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hellodarling1357 · 4 months

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Flames and Embers: Part 2 - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Thank you for all of the love on part one of Flames and Embers, it honestly means the world!

The next few parts will still have a bit of character set up, but I'm going off of this for everyone's (approx) ages because there will probably be a few different time line jumps throughout the chapters, at least until it's all caught up.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if you've got any questions about this fic (or any of my others)!

I'm hoping to get a new chapter out every week. I've got a mass word doc already with so so so many ideas and little snippets that I'm so excited to properly write!

As always, requests are open!!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 2.6k

~ 528 years earlier ~

“But Father, I don’t want to go.” You were seven years old and had just been escorted to the entrance hall after being stuffed into a gown, hair done up in twirls with a small tiara placed atop your head.

Beron fixed you with a cold look as he assessed your appearance, causing you to shift on the spot as your brothers snickered behind his back.

“What did you say?”

“I just said that I didn’t want to go…” You trailed off, too late in realising your mistake.

Rule one, don’t question your High Lord.

Rule two, don’t talk back.

It made no difference that he was your father, your loyalty and obedience to his throne always came first, and within the span of just a few seconds, you had already broken the rules that had been outlined for you since before you could talk.

“If I say you are going, then you are going,” The lack of emotion in his voice sent chills over you, making you stare down at your feet to escape his pressing glare. “The only good that comes from having you as a daughter, is the chance of marrying you off and receiving a handsome dowery– “

“But Father, surely she is too young–“ The slap to the face that Eris received had the room coming to a standstill, even the snickering of your other brothers was silenced at the impact.

“Obviously she’s not getting married tonight, stupid boy. No, we need to start making her presence known, so that when the time comes it will be an easy enough transaction.”

You quietly sniffled, trying to hold back your tears. All you wanted to do was to run back upstairs and hide in your room. Your father turned back to the fae males who had silently watched the scene with smug smirks, resuming their previous conversation as you waited to depart for the Spring Court Ball.

With wide, watery eyes, you turned to face Eris. He had tried to help you and had gotten hurt in the process, but now he was back to his cold, distant self. This happened a lot, you had begun to realise. He would be warm and loving towards you, would try to protect you, but as soon as the others were around or it became too noticeable, he would act as though you didn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong to have the others treat you like this, but you didn’t want to disappoint your father or your brother’s any further, so you wiped away your tears and raised your chin, silently waiting for the order to leave; slipping into the role of the perfect, silent female as you pushed away you worries surrounding the night ahead.

*****

The fae male your father worked with sneered down at you when he was ordered to winnow you to the Spring Court, still, you wouldn’t mention it to your father in case it was further reason for him to be angry with you, in case the male’s reaction was because of something you had done – not realising it was purely because you were a female who existed within the Autumn Court.

You timidly trailed in behind your brothers, who were pushing each other around as they followed your father into the glowing ballroom. Your family was announced upon entrance, and they all quickly dispersed into the crowd, leaving you lingering in the doorway with no idea what you should be doing; whether you should stay out of sight or if you should be following their lead. It was too late now; you had already lost sight of them so resorted to making your way around the edge of the room where you tried to copy what the other fae females were doing. It was too bad that none of them were anywhere near your age or bothered to acknowledge you in anyway. With a sigh you retreated to one of the shadowed corners and slumped into the seat as you observed the ballroom with disdain.

“Who are you?” The sudden appearance of the boy made you jump out of your chair, edging around it to create some distance between the two of you.

“Who are you?”

“I asked you first,” You warily glared at him, taking in his dark hair and violet eyes; he had to have been around the same age as you. There was a beat of silence before he continued, “I’m Rhys. Or Rhysand. But only my father calls me that. I much prefer Rhys. Did you know that I’m going to be a High Lord one day?”

You stayed silent, glancing around the room for any sight of your own father or brothers. Regardless of who this boy said he was, or who he was going to be, you knew your father wouldn’t approve of you talking to him and that it would most likely result in a lecture about maintaining appearances and, depending on his mood after tonight, a potential beating at your disobedience.

Oblivious to your discomfort, the boy, Rhys, continued talking, “Are you from Autumn?”

Your eyes shot towards him, before quickly looking around “Why? Why do you say that?”

That was another of your father’s rules broken if Rhy had already figured out who you were.

“Your hair,” You gave him a look of confusion, “It’s red?” He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes, it is. By why does that mean I’m from Autmn?” Maybe you could try to throw him off, after all, your father had always said not to trust anyone from the other courts.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t.” His face was a mixture of deep contemplation and intrigue. “But it’s a good guess. Look, that’s all the High Lord’s sons over there, and they all have red hair.”

You head whipped around so fast, fear widening your eyes but, thankfully, they weren’t paying any attention to you.

“Can I tell you a secret? But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” It seemed the future High Lord had already jumped onto his next trail of thought, no longer curious about which court you hailed from.

“I heard, and I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. I heard my father, he’s the Night Court High Lord, saying to the males he works with that the Autumn High Lord is,” He looked around, giving you a conspiratorial smile as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to quote his father, “a real piece of work.”

Rhys looked at you, gauging your reaction to the scandalous piece of news. You froze, not sure how to respond, but then a giggle left you, followed by another and another. You tried to hide your smile behind your hand but the pleased look on Rhys’ face and his laugh that followed made you giggle even harder.

“Rhysand.” A stern voice bit through the air, halting you both mid laugh. “Come over here. Now.” You had frozen at the tone of the male’s voice, used to associating the coldness of it with some form of punishment. Rhys, however, didn’t seem too concerned as he merrily said, “See you later, Autumn.” and made his way over to where his father and a female, who you could only assume was his mother, stood.

*****

You shook your head as if to clear the memories that had begun to resurface after your encounter with Rhysand in the dungeon. A part of you yearned for the simplicity of your youth, however, you now knew that simplicity didn’t necessarily mean happiness. And that, in reality, the simplicity you had experienced was purely your own youthful ignorance to the world around you.

Weeks had passed since the bargain had been made and Rhysand was yet to properly utilise your side of the deal. Not that you were complaining. The only times he had even deigned to acknowledge you since that night always seemed to coincide with your visits to Feyre. You could now guarantee that within the hour of you return from the dungeons, his voice would infiltrate your mind; only ever asking how “Feyre Darling” seemed to be faring.

The night before Feyre’s final task had arrived all too quickly. The party was in full swing – the fae around you drank and lounged and danced, others stood around laughing and singing as though they had no care in the world.

You stood with Lucien against a wall, both of you had a drink in hand but that was as festive as you would allow yourself to appear, especially when considering what Feyre would be facing tomorrow.

Neither of you talked much in public, leaving the decades worth of missed conversations for when you managed to find some quiet in the privacy of your own rooms. Instead, you observed the partygoers together and kept an eye out for the rest of your brothers and your father. Your mother was a rare sight at events such as these, over the years she had become more and more reserved, now, however, you couldn’t blame her one bit. Especially when considering the sight you were forced to witness as two young fae females sat draped across the arms of the seat your father occupied; you turned away in disgust, a scoff from Lucien was the only acknowledgement that he had also noticed.

Lucien pulled you from your thoughts with an elbow nudged into your side, inclining his head towards where Tamlin had silently moved to stand next to Feyre. You smiled at the sight, knowing how much she had missed him. At the sight of Tamlin sauntering off and Feyre trying to casually follow after him, you and Lucien shared a knowing smirk. All too suddenly, that small flicker of joy was extinguished with a scrape across your mental shield.

“Eyes and ears. Y/N, dearest”.

He offered no further instruction, but you knew what, who, he was referring to. With a disgruntled sigh, you pushed off the wall, murmuring to your youngest brother that you would see him later, before making your way through the crowd and out the door that Feyre and Tamlin had disappeared through.

The scene before you in the long stretch of corridor had you hesitating as you quietly shut the door behind you. They were clearly too caught up in, well, one another to even realise they were no longer alone. Also, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anyone could have walked in on them; you didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if they had been caught by someone else.

“Is this what you were wanting?” You shot back at Rhys, showing him the sight before you.

“I appreciate your efficiency. Best to make yourself scarce.” He purred back. You were too tired to think about what his words meant.

Not wanting to head back to the party that was becoming more and more unruly as the night went on, you made your way up the stairs and headed to your room, careful not to disturb Feyre and Tamlin as you passed by, hoping to allow them even just a moment of peace. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, not with the thought of what was to come tomorrow, but at least you would have a bit of quiet before everything changed, whether that be for the worse or the better.

*****

“Well, you certainly maintained your knack for having perfect timing over the years.”

The drawl of Rhys’ voice and his sudden appearance by the small window in your room had you jumping back, heart beating furiously in your chest.

“What do you want?” You voice was a low snarl as you glared at the High Lord, too tired and too fed up with the situation at hand to feign even an ounce of respect.

“I’m hurt, I thought you were beginning to warm up to me, what with your recent little trips down memory lane,” He tapped a finger to the side of his head, making a snarl appear on your face at the implication. “Seems as though you’ve been thinking about a lot of people from our past lately.” This was the most either of you had ever acknowledged the friendship you had once shared; of the other life you were so close to having before it was so cruelly snatched out of your hands.

“Stay out of my head.” He simply chuckled in response as he leant against the wall, silently observing you as he absentmindedly picked at his dark dress shirt.

“Why did you have me do that? You couldn’t allow Feyre a moment of happiness before whatever she has planned for her tomorrow?” You quickly changed the subject before he decided to delve even deeper into those memories of the past, your voice spitting out the word in reference to Amarantha.

You were surprised at the scoff Rhys let out, a scowl of his own appearing on his face at the thought of what he had walked in on, what you had shown him.

“Utter fools,” he seemed to say to himself as he crossed the room and sat in one of the old armchairs. “You're honestly telling me you don't see what was wrong with that whole…situation?”

Honestly? No, you didn’t. But you weren’t going to offer up an ounce of conversation as he begun making himself at home.

“He had a chance. A chance to get Feyre out. But instead, he wastes the opportunity on a quick fuck,” Your eyebrows narrowed at his words. That was not what you were expecting him to say, but now that you thought about it… Rhys hurriedly continued, voice laced with irritation, “If you were even just a minute later with showing me what was happening, it would’ve been too late for me to intervene, and then Amarantha would have seen everything.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That bitch would have killed Feyre on the spot if she had seen the two of them together. And if Feyre is dead… well, then the rest of us are well and truly fucked because there will be no other chances of getting out of this mess.”

His candour had your head spinning in cartwheels, still trying to catch up on the implication of his words, his actions.

“So…,” You started, still piecing it all together, “you were trying to protect her? After everything you’ve done, you, what? Suddenly grow a conscience?”

He just gives you an incredulous look before standing up with a disappointed sounding sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” The dark shadows start to gather around him but something in your stomach felt unsettled at his sudden departure.

“Wait, Rhys? What’s your end game here? What are you planning?” The shadows disappeared the moment the words were out, a smug grin appearing on his face.

“So, it’s back to being Rhys again, is it? Here I was thinking you preferred to call me Rhysand nowadays.”

