreading his mother’s words to actually take in what she was saying.

I wish I could’ve hadthis discussion with you myself, but you were just too young. I know you maythink I’m already suffering from the delusions of this sickness, but pleasetrust me.

My family came fromSlovakia, as you know. What you don’t know is that your grandparents, myparents, were very opposed to my marrying your father. They sent me over toAmerica to learn, but they wanted me to return and marry another once that wascompleted. But I met your father and I…I couldn’t bear to leave him. He was myBonded, môj jediný. I left my Clan for your father, but now my selfishness willbring hardship to you, as you will have no one to teach you.

We are Other, mylittle wrym. I am uncertain if you’ve encountered anything beyond the naturalworld yet in your lifetime. I had spoken with a friend of mine within BeaconHills who was also Other and she had agreed to introduce you to the Otherworld, since I cannot do so myself, so I hope she has kept to her vow. Wolvesare typically loyal creatures though, so I’m sure she has kept to it, unlesssomething prevented her. But I cannot put all of my faith in her. I must makesure you know. I have to make sure you’re prepared.

Because I left myClan, I cannot fight this sickness. Our kind is great, powerful, but even wehave weaknesses and need the help of Clanmates. Cutting ties with my familyleft me weak and I never recovered. Your father is a great man, but I havenever been brave enough to speak of my Otherness to him in order to create aTrue Bond. Maybe you will be braver than I, little wyrm.

So I will say this,and I hope you will believe me.

Mieczyslaw, my littlewyrm…you are a Dragon.

Stiles stared at thelast words on the page with wide eyes, disbelieving.

…

Stiles devoured the notebook his mother had left, readingover every page multiple times. He couldn’t believe he was a dragon! A Dragon!And he was going to be presenting on his eighteenth birthday! He’d get a fullshift with wings and claws and everything! His mom explained everything, theshift, the pain, the instincts. How he’d probably start hoarding things,focusing on scents as his senses increased, being even more protective of thosehe considered his. It was exciting, mind-blowing. He still could hardly believeit!

As he neared his eighteenth though, he began noticing thethings his mother had warned him about. Noises were getting louder, moredistracting. He would get angrier faster, a flash of heat rushing through hisveins at even the slightest provocation. Overall though, he felt more…solid.Steady. Secure. Like he’d finally learned what he’d been searching for allalong.

It was the scents that got him though. Everything wasso…distracting. He would walk around the house nightly, entering every room andbrushing his hands across any surface, ensuring his den carried his scent. He’dgotten touchier with his dad, hugging him or clapping his back often. His dadgave him a few side-eyes in the beginning, but after two weeks of it he’dsettled into the new routine, even offering a few hugs before Stiles could gofor them. Which was good. Hugs were always good, especially his dad’s.

The Pack though…Going to Derek’s loft and smelling thecombined scents was the ultimate test of control. He was getting better asfiltering them out and determining whose was whose, but it took a lot of hisconcentration and usually gave him a headache. The scents milling around therewere both welcoming and abhorrent, soothing and threatening. Objectively, heknew they all belonged to his friends, but sudden smells started to equate todanger, threat, and other unhappy things.

These new parts of himself that were coming to be stilldidn’t give him excuse for what he did.

It started with a normal pack meeting turned pixie hunt, asmost things were wont to be in this town. When the Pack had returned fromrunning around like mad-wolves plus one mad-dragon (not that he’d told anyoneabout that yet), everyone was tired and sore and ready to just take a nap.Scott took Isaac home, Allison and Lydia hadn’t come back with them, and Derekwas already headed up the stairs. Peter wiped the blood on his hands on hisjeans as he headed to the bathroom, presumably to take a shower. He stripped ofhis shirt on the way, leaving the dirty v-neck on the floor like the snob hewas before closing the door.

Stiles rolled his eyes, pausing from grabbing his clothesout from his overnight bag and snatching the shirt up with full intentions ofthrowing it in the hamper not five feet away. Something made him pause though,looking down at the shirt in his hand, nostrils flaring just a bit as hebreathed in.

Stiles’ knees went weak and he dropped to the floor, stillclutching the shirt. He shivered, pupils dilating as he buried his nose intothe shirt and breathed in. It was like a drug, the scent. He felt completelyoverwhelmed, lost to himself. He looked up, eyes focused on the door wherePeter had just disappeared and had to shake himself from ripping the door open.