Letting out a scoff you rolled your eyes. For a fleeing moment he had seemed so much like the male you had once known. Now, however, the new asshole version of him stood before you again; the epitome of arrogance and entitlement.

“Honestly, I would prefer to call you a prick, but it doesn’t seem overly appropriate, High Lord.” You offered a mocking curtsey.

A deep laugh escaped him as the darkness gathered around his shoulders again, leaving you with a final, “goodnight, Y/N.” then you were once again alone in your room, the dread of what tomorrow would bring curling itself around you.

*****

Thanks for reading 🥰

Tag List: @dr4g0ngirl @esposadomd @judig92 @hnyclover @sarawritestories @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @macimads @gorlillaglue25

#cassian x reader #vanserra!reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

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generalllimaginesss · 5 months

Note

"Who are you again?" with Nico. I have this thought that he wants to talk to her at a bar and gets nervous and is cocky when he approaches her. And obviously she knows who he is because his face is plastered all over the city. But she can’t stand when men are arrogant so she pretends not to know him and sends him back to his table. Then maybe he sees her at a coffee shop a few days later and he approaches her there too but in a more chill way. And she continues the “who are you again” joke but actually has a conversation with him.

Just like fluffy Nico being awkward and kind of being awful but only bc he’s nervous around the pretty girl.

Honestly I feel like Nico would be the most precious boyfriend ever. Whoever gets him wins in life. But anyways….here ya go! I kind of went a slightly different route with Nico not being very nervous, but I feel like this flows ok. Thank you for requesting! Keep them coming!

••

The bar that you were currently in was loud and slightly obnoxious. Because it was later in the night, the crowd was more rowdy than you cared for, causing you to become irritable with everything.

So here you were, sitting with a friend of yours at a table in the corner, trying to avoid people at all costs, when a group of guys walk through the door, some laughing, some heading to the bar, but one in particular caught your eye.

He was tall, had brown hair that was a little messy, but his smile was hard to miss. It lit up the whole room, a refresher from the scene that had been playing before his presence.

"Is that who I think it is?" Your friend elbowed you, pointing to where the guy was propping himself up against the wall talking to somebody.

As you sat there looking at him longer, trying to place his face, the realization that the guy is Nico Hischier hits you. He's practically the face of hockey in New Jersey, how could you miss that?

You watch as somebody hands him a beer and he takes a sip, his head tipping back slightly and his eyes beginning to take in the people around him. A couple of girls ask to take pictures with him, so he obliges. Some guys go over and talk to him about the game that night, but nothing really caught his attention until he glanced around the room and saw you sitting at a corner table, already looking at him.

Immediately, you break the eye contact, hoping that maybe he wasn't actually looking at you, but he pushes off of the wall and begins to walk in your direction.

"Holy shit he's coming over here," Your friend squeals, adjusting her hair so that she looks presentable.

"Shut up," You hiss, not wanting to seem like a crazy fangirl.

Nico gets intercepted by a guy with a Devils jersey on asking for a picture, but he immediately comes to your table afterwards, pulling a chair out and taking a seat.

Something about how he didn't ask if he could sit with you hit you wrong. Sure, he was famous and good looking, but that didn't mean that he got to do whatever he wanted.

You shifted your weight in your chair, eyebrows knitting together trying to figure the guy out.

"I saw you looking at me over there," Nico nodded his head to the spot where he was at earlier.

"And what about it?" You deadpan, your friend glancing between the two of you.

"I thought you would be interested, but apparently I thought wrong," Nico chuckled, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself out of the chair to walk off. He took a few steps and stopped, turning towards you once more.

"I'm sorry..." He chuckled, running his fingers through his locks that hung just above his eyes, "...you now who I am, right?"

And that was the icing on the cake for you. You don't typically judge a person by the first couple of things they say to you, but he was so unbearably arrogant that it made your skin crawl. He might have been the captain of a successful NHL team, but the fact that he expected you to know who he was was gross. He was a human. He wasn't some god that graced you with his presence like he thought he was apparently.

"Hm, no I don't think so. Who are you again?" You chuckled, but it held zero emotion behind it. The audacity of this guy completely baffled you.

Nico bit his lip, realizing that he somehow struck a nerve within you. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed-" He started, but was cut off by your harsh tone, "Well you know what they say about assuming? It makes an ass out of you."

You collected your purse and your friend as you left a dumbfounded Nico behind at the table, scratching his neck trying to figure out what just happened.

"What was that about?" Your friend nudged you as you made your way out of the bar and down the street.

"He acted like a pretentious bitch, that's what," Pulling your coat tighter around you, you arranged for an uber to pick you and your friend up and take you home, deciding that it was time to call it a night.

-----

A few weeks passed after the encounter with Nico at the bar. It never really crossed your mind much, other than the fact that you roll your eyes every time he was shown during a game that you watched. The whole ordeal just really disappointed you because he was very attractive and seemed to be sweet in all of his interviews and moments with his team, but actions speak louder than words and his actions at the bar were loud and clear.

You were currently walking into a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was near your apartment, preparing to have an intense study session since finals were approaching soon. The cozy ambience felt warm and welcoming, the perfect combination for you.

As you were beginning to zone in on the material before you, the bell from the door sounded, signaling a new person in the shop. Out of habit, you glance up and notice a familiar person making his way to the counter. He didn't seem to notice you at first, so you debated on gathering your stuff and leaving. However, nobody was going to have that kind of hold on you. If you wanted to study in this coffee shop, then that is what was going to happen. Even if there was a douche hockey guy.

You watched as he ordered and gave the barista his card to pay. Since he still hadn't seen you, you decided to shift your attention back to your notes, seeing that's the whole reason you were here.

You thought you got off without having to interact with him, but quickly realized that was not the case when the sound of somebody clearing their throat near you interrupted you studying.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" He flashed an innocent smile, watching as your cheeks heated, much to your displeasure.

"Seems to be," Your answer was short and to the point, hoping he'd get the hint that you were busy.

"Um, is this seat taken?" He motioned toward the seat across the table from you. Maybe he learned his lesson from last time?

"Nope," You moved your bag out of the seat so that he could sit there.

There was a few moments of awkward silence before Nico decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry about the other night. My name is Nico," His outstretched hand hovered above the table, waiting for yours to meet it.

You could have been rude and just ignored him, but there was something about the way that his little dimple indented and the softness of his eyes. He was just a beautiful person.

"Who?" You joked, causing Nico to laugh, his whole body shaking with him.

"I'm teasing, it's nice to formally meet you," Your hand connected with his and you could have swore there were butterflies going rampant in your belly.

"The other night...I don't want to make an excuse for being an ass, but it was right after a win and I still had an adrenaline rush, the boys were around, and I honestly didn't realize how rude it was until I was trying to go to sleep that night. I don't want you to think that the fame went to my head or anything. That couldn't be far from the truth," He fidgeted with the rubber bracelet that decorated his hand, making eye contact with you a few times.

"Hey, we all have our moments. You happened to catch me out of my element. Bars are not quite my scene," You giggled, recalling the nightmare that was the bar that night.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you the other night, ha, but you're beautiful. Like wow," He sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee as he grinned at you trying to control your blush.

"Why thank you," Your laugh caused a train reaction from him.

The two of you talked about so many different things. The topic of how he got into hockey came up, and then what brought you into the bar that night, the conversation just flowing effortlessly. There was never another an awkward moment after that initial one.

Before either of you knew it, 2 hours had passed. Although you should have been studying, the time spent with Nico was nice, something that you could get used to.

"I've really enjoyed this," Nico nudged your leg with his, causing tingles to erupt from the spot where he touched you.

"Me too. You definitely made up for what happened at the bar," You winked, causing him to chuckle in response.

"The team has a Christmas party coming up and I happen to be dateless right now," A cheeky grin formed as he began to gain the courage to ask you on a date.

"Well that's quite the predicament, isn't it?" You knew where he was going with it, but you decided to play along with him.

"Yeah, it is. You wouldn't know how to fix that, would you?" He licked his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth.

"I mean, there's dating apps, fangirls, I'm sure you can find somebody who would love to go with you," Smirking, you finished the last bit of your coffee that was now cold.

"There's also girls that you meet in bars who happen to go to the same coffee shop as you..." Nico trailed off as he watched your response.

"Mr. Hischier, are you asking me to be your date?" You feigned shock, covering your mouth with your hand in attempt to hide your smile.

"Wait, who are you again?" His eyes squinted mischeviously as you rolled your eyes and handed him your phone so that he could put his phone number in.

"I would love to be your date," He punched in his number and felt his phone vibrate in his pocking, signaling that you had texted his phone.

"I've got to go study for my final, so I will see you later," You announced as the two of you gathered your things and walked out together.

Nico gave you a tight side hug, one that was unexpected, but definitely wanted. His cologne was magical and he was just cozy. You walked towards your apartment, a smile etched onto your face as you immediately recall the whole conversation.

Nico glanced at his phone as he headed to his car, deciding to read the text that you had sent him:

"You're pretty cute yourself. Like wow," It read and Nico couldn't help but giggle and smile as he climbed into the driver's side of his car, shaking his head and thanking God that he was able to impress you this time.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nj devils #new jersey devils

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hamlets-ak · 1 year

Text

the photo booth ༊*·˚

༘♡ the rest of the world was black and white. but we were in screaming colours

in which you and timothée are taking photos in a photo booth and you tell him that you love him for the first time right before the picture is taken

The secret was out. You and Timothée were officially dating according to all the Internet’s gossip blogs. Apparently, someone had spotted you in New York at a cinema and decided to capture the moment.

It was your birthday and Timothée knew how much you loved going to the theater, so, after extensive research, he found a place where there was a six-hour tribute to your favorite director. He didn’t really like the director, never understood them, and most definitely had no desire to sit for six hours in the uncomfortable cinema seat. However, he was going to endure, because he bought tickets for a different cause, to watch a six-hour tribute of you staring at the screen.

But it was the damn moment he decided to pull you closer and press a kiss to the side of your mouth - he really couldn't help it - when he heard the clicking sound of a phone camera coming from the back. He turned around, annoyance painted on his face as he noticed two girls in the back seats lowering their phones and whispering something to each other.

The same night, the whole Internet knew.

At first, you were both freaked out, drowned by the mess that was prevailing online and the fans that were going feral. Not that it really mattered what people thought about your relationship or the assumptions they were making about how serious it was or how long it was going to last, but you were relieved watching that most of the responses you got were positive.

So, instead of hiding it for fear of getting caught, you decided to embrace it and do all the things you wanted to do like a normal couple. Besides, you weren’t criminals, you were young and in love.

At least you were in love, very much in fact, that you were desperately trying to find a proper way to express your feelings for days. You weren't really looking for a response. You just wanted to let him know that you loved him, that you cared for him so much to the point of love.

« You’ve been awfully quiet for quite a while now, » Timothée said as you walked down crowded streets hand in hand, fingers tightly intertwined together, touching the other’s soft skin.

Your 35mm had run out of film so you were on your way to the nearest camera shop, which wasn’t very close to Tim’s house but it didn’t matter because you loved taking long walks; the autumn air fanning on your face, pulling back your hair, and the small chills running down your spine. Also, New York was really pretty in autumn (if you removed the smell of urine and shit); fewer crowds, red trees, leaves filling the streets.

« Me? », you looked up at him with a hint of amusement in your gaze at his observation and the tiniest smile.

« Yeah, what’s wrong? », he chuckled eyes fixed on you, biting his lips. You didn't respond for a moment turning your stare to the ground. Timothée gulped, still staring at you eager to find out what was disturbing your mind the last days.

« Nothing’s wrong, » you mumbled.

The thing about Timothée was that he always believed you were way out of his league and he got way too lucky to find you, a friend and a partner all at once. Being with you was so comfortable and familiar, as if he knew you his whole life. Everything felt so natural when you were together. You were the perfect balance, you were the Yin to his Yang, one completing the other.

And the truth was that your relationship wasn’t just about balance, comfort, and ease, it was also about love - mostly about love.

Timothée had never told you how much he loved you, though he was sure that it was going to slip out of his mouth at some point, but for the moment he was just too scared of losing you, that his tongue was tangled in knots only at the thought.

« You think I don’t know when my baby is being troubled? » Your lips lightly pouted at the sound of him calling you ‘baby’ and you tied your arms higher on his bicep leaning closer to press a kiss on his shoulder. « Come on, did I do something? Was I acting like a dick? », he smiled.

« You weren’t acting like a dick, » you laughed a little getting closer to his warm body. « Quite the opposite, actually. »

« Oh, » he furrowed his brows getting the fallen pieces of hair out of your face. « Alright then. » Noticing his expression you leaned your head to the side.

« Really, » you added, « nothing's wrong. » He just pressed his lips together, burying his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

« If you say so, I believe you, » he forced a smile, as sweet as possible to hide his concern. Even though Timothée was an actor, one of the best, in reality, he wasn't really good with lies. You could hear it in his voice that he was pretending but decided to ignore it, at least for the moment, and bring it up when you got back home.

« We’re here, » you pointed with your head at the camera store.

« They have a photo booth, » Tim noticed as you both walked inside. « Fun fact, I’ve never taken photos in one of those. »

« Really? », you widened your eyes in surprise.

« Yeah, » he chuckled at your expression.

« Then, we should definitely get some pictures, » you said with a smile. He kissed your head once, the intoxicating smell of your honey, cinnamon shampoo filling his nostrils.

You both greeted the employee as you moved further inside looking for roll films. Timmy wandered around the place with his hoodie on, while you crouched in front of some stands searching for the very basic Kodak Portra 400.

You were skilled (and by skilled I mean you've been in that store countless times,) so it didn't take long for you to find it. Quickly you paid for your rolls and you dragged Timothée to the photo booth.

« You are so cute, » you said making him chuckle as you lowered his hoodie and ruffled his curls a little. He watched you fixing his hair, but the thoughts he was having were overwhelming so he breathed out before speaking again.

« Sorry, I have to ask again but- », he held your hands close to his chest, gaze slowly falling down, « I just feel like the last couple of days something’s going on. »

« Timothée, » you said in a serious tone, as his grip relaxed and your hands slithered to the back of his neck. « Everything is fine between us. More than fine. »

« You’re sure? », his eyes widened holding your wrists. You nodded.

« One thousand percent sure. Now, let’s get our pics! »

You put in some coins, closing the red curtain behind you. Tim pulled you into his lap and you grinned goofily hearing the clicking of the camera.

Maybe it was just his cute expressions, his smell, the way he was holding you so tightly and reassuringly telling you ‘I’m here, I’ll always be here,’ or that you didn’t want him to think something was off in your relationship, that just couldn't restrain you from telling him. All these days, you were trying so hard to find the perfect, the most romantic moment to let him know, but you couldn't wait any longer. You wanted him to know.

You looked at him deeply making him return the stare.

« Okay, you want to know what's going on? » With these words, Tim’s brows lightly furrowed but quickly bobbed his head. « I love you. » You pressed your mouth shut in an attempt to hide a growing grin as you looked at Timothée’s surprised face which quickly heated up flaming red, lips separated and eyebrows slightly raised. You couldn’t help but laugh forgetting about the clicking sound in the back.

« You love me, » Tim repeated slowly before you touched his mouth with your lips and he stayed there too shocked and frozen to reply to your sweet kiss.

« Look at you! », you pointed at him as you got the four pictures in your hands. Timothée was still jaw-dropped. He truly believed for a few moments that you were going to break up with him. He didn’t give any attention to the photos instead kept staring at your cheerful face. « Your face! You are so- »

« I love you too, » Tim finally spoke. Your expression softened raising your stare and slowly smiling at him. « Very much. » He nodded eagerly.

« Okay, » you bit your lower lip watching the huge grin on his face and the way he clenched his jaw. The moment your eyes met he couldn’t help but look away. Timothée approached you to see the pics, hands wrapped around your waist, head on your shoulder as he pressed a kiss on your neck leaving a ‘mwah’ sound that only made you giggle.

« Okay. »

#hamlets-ak #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x y/n

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itsmealaiah · 4 months

Note

Current Bill brings female reader to the fashion show he's been invitated to, he's been looking at her all night and when finally the show ends he takes yn to have a romantic dinner, the dinner though won't be so romantic 👀

of course! i interpreted this as angst, so do with this what you will lol

Not to be

tags/ warnings: just angst, no happy ending

pairing: bill x fem

Your POV:

I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as I found myself standing in the middle of the crowded fashion show, my body pressed against the velvet rope as I watched the models strut down the runway. The atmosphere was electric, the music pounding in my ears as I scanned the room for Bill, my boyfriend. I spotted him immediately, standing near the front of the room in his signature suit and tie, his hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored trousers. He looked incredible, as usual, and my heart skipped a beat as he caught me looking at him. He winked, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

He'd told me he had a fashion show to attend this weekend, but I never expected him to actually bring me along. Then again, Bill always did like to make grand gestures. As the show came to an end, he made his way through the crowd, taking my hand in his and leading me towards the exit. The cool night air hit my skin like a blanket as we stepped outside, and I could feel the anticipation building inside me as I wondered where he was taking me next.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked up at him. He flashed me a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling in the light from a nearby street lamp.

"Just trust me, okay?" he said, his hand squeezing mine gently. "

We hopped into a taxi, and I could feel the anticipation building within me as we wove through the city streets. After what seemed like forever, the taxi finally came to a halt outside a dimly lit restaurant. The air inside was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke and something spicy that made my nose twitch. Bill led me to a secluded booth in the back corner, his hand still firmly entwined with mine. As we sat down, a waiter quickly appeared, dropping a menu on the table and practically jogging away.

I glanced up at Bill, but he seemed distracted, his eyes fixed on something over my shoulder. "What's wrong?" I asked, a frown tugging at my lips. He sighed and leaned in.

"Nothing, baby," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I just… I wanted this to be perfect for you." But as the words left his mouth, I couldn't help but feel a chill run down my spine. Something didn't seem right.

The waiter returned, and I forced a smile as I ordered my food, trying to push aside the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of my stomach. As we waited for our meals to arrive, Bill's attention seemed to drift again, his eyes roaming around the room like he was searching for something. Or someone.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, my voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine briefly before looking away again. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… thinking." I could tell he was lying, but I didn't want to push him. I wanted this night to be perfect for him too.

As our meals arrived, I forced myself to eat, even though the taste of the food was lost on me. I glanced up at Bill every now and then, hoping he would meet my eye and reassure me that everything was going to be okay. But he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, staring at the table in front of him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the waiter cleared away our dishes and brought the check. Bill reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, but before he could even touch it, I placed my hand on his arm. "It's okay," I said softly. "I've got it." He looked up at me, his eyes searching mine for understanding. I gave him a small smile, trying to reassure him that I was okay, that my heart wasn't slowly breaking.

He nodded slowly, his adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you y/n." His fingers trembled as he traced the outline of my hand with his thumb, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me.

As we sat there in the dimly lit restaurant, the air thick with unspoken words and unshed tears, I couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong. Bill had seemed so happy just hours ago, so confident and in control. But now, he looked like a lost soul, like the weight of the world was crushing him beneath its heels.

A part of me wanted to reach out and comfort him, to tell him that everything would be okay, but another part of me was afraid. Afraid that if I let myself get too close, I might not be able to handle the truth. Because deep down, I already knew what had happened. I knew why he'd brought me here, to this restaurant, to this booth in the back corner.

And as the realization settled over me like a leaden cloak, my heart sank like a stone.

"Bill," I said finally, my voice barely audible over the noise of the restaurant.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, y/n," he managed to choke out. "I wanted this night to be perfect for you. I wanted to tell you in person, but…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, looking away.

My heart sank like a stone. I knew what he was about to say. I'd seen the way he'd been looking at me, the way he'd been acting. I'd seen it all before. "It's okay," I said softly, forcing a smile I didn't feel. "I understand."

Bill took a deep breath and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I've met someone else," he said finally. "I'm sorry, y/n. So, so sorry."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I forced myself to remain calm, to keep my expression neutral. "It's okay," I repeated. "I understand." Inside, though, I was a mess. My heart ached, and tears burned behind my eyes. But I couldn't let him see that. Not now.

He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. His touch was gentle, but it felt like he was holding onto a lifeline. "I care about you, y/n," he said. "So much. You mean the world to me. But…" His voice trailed off, and he looked down at our intertwined hands.

I swallowed hard, trying to find the words to respond. "It's okay," I said again. "I'm glad you're happy." I forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as fake as it felt. "I'm sure you'll be great together."

There was a long silence as we sat there, our hands still clasped together. The air around us seemed to thicken, growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, Bill let go of my hand, leaning back in his chair with a deep sigh. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I really am."

I forced a nod, not trusting myself to speak. My heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest, but I didn't want to make a scene. I didn't want him to feel any worse than he already did. "It's okay," I managed to choke out. "I understand."

The waiter appeared at the table, clearing away our plates and asking if we were ready to order dessert. Bill glanced at me, his expression pained, as if he were debating whether or not to even partake in this final course. Finally, he shook his head. "No, thank you. We're done here."

I held back tears, knowing that his words more literal than they seemed, and I rose up from my part of the booth, exiting the restaurant swiftly.

#bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #itsmealaiah #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x you

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vaguesxrrow · 11 months

Note

Can you maybe do from 911 a buck x celebrity!reader? Where something happens during her concert (a fire on the stage or the stage breaks and she falls down with it and is buried under it) and Buck is a fan of the reader and has a celebrity crush on her.

I dont know i had this idea stuck in my head and didnt see anyone writing something like this!

tysm for the ask! and ofc, here you go! hopefully it's what you had in mind :)

cinderella

evan buckley/reader

tags: female reader, fluff, flirting, technological and medical inaccuracies, use of y/n, buck being awkward and not knowing how to act around reader

cw's: swearing

wc: 1,190

reader is a famous singer, and also buck's celebrity crush.