He needed…He needed to get out of there. Right now, beforehe embarrassed himself. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bag and rushingout the door.

He never let go of the shirt.

…

He didn’t understand! He searched through every page of thenotebook, but his mom never said anything about certain scents giving someone…that kind of reaction. She’d went overeverything else so clearly, why would she have left out something like that? Hehad to be missing something.

In the meantime, he’d done some scent tests, trying to getas close to pure ‘sniffs’ of all of his friends. So far, while Scott smelledjust as much as home and safety as his dad and Allison made his figurativehackles rise up, none had resulted in the same reaction. And as the shirt beganto naturally lose its scent, he found himself craving it, needing another fix.It was ridiculous to think that way, but it was the only way Stiles could thinkto explain the incessant, ridiculous needhe felt to find Peter and steal all his clothes.

No one knew where Peter lived though or what he did in hisdowntime. An oversight of theirs, for sure. But having gone a whole weekwithout a fresh smell and with his birthday less than a week away, he set outafter school in an almost daze, following his feet and not giving it muchthought other than he needed something and his instincts seemed to know whereit was.

When he slipped into an apartment building that seemed nomore special than any other, Stiles nearly whimpered in relief when he got justa hint of Peter’s scent in the air. Oh. So that’s what his instincts weresearching for.

He followed the scent trail easily, almost running down thehall before stopping at one. He just knewit was the right one. Predictably, it was locked, but Stiles had learned how topick locks years ago. He slipped into the apartment easily once he listened anddidn’t hear any sounds marking Peter as being home. He wanted to take in theapartment for all it was worth, but firstly he headed straight for the bedroomwhere a load of dirty laundry was sitting innocently in the hamper. Stilesgrinned, snatching a v-neck and sweater towards the top before hugging themclose and breathing in. His eyes almost rolled in pleasure as he was surroundedby the scent of Peter. He gasped, mouth open to the air as he just breathed.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to gethimself together, sneaking out of the room with his treasure in hand. Hemanaged to keep himself from being too touchy, wondering if it was already amoot point with what little bit he had touched and left his scent on, but hedidn’t see a way around that. He slipped out of the apartment then, slinkinghome an odd mixture of pleased and mortified. He had to get this under control.

…

Stiles spent the next few days after his theft looking overhis shoulder, waiting for Peter to pop up and attack or demand his shirts backor something. But then the inevitable birthday plans started popping up and hewas so excited that he could hardly spare the brain cells to worry about Peter.He was a little concerned on what exactly his presenting would entail so he didmanage to talk Lydia out of throwing a wild party and instead doing a smallerthing with just the Pack. That way, if he sprouted wings or starting breathingfire, at least he’d only be in front of people already in the supernatural know.His mom had said he’d come into his power at the time of his birth on hiseighteenth birthday, which was around two in the morning if he rememberedcorrectly. He’d have to ask his dad. Luckily, the Pack was planning tocelebrate on Friday and his real birthday wasn’t until Sunday, so maybe itwould work out.

Perhaps his birthday plans had lulled him into a false senseof security though. Or maybe his eminent presenting made him a little forgetfulof other things. But for whatever reason, Stiles had failed to take intoaccount that not only was Peter the most paranoid person ever, he was also thebiggest drama king in California. So when he walked into the loft on Friday,all his friends yelling ‘Happy Birthday’ at his entrance, his eyes instantlylocked onto Peter’s positively wicked grin.

Please don’t sayanything now, he begged mentally, trying to turn into a telepath.

Peter’s eyes sparked with mischievousness, but he didn’tinstantly call Stiles out. He let Stiles hug and thank his friends, millingaround and honestly avoiding even looking in Peter’s direction for the firsttwo hours of the party.

“Play time’s over, Stiles,” Peter purred from behind him.Stiles startled, glancing at the man from under his lashes.

“Any chance you’d let it drop?” he asked, cautiouslyhopeful.

Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder and pullinghim into the kitchen for some semblance of privacy, which Stiles was thankfulfor.

“You want to offer the explanation now or do I need toconvince you?” Peter asked, casually leaning against the counter while watchingStiles hungrily.

Stiles gulped. “Well, um…You see…It was for…I didn’t…”

Peter raised a brow. “Anytime now,” he drawled.