You adjusted your outfit as the backstage crew bustled about, looking in the vanity mirror. You took a deep breath, trying to block out the frantic orders thrown around in the background, as well as worried words being exchanged between coworkers about how the staging had been very "last minute".

Whenever this happened - staging arrangements being rushed - it made you nervous, so you were determined not to focus on it.

You checked the clock on the wall; the audience had probably finished filing into the stadium by now. You listened closely past the talking of the backstage crew, managing to make out the excited chatter of your fans. This gave you a bit more confidence. Your fans believed in you, and you loved them, so you weren't going to let a little performance anxiety get in the way of giving them an amazing show.

Your assistant tapped you on the shoulder. "Miss Y/n, it's time for your entrance," she said, handing you a microphone.

"Thank you. Do I look okay?" you asked.

"Stunning as usual!" she assured. "Now go out there and break a leg!"

You slipped through the curtain and stepped onstage. The second the crowd took note of your arrival, they erupted into screams and cheers. Immediately, a huge grin appeared on your face. You waved with both hands, and blew a few kisses as you made your way to centre stage.

"Thank you!" you said into your mic. "Thank you all of you for being here. I love and appreciate all of you."

The audience screamed in response.

"Before we begin this performance, one last reminder to stay safe out there in the crowd!" you said. "Alright, let's get started!"

The lights dimmed, the music began, and the crowd erupted into cheers once again. However, not long after you sang your first note, you had the chilling sensation that something was wrong.

You looked up just in time to see one of the light fixtures fall. You jumped out of the way just in time, the spotlight missing you by inches. You landed flat on your back on the floor the same time the spotlight did, both of you going down with a huge thump. You vaguely noted that the wires on the spotlight had ripped, and one of them was tangled around your ankle. It appeared to also be caught in the heel of your boot.

Suddenly, you saw a spark, and before you could even blink, the spark evolved into a full-blown fire. You screamed, attempting to scramble away. However, as soon as you got up, you fell again, and a shooting pain went up your leg. Fuck, you'd forgotten about the wire.

"Somebody call 911!" you yelled.

⌦ -- -- Buck's pov

"Tell us more about this fire, cap?" Buck prompted from where he sat in the backseat of the engine.

"Electrical fire at Lavender Plaza. There was a concert happening-"

"Wait, Lavender Plaza?" Buck exclaimed. "That's where Y/n L/n is performing!" His mouth was open in awe, and he turned to look at his crewmates. "Oh my god, you guys have no idea how much I wanted to go see that concert. I'm actually in love with her," he gushed. "Holy shit, is she okay, though?"

"Yes, the victim's name is Y/n L/n. Apparently, one of the spotlight fixtures fell onstage. It's an electrical fire - not too big, but still enough to be dangerous, especially since Y/n is unable to escape due to a wire around her ankle," Bobby continued.

"Guys, we have to go save her," Buck yelled.

"That's what we're doing right now," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney said in unison.

Buck's eyes grew impossibly wider. "Holy shit, I'm about to meet my celebrity crush!" he exclaimed.

⌦ -- -- y/n's pov

You nearly cried of relief when you heard the sirens approaching. The fire had engulfed most of the stage area opposite you, but luckily, you were in the safe zone for now.

The firefighters jumped into action, literally. You coughed at the CO2 from the fire extinguishers. As soon as the fire was put out, you saw a firefighter leap over the spotlight, landing next to you. You vaguely heard someone reprimand him - "Buck! Be careful!".

The firefighter - Buck, apparently - only gave a thumbs up in response.

"Okay, Y/n," he said, light blue eyes looking down at you in concern. "Don't you worry, I'm gonna get you free."

You nodded. "How do you know my name?"

"Buck over here is a big fan," you heard a voice to your left say. A woman with glasses set down a first aid kit next to you. "I'm Hen. Does it hurt anywhere, honey?"

"Um, I think I broke my leg or something, cause it really hurts."

Hen nodded in acknowledgement.

"Alright," Buck piped up. "It looks like the wire is just caught on your boot, so if we unbuckle this thing, you'll be free."

"Oh my god," you said. "Thank you."

"Hey, you're pretty much Cinderella, now," Buck joked as he finished unbuckling your boot. He held it up. "You know, with the lost shoe and all that."

"Does that make you my prince charming, then?" you teased.

Buck blushed, stammering. Before he coukd get out a response, Hen and another paramedic lifted you onto a gurney, wheeling you away.

⌦ -- --

You were breathing steadily into the oxygen mask, just as Hen had instructed you. Then, you spotted Buck making his way towards where you were currently sitting on your stretcher. He was still clutching your boot.

"Hey," you said. "Thanks again for saving me."

"Hi," Buck breathed. "Is this real?"

"Unfortunately for me, yes," you grumbled, casting a forlorn look at your broken leg. You remembered how your assistant had told you to 'break a leg' earlier. The irony.

"Right, no, of course, I didn't mean it like that! Oh god, I'm so sorry!" he rambled.

"It's okay," you laughed. "You just saved my life, I'm probably gonna love you forever, now."

Buck blushed a deep crimson. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked. "This probably isn't an appropriate time, but I mean, your hands aren't broken or anything, so I figured it'd be fine? If you're fine? If you're fine with it, not if you're fine in general, cause you know, you just broke your leg and everything." he snapped his mouth shut. "I'm gonna stop talking now."

You laughed. Looking at him fondly, you took in his features. His very good looking features, you noted.

"I'd love to give you an autograph," you told him. "I'd even give you a picture, but I'm a mess right now."

"I think you still look great," Buck blurted.

"Thank you," you giggled.

"Hey, if you stop by the hospital later, I'll get you my autograph and a picture. And maybe even dinner, if my prince charming's up for it." You winked.

Hen and another paramedic came to wheel you away. The last glimpse you got of Buck was him still staring ahead, a slightly dazed look in his eye and a smile on his lips.

Yeah, he looked like a prince charming to you.

---------

a/n: okay before you start thinking that reader getting caught in the wire is inaccurate, id like to say that ive been trapped under those big wire rope things before when i was younger, and that shit is HEAVY like no joke

#evan buckley/reader #evan buckley #buck/reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x y/n #911 x reader #911 fic #911 abc #911 fox #evan buckley x female reader #sparrow.911

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dilfspitdrinker · 11 months

Text

Let The Light In | Joel Miller x reader

Description: You’ve been babysitting Joel Miller’s daughter all summer. No matter now much you try to deny it, you know you’re into him. But it’s just a little crush that you thought could never be reciprocated, until one fateful phone call. The shift between you two is irresistible, and you’re in for more than you ever anticipated. A/N: I love the babysitter trope lol, also pre outbreak Joel makes me feral. Basically, I couldn't resist writing and posting this, it's lived in the notes app for long enough. Masterlist Chapter 2

Chapter 1

You listened to the rings intently, praying that Joel would pick up the phone but dreading the moment he does.

The fresh night breeze swept over you the moment you swung open the door, exiting the frat house. You didn’t know when it had started raining, but you didn’t care, it was still better than the suffocating atmosphere inside.

Joel answered on the fourth ring, “Hey, is something wrong?” The worry in his voice was apparent, and you couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic for having to ask this.

“I’m so sorry to bother you Joel, I know it’s late but… do you think you could pick me up?”

Before you could even explain yourself, he responded, “Of course I can, where are you?”

You told him the address, watching people stumble out of the door. You wrapped an arm around yourself, as if that could shield you from the downpour.

“Alright darlin’, I’ll be right there, stay put.”

“Okay, please hurry, I’m hoping to leave without anyone noticing-“

Bursting out the door was the guy you came here with, his whole demeanor looking irritated and volatile. He caught your gaze and walked over to you, feigning a more cool attitude.

“Hey, that’s where you went! Come on, the party’s inside,” he tried tugging you along, but you took a step back.

“I’ll be right in, I’m talking to one of my friends,” you attempted a smile, desperate to not provoke his anger.

He raised an eyebrow, “Your friend a chick?”

In a split second you decided that maybe you shouldn’t give any indication that you’re actually asking a grown ass man to come get you. The only response you could manage: “Yeah.”

“Cool, tell her to pull up,” he started walking back towards the door, “and hurry up, I got a drink waiting for you babe.”

Only after he closed the door did you go back to your phone conversation. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?” Joel’s voice turned low and serious.

“The guy I came here with,” you sighed, embarrassed.

“Why’re you hanging around assholes like that?”

“I don’t know, I have a class with him and he randomly started talking to me and he didn’t seem so douchey at first. But I should’ve known he’d be the same as every other frat boy,” you rambled, excluding how he’d been trying to get you to drink since the minute you two showed up.

Joel’s tone softened a bit, “Don’t beat yourself up darlin’. Nothin’ wrong with trying to see the good in others, but that doesn’t mean you should overlook the negatives, either. I’m almost there, alright?”

He’d have to be going at least 20 over the speed limit to be almost here. You were about to insist that he slow down, be careful, if you’re gonna get me I need you to actually make it here. But the rain stopped you from protesting as the chill seeped into your bones. About an hour ago it was such a warm night, you decided to forgo a jacket. Heavily regretted that now as your clothes and hair quickly got soaked.

A few anxious and cold minutes later, a pair of headlights finally approached. You cut through the lawn to meet him as the black pick up truck rolled up next to the crowded driveway.

“Hey darlin’,” he greeted you as you climbed in. God, you poor thing, you looked like a wet puppy, it made him want to wrap you in a warm blanket and scoop you up.

“Hi Joel. Thank you so much for getting me, I know it’s late.”

“It’s no inconvenience to me, I was still awake anyway,” he glanced over at you, adding, “And I’m glad you know that I got you whenever you need me.”

You nodded, suppressing a smile. Once your seatbelt was on, he drove away, and a sense of relief washed over you.

You’d been babysitting Joel’s daughter Sarah all summer, and in that time you and Joel had really grown fond of each other. Not that either of you showed it much. He was your employer, and at least 10 years older than you anyway. At best, you figured he thought of you as family. Still, you didn’t want to push it, since it would be all too easy for the lines to get blurry, and you both knew that. But he clearly cared deeply for you, and would often remind you to call if you need anything, anytime. And tonight was the occasion. You’d only convinced yourself to dial Joel’s number by telling yourself that there wasn’t really anyone else you could call. You were still new to Austin, and hadn’t made any solid friends yet this early in the semester. Sarah was pretty much your best friend now, and Joel…

It was a conscious effort to keep him at arms length.

He broke the silence, “So, I didn’t really think frat parties were your thing.”

“They’re not. I was barely there for an hour and already looking for a way to leave,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. At least I knew not to drink anything.”

“Very smart. Good job looking out for yourself there.” You noticed the way his calloused hands gripped the wheel. “That guy, does he know where you live?”

“Yeah,” you swallowed, thinking of the same worst case scenarios.

He paused for a minute, hoping this wouldn’t come out the wrong way, “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I don’t want you staying at your place alone tonight. You can stay at mine, I’ll set up the pull out couch.”

The truck came to a stop at an otherwise deserted intersection. A left would lead to his place, continuing straight would take you to yours.

He turned to you, “What do you think?”

The suggestion caught you off guard. The thought of sleeping at his place filled you with a sort of nervous excitement, like you were about to do something you shouldn’t. It definitely felt like you’d be overstepping a very delicate boundary. But he offered, so it would be no harm, right?

“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” he added, voice earnest.

The light turned green. He waited for your response.

“Sounds good,” you nodded.

The truck took a left turn, and you two were silent for the rest of the ride.

At his house, you stood in the living room, feeling strangely out of place. You had been here so many times to look after Sarah, but being here without that purpose made you feel like an awkward guest.

Placing his keys on the coffee table, Joel said without looking at you, “Alright, you go take a shower, warm up. Take as long as you need.”

The statement made you red in the face, but you weren’t about to refuse. You’d had a shitty night, you needed this.

In the bathroom, you winced at yourself in the mirror. You were a bit of a mess, and became newly embarrassed that Joel had to see you so disheveled. Your hair was soaked from the rain, and you knew that would make it dry all frizzy. Couldn’t hurt to wash it, even though that would take some extra time… Joel did just tell you to take as much time as you need. But you already felt a little opportunistic for agreeing to stay the night at his house, you didn’t want to take advantage of his hospitality by hiking up his bills. You sighed at your reflection. Your clothes were dark with rainwater, and peeling them off made you shiver. Take as long as you need echoed in your mind. The way his voice had turned so gentle made you shiver too.

You turned the knob until the water was nice and steamy. Sweet relief. Felt like a warm hug. Don’t think about Joel hugging you. You took a look at the shampoo options. A bright pink bottle with a unicorn on it, obviously Sarah’s. Smelled like an artificial fruit salad. The bottle next to it was dark green, the label declaring cypress and mint. You went with that one, trying to ignore the fact that it’s Joel’s shampoo. Something about that felt a little too intimate.

Then came two gentle knocks at the door, followed by his voice, “I set out some dry clothes for you in my room. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You sighed contently. You scrubbed your hair clean, soap and worries washing down the drain.

His room was right next to the bathroom, and out of sight from the kitchen. Wrapped in a towel, you scampered over to the bedroom.

There you saw some folded clothes set on the corner of the bed. Somehow it didn’t occur to you before that it would be his clothes. You slipped on the sweatpants, the extra fabric bunching around your ankles. The sleeves of the hoodie covered your hands entirely. Not allowing yourself to indulge your fantasies, instead you were a little mortified about this whole situation. You almost didn’t want to step out there and face him. But you had to, thinking it would be weird if you stayed in his room any longer.

As if to avoid creating a disturbance, you treaded lightly down the hall and rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was sitting at the small dining table, and quickly lifted his eyes.

He could hardly believe the sight before him. His clothes hanging loosely off your shoulders and hips. Hair still damp, framing your face. Straight out of his daydreams. Every time you came to look after Sarah, he secretly loved your little outfits and hairstyles, but you’ve never looked this good.

“Can I throw these in the dryer?” you asked, holding the bundle of your wet clothes.

His voice caught in his throat for a moment, “Of course-“

You already turned to do it yourself before he could offer. In the minute you were away, he noticed his heart beating faster than it should, and scolded himself.

Returning to the table, you eyed a plate of food that you hadn’t noticed before. “What’s all this?” you asked.

“Uh, sorry, it’s just leftovers, but I figured you might want something warm.”

You looked at him tenderly, voice soft, “Oh, Joel. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Taking a seat, you noticed that he sure was of course-ing all over the place tonight. You stared down at the reheated chicken and rice, wondering if he was uncomfortable.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the way he leaned in before asking, “You alright?”

You smiled a little, “Yeah, I just feel kinda bad for making you take me in.”

“You’re not makin’ me do anything.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his. God his eyes were gorgeous, just his stare was enough to charm you.

“Any plans for the rest of the weekend?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Well if you’re not busy studying, I’m sure Sarah would would love to have you around. I’ll be here too, but I’ll still pay you.”

“You paying me just to hang around now?” you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning.

He chuckled, shaking his head. You finished your plate while you two talked about Sarah, her new friends, her plight with fractions. This felt more familiar, more comfortable.

He frowned, “Lately when I’ve been dropping her off at school, some boy is always there waitin’ to say hi.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that Joel. They’re like 12.”

“I know, it just gets me thinking about what it’ll be like when she’s in high school.”

“Cross that bridge when you get there.”

He sighed. “I just wish I knew what to expect.”

In that moment, you realized that this might be his roundabout way of opening up to you. You could only imagine how difficult it must be to navigate single fatherhood, especially having a daughter.

He cleared his throat. “I know this is none of my business, and you’re right, I don’t need to be worrying about it yet, but… do you have any boy advice for me?”

You laughed, maybe a little too loud, “You’re asking the wrong person, Joel. I’m not super experienced in that field.”

A playful glint appeared in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “What? Come on now, you’re too pretty to not have at least 10 boyfriends.”

You caught that, but shook your head.

“You tellin’ me you weren’t prom queen?”

“I was too dorky for that,” you waved him off.

“Well,” he leaned back in his chair, and your eyes skimmed over his broad shoulders, “here’s my boy advice for you.”

“I’m listening,” you grinned.

“Don’t hang around boys.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded, “so you’re saying I should go after men.”

He caught that, but dodged the implication. “Well, I’m sayin’ most of these college guys are still boys in here,” he tapped on his forehead.

“You’re telling me.”

He grabbed your now empty plate, and announced while placing it in the sink, “The room’s all yours when you’re ready.”

You looked at him with confusion across your face.

He motioned toward the hall, in the direction of his bedroom.

It finally dawned on you, he meant he’s going to sleep on the couch. Immediately you protested, “Joel. Come on. I’m not taking your room, the couch is fine-“

“No, no, no. This is not up for debate,” he pointed at you, “You need a good night’s rest.”

“Joel I’ll sleep fine on the cou-“

“I’m not fightin’ you on this.”

You stared at each other for a moment, a stand off you knew you’d lose. You finally cracked under his unrelenting gaze, but had to make one last effort, “You’ve done more than enough for me tonight.”

“I’d do damn near anything for you,” he couldn’t stop himself from confessing, but he almost didn’t care if it meant you’d take his bed. He’d never admit it, not even to himself, but he wanted you there, and not just because it was courteous to offer. To know that you were wrapped in his sheets, head cradled by his pillow, your breath filling his space.

You let out a sigh, “Fine.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to drag you.”

You chuckled, and in your mind flashed an image of him picking you up and tossing you onto the bed, oh God he’s so strong he could do that so easily-

You banished the thought, pulling yourself back to reality, but another idea invaded your mind. “Thank you so much Joel. I really owe you for this.”

“You don’t owe me nothin’. I’m glad you know that I’m here for you.”

If this whole situation hadn’t already overstepped a boundary, this certainly would, but you really couldn’t help yourself. You took a step forward, pulling him into a hug. Every nerve in his skin suddenly became hypersensitive to the feeling of your hands on his torso, moving to his back. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, then froze. You smelled like him. You, in his clothes. You, with his scent. You, in his arms. He could only hope that his heart wasn’t beating too loud.

You pulled away from each other, hands lingering a second longer than necessary.

“Sleep tight, darlin’.”

“You too.”

“And sleep in as long as like.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you want an extra blanket or anything-“

“Goodnight Joel,” you laughed, walking away from him finally.

When you closed yourself into his room, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You both laid awake for a while, having the same doubts, ruminating on words, body language, tone, meanings that may or may not have indicated something else.

You tried to be objective. He’s naturally generous, kind hearted beneath a bit of a rough exterior. He was instinctually nurturing, look how devoted he is to his daughter. Besides, with her to look out for, he wouldn’t want some silly college girl. He takes his responsibilities as a father very seriously and as far as you knew, he avoided things and people that would disrupt her life.

You’re a sweet girl, he reasoned that you hugged him because that was your nature and nothing else. One night at his place didn’t mean anything beyond what it was: you called and he answered. He knew nothing would come of it, ridiculous to think anything would, really. Young, promising college students like you don’t go involving themselves with middle aged men with children, not unless the man was rich, which he definitely wasn’t.

These thoughts kept you both awake, so finally you each relented to the more hopeful side, even if it was just a fantasy to doze off to.

Cheek pressed against Joel’s pillow, surrounded by his scent, you sleepily indulged in the thought that he treated you special because he felt a special way for you. Maybe he’s even protective of you.

Hand tucked under a cushion, he entertained the idea of you knowing that you want a man who wouldn’t waste your time. Someone who has some real experience in the world and knows what they want.

He was starting to think that insisting you spend the night was the worst idea he’s ever had.

Chapter 2 Masterlist

#joel miller #tlou #pedro pascal #joel x reader #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou hbo #joel the last of us

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edosianorchids901 · 4 months

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Glimpses of the Moon

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "wing hug"

Shivering, Crowley paced the ramparts. He took a few deep breaths and tilted his head back, hoping for stars. But clouds blotted out all but a glimpse of the moon, heavy grey stifling all else. Typical.

A biting wind sliced through his heavy clothes, and he gritted his teeth against the chill. Being out here was really not a good call right now. What was he thinking?

Well. He was thinking he really didn’t want to have a panic attack in the stone maze of the castle. Running around desperately, unable to find his way out…

“Crowley?”

Startled, Crowley turned around to look at the sliver of light emerging from the dark stairs. “Angel? What’re you doing here?”

“Being cold, for one thing.” Aziraphale hugged his arms around himself and shuffled towards Crowley. “It’s a ghastly night.”

“Well, at least it’s not raining.” Crowley glanced at the low, dark clouds. “Yet, anyway. Did you need some fresh air?”

“I did not,” Aziraphale said, coming closer. He paused beside Crowley, lips pressed thin. “But when I got back to our room, you weren’t in bed. I thought you said you were tired?”

Crowley shrugged. That was the downside to their little Arrangement sometimes. They traveled together, usually stayed together. It cut down on expenses and made life a lot less lonely. Unfortunately, it also made it harder to hide when he was struggling. “Nnnh. I did need some fresh air.”

“It’s awfully cold air. Not the sort of air you normally enjoy.” Aziraphale gazed up at the faint glow of the moon, now all masked by the clouds. “I don’t mean to pry, but… did something happen?”

“Not really.” This would make more sense if it had, if he had a real reason to be this agitated.

And if it was something he could explain. Oh, Satan, how could he explain to someone who had never been in Hell? Heaven wasn’t any more friendly, true, but the oppressiveness was more of the “no one notices you exist” variety rather than the crushing, writhing mass of bodies in the halls…

Crowley’s legs buckled, his breath catching, and he grabbed the wall for support. The cold stone numbed his hands instantly, which was the opposite of helpful for grounding himself. He struggled for air, but there wasn’t any, it was all closing in—

“Crowley?” Warm hands caught his arm, holding him up. He wheezed, throat closing. “Crowley, what’s wrong? Why are you breathing like that?”