Stiles hung his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stealyour shirts.”

“And cashmere sweater,” Peter interjected.

Stiles huffed, glowering at him. “And your cashmeresweater,” he added begrudgingly.

Peter hummed. “Odd, though, isn’t it? If you didn’t mean tosteal my clothes, why did you? Not exactly something that happens accidentlyvery often. Even rarely so if those clothes are in my place of residence and you have to pick the lock to get inside.”

Stiles gulped at the hint of a growl in Peter’s voice.“Look, dude, I’ll bring them back, I swear. I didn’t…It wasn’t on purpose. Ijust. I had to.”

“And I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

Stiles licked his lips nervously. “I know I owe you anexplanation, okay? But I just…can’t. Atleast not right now. I’m going through some…stuff, and it turns out my mom leftme a book about this stuff, and I’m still trying to…figure that stuff out. CanI, I don’t know, owe you?”

Peter studied him for a moment, eyes brimming with questionsbut he thankfully held them back. “I can be patient, Stiles. But I will want anexplanation. Otherwise, I might be forced to go looking and I get the feelingyou wouldn’t want me digging in some places.”

Stiles nodded. “Please don’t. I promise, I will explain,just not right now.”

Peter smirked lightly. “Alright then. We’ll table thisdiscussion for now.” Stiles let out a breath of relief, turning to head backout the room, when Peter grab his wrist. “I thought you might like this though,to add to your collection,” Peter murmured, stepping closer and grinningdangerously. Stiles stopped breathing, scared to inhale Peter’s scent sodirectly, and barely managed to grasp the cloth Peter shoved in his hand.

Peter winked then before pulling away and strutting out thekitchen. Stiles stood in awe before managing to look at what Peter had justgiven him. He shivered, licking his lips again unconsciously. It was a softwell-worn v-neck, obviously something Peter wore often. It smelt like Peter’sscent was embedded into the fibers and Stiles bit back a moan.

Oh boy, was he in trouble now.

…

Stiles’ dad had managed to take Sunday off for his birthday,so they had lunch before watching a baseball game and then heading to the dinerfor lunch. His dad gave him a gift card for a videogame and a new watch.Overall, it was nothing extravagant, but it was still nice. Sadly—or more, conveniently—hisdad did have to go in that night though, so around ten o’clock Stiles huggedhis dad one last time before the man left for his shift.

“Try not to get into trouble tonight, okay?”

“Never. I’m an angel,” Stiles said.

John laughed, ruffling his son’s hair. “Goodnight, son. Loveyou.”

“Night, dad. Love you too. Stay safe,” Stiles added, wavingas his dad left for work. Then he ran upstairs, changing into some worn clothesfor hiking and grabbing his ready back before locking up and heading out thebackdoor. He jumped over the fence, walking further into the woods determinedly.He wasn’t sure what exactly his presenting would entail, but he figured beingin an open space and away from breakable things or public places would be best.

As the night grew later, Stiles began to feel…different.More energetic. Awake. Alive. His eyesight was perfect even without using theflashlight he’d brought and he didn’t stumble or trip like he’d usually do. Hecould hear the forest noises around him, the chittering of squirrels andscurrying field mice. He felt invigorated, breathing in the scents of the forestand grinning to himself.

He was almost to his destination, a clearing on the backsideof the Preserve, when the forest went silent. He immediately noticed, pausingand listening intently. A steady heartbeat drew his attention, slow and calmlike a predator in his own territory. Stiles couldn’t say he was surprised whenhe breathed in only to be enveloped in Peter’s familiar, entrancing scent.

“You just get more and more interesting,” Peter spoke,stalking through the trees to Stiles’ side and matching his pace. Stilescontinued to the hearing, knowing it was a moot point to try and get Peter toleave him alone after all the oddities the man must’ve observed.

“Just you wait,” Stiles muttered. Peter chuckled.

“Oh? Do I get my explanation now?”

Stiles glanced over at him. “I bet even you wouldn’t haveseen this coming. And honestly, I’m not completely sure what’s going to happen,but whatever it is, it’s going to happen in…” He glanced at his phone. “…aboutan hour.”

“I’m assuming this is something you want kept secret fornow?”

Stiles shrugged. “It’s not like it won’t get out eventuallywith our luck, but I do want a little bit of time to come to terms with itbefore I start telling the whole Pack. Changing one’s species isn’t somethingone gets used to overnight.”