“I… it’s…” Oh Somebody, he couldn’t breathe at all now. He struggled to focus on Aziraphale, on the warmth beside him, on the familiar smell. Everything about Aziraphale was so, so familiar. “I’m claustrophobic.”

“Um.” Aziraphale rubbed his arm, soothing, but glanced around with a skeptical look. “Crowley. We’re outside.”

“I know we’re bloody outside”, Crowley snarled. “That’s why I’m bloody outside. Those damn stone corridors, they’re so narrow, and I got lost…”

His breath caught again, pressure banding around his middle. It crushed down, pain throbbing through his chest and ribs. He grabbed at his heart, suddenly so dizzy that he might have toppled over if Aziraphale hadn’t been holding onto him.

Which would have been really, really bad considering he was leaning over the edge of the ramparts right now. This was his worst idea ever. Last thing he needed was another fall.

He stumbled away from the edge, hyperventilating, and Aziraphale moved with him. “Hush now, it’s all right. I’m right here, Crowley. You’ll be okay. You don’t have to talk about if it it’s too hard.”

“It’s not… it’s just hard to explain.” But if he was talking, maybe he wouldn’t be able to think about Falling. “Hell’s crowded. Corridors everywhere. Flickering light, like the torches. Lots of areas are stone. Easy to get turned around. Might never find your way out.”

His teeth chattered, and Aziraphale wrapped an arm around him. Then Aziraphale wrapped something else around him too.

Crowley looked at the bright white feathers in shock.

“I suppose getting lost in the castle was a bit too much like being in Hell?” Aziraphale asked gently, wrapping the other wing around him too. The feathers cut off the cold wind. “Does this happen often?”

Crowley growled vaguely, looking away. Yes, it happened often. More often than he liked. “Usually, being in cramped spaces just makes me uncomfortable. I mean, I know the castle isn’t cramped exactly. Bloody massive. But the corridors everywhere, not being able to find my way out. Sets me off.”

“You felt trapped.”

“Hn.” Being up here wasn’t helping much, not with the oppressive clouds, but it was still better than being stuck inside. “I just needed some space, s’ all. Too bad space is covered up, eh?”

He managed to make it sound like a joke, but Aziraphale gave him a knowing look nonetheless and mantled him closer. “This isn’t making you feel trapped, is it?”

Crowley glanced at the feathery wings hugging him, then shook his head. “Nuh, it’s like wearing a cloak. Warm.”

“Ah, yes.” Aziraphale studied him. “I suspect a proper hug would be different though, hmm? A bit too restrictive?”

“Probably, yeah. For now. But this is good.” And weirdly calming. Crowley leaned against Aziraphale, breathing a little more easily now. “Oop, look. Got the moon back, at least.”

He pointed to the break in the clouds, and Aziraphale followed his gaze. “Ah, yes. You see, Crowley? Space is still there.”

“Yeah.” Crowley smiled, gazing at the sliver of moon and a handful of distant stars. “It is.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #art #ace omens hugfest 2024 #ace omens

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simplydannie · 2 months

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Velvet & Veneer Fanfic

“We Got This”

Continuation of my small fic here

Those at the detention center learn about the truth of where the twins are from. …And they weren’t going to let a couple of rats from the under city run the place. Little do they know, the twins have learned to hold their own.

After the scene in the cafeteria that one day, the twins were known… and feared… throughout the Rageous Detention Center. Funny, for being snot-nosed, pop star wanna-be, brats, they sure knew how to defend themselves….and that’s when word got out.

….Velvet and Veneer were from the under city of Rageous…. The slums, the lower class. It was the talk of all of Mount Rageous, and now, it was the talk at the detention center…. And this was something they weren’t going to let slide. Rats from the under city owning them? Standing up to them? They were afraid of rats? The head bullies at the center began plotting.

To avoid trouble, the twins isolated themselves from everyone else. In the courtyard, they sat on a bench far off from the rest of the crowd.

“UGH!! Who told? How did this get out!” Velvet screamed. There it was, in big bold font across the papers:

Latest Pop-Frauds From Under Rageous: Typical Desperate Wanna-Be’s

“Well they ain’t wrong.” Veneer replied reading a letter…. It was from Floyd. He wouldn’t admit it to his sister, but the little Trolls letters is what’s been helping him pull through this whole mess.

“Seriously! You’re seriously chill with this?” Velvet asked in surprise.

“We are from the under city AND we are frauds. Just accept it Vels.”

“NO! You know how much worse that makes us sound! Besides, they’ll send us back! Those from Under Rageous always go back!” Velvet crumbled up the paper, tossing it across the courtyard.

“… I don’t think so.” Veneer responded.

“How do you know?”

“I just…. I just do.” Veneer looked up to see a group of teens headed their way… and they didn’t look happy.

The group encircled the twins, allowing for no escape. One of them was the thug kid Veneer left a heavy beating on that one day in the cafeteria, his nose still bandaged. Out of instinct he got in front of his sister. The twins looked around… no security, no one…. They were completely alone.

“Caaan we help you?” Veneer asked suspiciously. Velvet eyed the group standing behind them… they were completely closed off from any possible escape.

“So you guys are really rats from the gutter aren’t you?”

“Only one who looks like a rat is you.” Velvet responded with a snarky grin.

“Rat has a tongue. Can I have a taste?” One boy winked at Velvet.

“Eat dirt.” She replied. Veneer elbowed his sister. They tried not to get involved in any trouble, but somehow trouble always found them.

“We’re leaving you alone, so just leave us alone.” Veneer stated.

“No I don’t think so. You guys come up to the top, wanna-be pop stars fooling everyone. Now you slum dogs want to try and fool us here. Thinking you own the place.” One boy a foot taller than Veneer shoved him hard on the chest.

“You guys came at us!”

“I bet you guys aren’t tough enough to handle us on your own. You’re not always going to have each others back. Split them up!” One girl called out.

The two taller ones of the group grabbed each twin by the arm, pulling them in opposite directions. Velvets eyes went wide as she saw them pull Veneer away, heading behind some bushes and out of sight. He caught a glimpse of her.

“We got this.” He mouthed before disappearing with a group of thugs. Velvets heart raced. It’s my fault, it’s my fault if he gets hurt, she thought as she looked at the group still surrounding her.

“We’re not afraid to hit a girl. But you really aren’t one, are you RAT?” A boy chimed with laughter. Velvet took a deep breath. Oh how she wanted to sock him in the mouth.

“….Call me rat one more time.” She said through clenched teeth. The boy leaned in closer.

“Rrrraaaaa-OW!” She kneed him right in the groin. A girl standing behind grabbed her by the ponytail, yanking her to the ground. As she fell, other kids gathered on top of her pinning her down. They took a few swings, landing some on her stomach, her ribs. She clenched her teeth.

Velvet has been in this situation before. She’s felt this pain… she was sure her brother had too… she could handle it, she could handle it. She calculated her next moves as they continued to strike her body…..

CRUNCH!

She freed her foot and kicked someone square in the nose. She heard the cry of pain. Again using her free leg she stretched and kicked again, not aiming, just striking wherever she can. Velvet then stretched her legs over, using them to flip whoever was holding her arm down.

She heard cries of pain coming from behind the bushes where they took Veneer. Velvet could only imagine what they were doing to him… this was her drive, her motive…. The only person who could boss him around was her.

Velvet was eventually freed, but that didn’t stop the people around her from trying to get her. She took them all one by one, kicks and punches, head kicks and jabs. Velvet was determined not to let them undermine her because of where she was from, she had no intention of going back unless it was from her own free will.

The commotion suddenly stopped and silence drifted in the air. Every one of the bullies was hunched over on the ground hurt and groaning in pain.

“Like I said: call me rat one more time and see what happens.” She kicked a random body causing them to cry in agony. A few bruises here and there, she could feel it, but nothing she couldn’t handle. “Veneer!”

Velvet ran towards the back of bushes.

“Veneer!- OOF!” She collided straight into another body, the force sending her towards the ground. Velvet looked up to find the person she ran into was her own brother.

“Oh my god Veneer!” Not knowing what really came over her, she hugged her brother, she hugged him for the first time in forever. Veneer dare not say anything… it been so long since he had someone hug him… he forgot what it was like… so he enjoyed this moment, that is until Velvet snapped out of it.

“Idiot! Whatdid you let them do to your face?”

His eye was swollen and bruised, a cut on his upper lip.

“I didn’t want to strike first.” He replied. “But eventually I did.” They both turned to see the damage he did: more groans of pain, perhaps a few broken bones.

“They call us rats but they really have no idea.” Velvet spat on someone on the ground next to her. “Come on. I’m sure they’re going to blame us and send us to the isolation ward… again.”

“They’re not going to be fair to us anymore… if they can’t send us back down, they’ll make it worse for us here. You know that right?” Veneer asked limping away with his sister.

“Like you said…we got this right?” She smiled looking to her brother.

“Ya, we got this.”

“Velvet and Veneer!” A voice called to them as they neared the doors.

“Ya we know. Isolation ward. You don’t have to tell us twice.” Velvet rolled her eyes and scowled.

“Wait what? What did you guys do now?” The security asked them.

“Nothing.” Veneer was quick to reply, but his bruised face and limp gave him away.

“… We’ll deal with that later. You guys have a visitor.”

The twins perked up…. Veneer began jumping up and down uncontrollably, he knew who it was already.

“Some little guy named Floyd.”

#dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #velvet trolls #veneer #fandom #velvet and veneer trolls #velvet #trolls fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #short story #siblings #mount rageous

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madeintheniamh · 1 year

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record shop rescue

stmf one shot #11.

album release date is coming up, but there is no stopping Harry's teenage daughter from going out, even if that means getting caught up with the press. luckily, Harry is always there to save the day.

a/n: for my wonderful best friend becca. thank you for this amazing prompt (i wouldn't have been able to think of it myself lol)

warnings: fluff & dadrry, bit of teenage angst thrown in

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright on your own?”

“Yeah, I just need to try and find something for my Dad,” Lottie replied. “I’ll be fine,”

When the girls were younger, it was easier for you and Harry to keep them safe from the press. You were in control of where they went and who could interact with them- but those days were long gone, with Tilly already learning to drive and Lottie coming close to sitting her GCSEs. As much as it scared you, you both knew that you couldn’t always safeguard their teenage lives, despite wanting so hard to keep them in your tiny family bubble. When album release dates came up, it always seemed to get more extreme, and whilst Tilly had learnt from this, there was no way that 15-year-old Lottie was going to scrap her plans just for the sake of the press who in her own words, had ‘ruined her dad’s life’.

It was a busy Saturday afternoon on Carnaby Street- she knew that. But within the crowd of people, she didn’t notice the group of paparazzi following her- until she closed the front door of the record shop and turned to look behind her, the flash of a camera reflecting off the glass window like lightning, only it was a clear spring day. She hoped desperately that they were following someone else and gave them time to disperse themselves whilst going up to the till after finding a Fleetwood Mac record for her Dad- but all that actually happened was that the frequency of the flashes increased.

“Oh my, it really is true,” The girl serving her gasped, clocking onto Lottie’s shocked gaze, her eyebrows furrowed in the same way that Harry’s did when he was confused by something.

“What’s true?” Lottie laughed slightly whilst slotting the record into her tote bag.

“You’re Harry Styles’ daughter, aren’t you?”

Lottie blushed slightly. “How did you-”

The banging on the windows only got louder as she turned around to face the cameras.

“Christ alive,” She gasped. Lottie wasn’t usually one to be frightened of anything: whilst Tilly was much more of a nervous overthinker like you were, Lottie followed on from Harry, having a very chilled out perspective on life. But in that moment, as she bit her lip, she began to feel a pit growing at the bottom of her stomach. There was no way she was getting out of that shop by herself.

---

“Daddy, please,” she muttered, listening to the dial tone on her phone for longer than she would have hoped. Finally, a deep muffled voice answered.

“Hey princess, you okay?” Harry exhaled, his voice still tainted with tiredness after a long day at the studio.

“No,” Lottie sobbed slightly.

“No? What’s happened, baby?” He said, his tone changing suddenly to a panicked one. Lottie barely ever cried, and whenever she did, it always meant that something was very wrong.

“I don’t know what to do Dad,” She began to cry. “I’m in this record shop, and all these paps are waiting for me outside, and I’m trapped in here, and I-”

“Don’t cry, baby,” He sighed. “I’m coming, okay? Send me your location on text and I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

----

The rover juddered slightly as Harry put his foot down far too quickly when he pulled off the drive, his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, dark Gucci sunglasses shielding the frown that was on his face. You and him had always agreed that no matter what, you would never let them upset your little girls. They’d crossed the line.

Harry almost knocked out one of the men standing next to the car as he opened the door after he had parked up at the side of the road. He didn’t care. He could only just make out his daughter’s shaking frame through the distorted glass windows, her eyes widening as she noticed him making his way through the crowds of people outside.

“Hey Harry, is it true that one of your daughters is dating Louis Tomlinson’s son?”

“Fuck you,” he grunted as he pushed the door open.

As soon as he put his arms around Lottie, she burst straight into tears, black mascara trailing down her face.

“Hey, now,” He breathed softly, running a hand through her long brown curls. “It’s all alright, I’m here now, you’re safe,”

“I can’t,” She sobbed. “Go out there,”

“Well you’re going to have to at some stage, aren’t you poppet?” He sighed. “But you’ve got me with you, okay? You just stay close to me and keep your head down, okay? Here,”

He took off his sunglasses and put them on her face, tucking her hair behind her ear as he did.

“You don’t even have to look at them, see? Now let’s get you home,”

He tucked his coat around her as they marched through the crowd, and he quickly opened the car door for her to get in, before he got in the driver’s seat and rolled down the window.

“Harry, why are you being so aggressive? Something’s bothering you? Your marriage?”

He rolled his eyes. “You stay away from my daughters. Follow me around all you want, but you stay away from my girls, you hear me? They didn’t sign up for this,” He shouted, before closing the window.

Harry turned around to take in Lottie’s wide-eyed gaze, rubbing soothing circles across her back, rain beginning to lash at the bonnet of the rover. Her body sunk into the leather passenger seat slightly at his touch.

“I’m okay, Daddy,” she whimpered slightly. “Just wasn’t expecting that,”

“I know baby, and it’s not fair, is it?” He sighed, gazing at her over the top of his sunglasses. “I’m sorry you have to go through all of this because of your Dad and his silly songs,”

A small smile graced her lips, dimples forming on her cheeks in the same places as Harry’s did.

“They’re not silly, Dad,” she giggled. “I love them,”

His green eyes lit up. “You do? What were you doing in a record shop, hmm?”

“I can’t tell you,” She laughed, putting her hand over her mouth to reveal her green painted nails. “I got you something, I’m not telling you any more than that,”

“You didn’t need to do that, poppet,” He smiled. “But I am excited to see what it is,”

She smiled slightly again, as he reached over to kiss her cheek.

“Lottie baby, remember a while back when me and your Mum said to you about going out when I’m releasing new music,”

Lottie grunted slightly. “Daddy, I’m not a prisoner, I want to go out,”

“I know you do, babygirl,” He exhaled. “But all I want for you is to be safe when I’m not here, okay? So please, promise me that you won’t go out on your own, not until this blows over a bit,”

“But Tilly can-”

“I’ve said the same to your sister,” He cut her off. “I know you hate it, and I would too, but I don’t want these crazy people to be following you and making you upset again, hm? It breaks my heart, so you need to promise me, okay? Just for a little while,”

She frowned at him, her lips pouted, and he mimicked her face, before breaking into a smirk, and she began to laugh again.

“Okay, fine, I promise,” She moaned.

He took her hand in his, holding it up to his lips, before kissing it softly.

“Thank you, Lottie baby,” he smiled. “And if something does happen, you know I’ll always be there, don’t you?”

She nodded, now beginning to fiddle with the radio stations on the dashboard.

“I love you, Lottie baby,” he beamed, before turning the keys in the ignition and setting off, leaving the crowd of cameras far behind them.

---

poor lottie :/ being a teenager isn't easy, but especially not when you're the daughter of a celebrity. luckily he isn't just any celebrity :)

have a request for this series? my inbox is always open! i post new one shots every week <3

the link to the slipping through my fingers masterlist is here:

#dadrry #harry styles dad #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #stmf

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inairbinad · 1 year

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I Don't Think It's Contagious

5.3k words, also on ao3

Just some Pre-Season 2 Platonic (obviously) Stobin-centric fluff because they deserved to be friends sooner. With Steddie and Buckingham pining sprinkled in. All part of my magical fairy dust AU where Barb lives. Never Quite as it Seems helps to set this up, but it's not necessary to read first.

Life had gotten weird for Robin in the tail end of her sophomore year at Hawkins High. Weird because not only had she and Barb revived their friendship, but eventually Barb also confided in Robin that she was a lesbian, and dating Nancy Wheeler. It was the first inkling that Robin had ever gotten that she might not be terribly alone in this godforsaken town, which was nice, if not wildly surprising. Then, to top that particularly stunning revelation off and to really make Robin feel like maybe she’d lost her mind, she ended up friends with Steve Harrington, of all people.

The revelation that Steve was capable of caring about people other than himself had come one dragging afternoon in the spring of '84. One minute things were normal; Robin was minding her own business and trying to get her shit from her locker and get out of there as quickly as possible. The mundanity got tossed like a salad, however, when Tommy H and Carol decided they wanted to cause a scene and harass Steve for deigning to talk to Barb. It seemed less about Barb, and more like she was just unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire of the ongoing chill between Steve and his former minions. No one really knew why the three of them were on the outs these days, beyond the fact that back in November, Steve had abruptly started hanging out more with Jonathan Byers than he ever did Tommy H. anymore.

Robin watched the whole exchange while half-hiding behind her locker door, flinching at Carol tossing the d-word around, and then nearly having a stroke as Steve stood up for Barb. Even though Carol had just loudly declared for everyone to hear that she thought Barb had stolen Steve’s girlfriend. Steve shrugged it off, and said he’d rather be friends with Barb than the pair of goons that had followed him around like puppies for as long as Robin could remember.

That night, Robin tried to call Barb for the first time in years just to check on her. Whether what Carol had said was true or not didn’t really matter, and at the time Robin had no idea either way. Regardless, she felt the keen sting of being called out like that in front of a huge crowd of people, feeling the blow hit a little too close to home. Barb hadn’t answered her call, but Robin couldn’t exactly blame her there, either.

Then Steve and Barb had showed up the next morning, blasting We Are Family through the windows of Steve’s fancy car, and the former King had cemented his new reputation. No longer was he known as royalty, or The Hair. No, now he was Steve “Dyke Defender” Harrington, and he apparently wore that badge proudly.

It was enough to make Robin wonder if maybe there was something more to Bagel Crumb Boy.

Eventually, Barb got back to Robin, and they started talking again like no time had passed at all. Not only because eventually Barb admitted to Robin that the rumors about her hadn’t exactly been wrong, but also because Robin hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having Barb to talk to. Even though she hadn’t been brave enough to come out herself, yet, she knew Barb would be in her corner regardless, and that gave Robin a sense of peace she’d never really known before.

————

Now that it was the fall and she was starting her junior year, most mornings Robin woke up trying to make sense of how her life had changed so drastically. After a summer of hanging around each other thanks to the persuasive powers of Barb, somehow Robin had reached the point where she could consider herself Steve Harrington’s friend. That was surprising enough on its own, but she also liked him. He was funny, and they had startlingly similar senses of humor, and he really seemed to give a shit about Robin and her feelings, which was new.

Somehow, by complete accident, she’d ended up in a group of friends that felt like kindred spirits.

Before Robin knew it, she was in a world where she sat next to Steve Harrington at lunch every day, laughing at his corny jokes and watching him try to flirt with whatever girls still liked him, post-dethroning. There were still a lot more of them than Robin thought were strictly warranted, but that might have been her old friend jealousy perking up to say hello.

Today was different, though.

Today Steve was hung up on a boy. Or several, rather.

“Did you and Jonathan have a fight, or something?” Barb asked, following Steve’s gaze to where Jonathan Byers stood in the lunch line. Robin assumed that, like most days, he was only briefly stopping by to grab his food before taking it somewhere he wouldn’t have to interact with people much.

Sometimes Jonathan sat with them, too. But usually he used their lunch break to decompress and go take photos of something before he got thrust back under the fluorescent lights and rigidly dull boredom of a classroom.

It was one of the reasons Robin found Jonathan wildly relatable.

Robin still wasn't sure how exactly the little foursome of Steve, Jonathan, Nancy, and Barb had ended up being the best of friends, seemingly overnight, but she was pretty sure she'd get the whole story eventually.

“What?” Steve asked, startling at the sound of Barb’s voice alone, even though she was nearly talking at a whisper.

“You’re staring,” Barb pointed out. “And looking kind of miserable about it.”

“Oh. Well,” Steve chewed his lip, then quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the four of them any attention. They weren’t, because they were largely irrelevant, as far as social circles went. “We didn’t have a fight. I’ve just been having some…thoughts.”

“Dangerous,” Robin quipped, and Steve shot her a half-hearted glare. She took a little bit of pride in watching how the corner of his mouth twitched into a tiny smile all the same.

“What kind of thoughts?” Nancy asked, though she had that look on her face that she got when she already knew the answer.

“The kind that make me wonder if I’ve been hanging around you two too much,” Steve muttered. Robin snorted, knowing exactly where this was going.

“I don’t think it’s contagious, dingus,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. Although, even though Robin wasn’t out to any of the others yet, she did wonder if maybe their collective queerness drew them together like a magnet.

“What is?” Barb asked, not yet up to speed.

That was another thing about Steve—he and Robin seemed to ride the same wavelength at all times. Whenever the two of them thought something was obvious, it usually took an extra explainer for the others.