Peter hummed curiously. “And what, exactly, are you turningin to?”

Stiles ignored his question as they finally reached theclearing. He dropped his bag, turning to look at Peter steadily. He breathed indeeply, taking in the scents of the clearing as well as Peter’s natural scent.He felt like he was buzzing, a rush running through his veins. There was astiffness in his muscles and he stretched, cracking his neck and rolling hisshoulders. A pressure on his fingertips and gums started, an ache deep withinhim that just needed to be released.

Peter’s eyes widened as he took in Stiles’ form. The boy’seyes were glowing a molten orange like embers, though he doubted the boy waseven aware. He had a different presence about him now than Peter had ever felt.It was almost like watching a lazing predator, one you knew could strike at anymoment but right now was the picture of calm.

Stiles started shifting in place, rolling his shoulders andreleasing ‘pops’ from his stiff joints. His fingers stretched and curled rhythmically.His heartbeat was slowing, a steady thump that would’ve made Peter think he wasasleep if it wasn’t for him watching the boy move. Stiles opened his mouthwide, jaw twisting back and forth like he had an ache there. Peterunconsciously took a few steps back, the pressure in the clearing surroundingthem growing heavier. It was like the moments before a storm, a weightedsilence just waiting for a burst to release the tension.

Stiles’ eyes flickered, glowing even brighter, before hethrew his head back. No sound came from him as his teeth elongated just as hisface started shifting as well. Peter held his breath as Stiles’ form morphed. Itwas an awe-worthy transition, smooth and effortless. Claws burst from hisfingertips, his shoes were ripped to shreds as his feet changed. His shirt wasripped apart as spikes protruded from his back with a tail following shortlyafter. The final step was the wide wings that burst from his back, extendingalmost the full width of the clearing. Stiles roared with the finalization ofhis shift. Where the boy had been, now a towering beast stood.

A dragon.

Peter could barely breathe,eyes alight with disbelief and awe. It was like watching a fairytale come tolife. A dragon. A dragon! Stiles was a dragon!

Stiles made a rumbling sound, molten eyes watching him. Heshifted on his feet, twisting his long neck and take in his new form. When heflapped his wings inquisitively, Peter couldn’t help but chuckle because Stileshad let out a chirping sound of excitement. Stiles turned his attention back toPeter at the sound, huffing and leaning closer. His breath was a waft of warmair over him.

“You continue to surprise me,” Peter murmured in reverence.

Stiles snuffled, breathing in Peter’s scent and steppingjust a bit closer. Peter lifted his hand, hesitantly reaching out for Stiles’face. The dragon leaned into the touch, letting him brush his fingers across thescales. They felt like warm stones, smooth and alive.

Stiles felt much more at peace now that he’d finallypresented. He felt comfortable, like he was always meant to be in this form. Healso felt a glowing center within himself that hadn’t been there before.Breathing in Peter’s scent and feeling his touch against his scales, he wasbeginning to understand why his mother hadn’t explained his reaction to the manbefore.

Môj jediný, shehad called his dad. Her Only.

Peter smiled like a child, pleased and excited at seeingsomething new, something he thought was just a myth. Stiles made a purringsound, pleasure bursting from him at the obvious sign of his Bonded’shappiness.

“I suppose I should be honored to have been chosen as thesubject of a dragon’s hoard,” Peter teased him lightly, still much too joyfulto come off as anything less.

Stiles’ snorted, brushing against his side and chirpingadorably.

Peter smiled, running his hands down the scales of Stiles’neck, more confident now in his welcome. He couldn’t help but watch the moonlightreflecting off the scales. The white light made Stiles shimmer like he was madeof water, beauty and grace personified. He felt something like a Pack bondcentered within him, but it felt different. Stronger. And it was obviously tetheredto the dragon in question. He wasn’t that concerned though, simply welcomed thebond within him and cradled it close. He would ask Stiles about it later, oncethe boy had changed back. For now, he would soak in the relief of having such aconnection when he’d been denied true Pack bonds for so long.

“I hope you know, you’ll never get rid of me now,” Peterwarned him.

Stiles growled, curling around the wolf and chuffing once.

And, well. That was that then. Peter smiled; he guessed therewere worse fates.