“I just think he’s cute, is all,” Steve sighed, and Barb’s eyes went wide. Not because they hadn’t talked about Steve’s realization that he was also attracted to boys already. They’d actually spent a good chunk of the summer on that revelation, particularly on rather scorching days spent lounging at the pool while Steve stared agog at most people who walked by. He’d ask Robin, ironically enough, if he was crazy when he found a particular guy attractive. She’d done her best to pretend to have taste in boys, in the name of being supportive while staying safely ensconced in her own closet. Nancy's way of showing support, by contrast, was doing enough research to convince Steve that being bisexual was, indeed, a thing.

Today, Barb merely seemed surprised to hear Jonathan’s name mentioned in the context of Steve's thoroughly examined sexuality crisis.

Nancy started easily nodding along, taking in Jonathan’s profile from afar. Eventually she said, “I can see that."

“You can?” Barb asked her girlfriend, her surprise growing bigger still.

“Yeah,” Nancy shrugged.

Barb stared between Steve, who was absently picking the crust off his sandwich and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, and Nancy, who was obviously trying not to laugh at Barb’s reaction. Finally, Barb landed back on Steve.

“You want to date Jonathan?” she whispered so low that Robin could barely even hear her, despite the fact that they all had their heads bowed together across the width of the lunch table.

“I didn’t say that!” Steve countered quickly. “I just…am noticing more, now, who I think is cute around here. Or letting myself notice, I guess.”

“Who else are we talking?” Robin asked with her eyebrows raised. She was honestly still flabbergasted that this was even something Steve talked with her about at all, given that she wasn’t out to him yet, either. But apparently all of her gay friends seemed to trust Robin to keep their secrets. It was enough to make her wonder if they had some idea about her, anyway.

“I mean, that new guy is hot,” Steve admitted as he leaned back in his chair. “He seems kind of like an asshole, though.”

“Definitely is one,” Barb muttered. “He’s already got Tommy and those guys hanging off him.”

“Right, see?” Steve huffed. “That's why I’m very much in a look but don’t touch mode right now.”

“Really? There’s no one at all you’d want to shove into a locker and make out with?” Barb asked. She had a glint in her eye that let Robin know Barb already had a candidate in mind, and she just wanted Steve to own up to it. The way Steve glared at her before determinedly starting at his sandwich again told Robin that he knew that, too.

“Okay, fine. Maybe this guy in my English class.” Steve mumbled it so thoroughly that it all came out as one syllable, though. Barb and Nancy immediately turned to Robin for her to translate.

“This guy in his English class,” Robin obliged, enunciating to the best of her ability.

“Say it a little louder, Rob,” Steve grumbled at her.

“Okay, dingus. THIS GUY—” she started at an absurd volume, but Steve clapped a hand over her mouth with a truly tortured sounding sigh. It perked Robin up innumerably.

“You should talk to him,” Nancy suggested, cheerfully redirecting them with practiced skill.

Steve was already shaking his head, though. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Barb asked.

Because even if he did, he runs the risk of getting shoved into a locker himself, but in the bad way. And probably much worse, if he’s too obvious about it, Robin thought cynically. She kept her mouth shut, though.

“Because he probably hates me,” Steve said.

Robin rather sourly admitted to herself that this was likely true, too. At least, it probably was if this guy hadn’t already been one of King Steve’s worshipers. And if he was one of those, that likely meant he didn’t deserve the actual Steve that Robin had come to know.

Weird, Robin told herself. She still couldn’t adjust to liking this guy enough to think he deserved the best a boyfriend or girlfriend could give him. But she did.

“Why would he hate you?” Nancy asked.

“Because most smart people around here do,” Steve said glumly. “And he’s really smart.”

“Um,” Barb cleared her throat, then leveled Steve with a stern look. “You’re sitting with possibly three of the smartest people you’ll ever meet, Steve. None of us hate you.”

“But you all used to,” Steve pointed out flatly.

“And now we know you,” Barb argued. “And that changes things. Right, Robin?”

Barb kicked her under the table, and Robin jolted up out of her slouch.

“Right!” Robin agreed. Even though she wasn’t entirely aware of how to deal with this new version of Steve Harrington, she had begrudgingly admitted that she actually liked him a lot quite a while ago. “You’re much less of an asshole than I thought.”

“Thank you,” Steve deadpanned.

“You’re welcome,” Robin said in as chipper a tone she could muster. “They’re right, though.”

“About?”

“The mystery man,” Robin clarified, even though she couldn’t believe she was doing it. This felt like playing with fire, but the funny thing about that was that it still warmed her heart. “If you talk to him, get to know him, he won’t hate you. Maybe he already doesn’t.”

————

After school, Robin was having particular trouble wrestling her bike lock open. She really needed a new one, but she also couldn’t afford it. She was about thirty seconds from giving up and walking when Steve crouched down beside her.

“Need some help?” He asked, flashing that annoyingly charming smile of his at her before he got to work unsticking the lock. He didn’t wait for Robin’s reply, she noticed. She didn’t argue, though, instead choosing to watch the way some of his stupid hair flopped over his forehead while he freed her bike from its prison. The lock finally popped open with a click. “There.”

“Thanks,” Robin said, taking Steve’s offered hand as she dragged herself up off the ground. He held on to her for just a fraction too long, probably aware that Robin took at least an extra two-to-three seconds to get her bearings compared to everyone else.

“No problem,” Steve smiled again, then leaned against the brick wall of the school. Robin tensed. She only ever saw Steve lean against things when he was flirting. “You want a ride? We can go get some ice cream, or something?”

“Um,” She stalled, now seeing his helping hand and the gentle grip on her waist in an entirely different light. Especially when he kept smiling at her like that. “What happened to the guy from English class?”

“What?” Steve asked, pinching his eyebrows together in confusion.

Robin didn’t quite feel like waiting for whatever telepathic thing they had going on to kick in, so she just said it outright.

“Just because I don’t think you’re a douchebag anymore doesn’t mean I think we should date, is all,” Robin managed to get out.

“Um,” Steve scratched his neck and let out a small squeak of a laugh. He looked almost apologetic, and Robin realized she’d probably taken a wayward turn, somewhere. “I wasn’t asking you out. Just thought we could…hang out. Like friends do? Like we do?”

“Oh,” Robin said, feeling like an idiot all of a sudden. She’d gone and had a minor freak out just because Steve leaned against something. She thought maybe the only way to stop the mad awkwardness spreading like a virus through her mind was to tell him the truth, and soon. It was starting to make Robin paranoid, letting people think she was straight. Which was ironic, because it used to be the other way around.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded with a small smile. “Oh.”

Robin shuffled her feet uncomfortably, feeling like maybe she owed him an apology now, but Steve saved her the trouble.

“So. Ice cream?” he asked again, still wanting to hang around her for some reason.

“Sure! Right. But, um,” Robin chewed her bottom lip. “What about my bike?”

“It’ll fit in the trunk,” Steve shrugged, then nodded in the direction of his car, inviting Robin to follow.

“How come I’m the only one you let eat in here?” Robin asked around a mouthful of mint chip, twenty minutes later. They were sitting in Steve’s car in the parking lot of the local ice cream shop, since Steve insisted their cookie dough was better than anything Dairy Queen could come up with. “I’m the clumsiest person you know, waving the messiest thing you can eat around your leather interior.”

“Buffalo wings are the messiest thing you can eat,” Steve corrected her with a grin. “Or maybe crab legs. Not ice cream in a cup.”

“Okay, rich boy,” Robin groaned. “Answer the question.”

Steve rolled his eyes at her and shoved another spoonful of ice cream in his face before he bothered to reply.

“You might be the clumsiest person I know,” he admitted without fanfare, “but I also happen to like you the best.”

“What?” Robin asked, nearly choking. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Steve scoffed like that should have been obvious to Robin. It totally wasn’t, though, especially since he wasn’t trying to hit on her.

“Why?” she blurted.

“You’re cool,” Steve started, but had to pause in light of how loudly Robin snorted. He didn’t argue with her disbelief, though. He just kept going. “You’re funny, you’re crazy smart, you’re always honest, and you don’t fuck around with people’s feelings. I’m always laughing with you, even when no one else gets our jokes. You’re kind of my best friend, Robin.”

Robin really didn’t know what to make of that, except for the fact that she was surprised to find she felt the same way. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t give him some shit for it, though.

“Oh, am I?” She asked, tone teasing.

“Yes,” Steve grumbled. “Am I not yours?”

“Pft,” Robin blew out a puff of air. “Not even close.”

“No?” Steve gasped, putting on a pout now.

“Nope,” Robin said simply.

“Not even top five?”

“Eeeeh,” Robin wobbled her hand midair, like maybe Steve could tip the scales if he tried harder.

“You’re meaner than I thought,” he said flatly, but couldn’t hold a grin off his face for too long. Neither could Robin.

“You’re nicer than I thought,” she countered. Steve chuckled to start, a soft appreciative little laugh. But then they made eye-contact and lost control of themselves. They tumbled into silly, senseless laughter, just spurring each other deeper into whatever they both found so hilarious in that moment. Robin wasn’t even sure that she knew, beyond maybe being on a sugar high. She only knew Steve’s laughter was contagious.

It always made her feel lighter, to be around him like this. So by the time they both calmed down, she decided to be upfront with him.

“I haven’t really had a best friend,” Robin admitted. “Not for a long time, anyway. Maybe not since Barb, the first time around.”

“The last best friend I had was a dickhead, so,” Steve lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “maybe they're overrated.”

“They’re not,” Robin disagreed, hiding a smile by staring down at the spoon in her hand. Eventually she was brave enough to look back up at Steve, to find he looked both confused and hopeful all at once. It was pretty cute, in an overwhelmingly platonic sort of way. “You’re mine, too, dingus.”

Steve’s smile was all-encompassing, taking over his whole face in an instant. Robin still didn’t know how to handle the little bubble of warmth in her chest that it gave her, so she gave him an affectionate punch on the arm, and changed the subject.

“Speaking of which. Do you have notes from Click’s class?” Robin asked of the only class they shared together. For the second year in a row, the powers that be at Hawkins High decided that Steve and Robin were on the same skill level for learning history. Robin wasn’t sure what that said about either of them.

“Um, no?” Steve answered, surprised like it was the first time someone had ever asked him for notes. “No one’s ever asked for my notes, before.”

Robin bit down on a laugh, not wanting him to misconstrue it as her thinking he was stupid when it was really just his voicing her exact thoughts again. They’d only declared each other to be best friends all of a minute ago, but Robin knew Steve was sensitive about that. In fact, she was kind of surprised he didn’t have notes.

“How is that possible?” she asked. “You’re constantly writing in that class!”

“Doodling, mostly,” Steve laughed. “Why don’t you have notes, smarty pants?”

“Oh, I haven’t been paying attention in there all semester,” Robin answered a little too quickly. Now she’d have to come up with a reason for that, because Steve was absolutely pursing his lips to ask.

“Why not?”

“No reason…” Robin hedged. Just because they were best friends didn’t mean she was quite sure how to admit that she liked girls, and that Tammy Thompson so thoroughly distracted Robin that she turned into a bumbling buffoon at every turn. For two semesters running.

Steve could have pressed it, Robin even expected him to, but he took his time finishing his cookie dough before saying another word. Then he surprised her.

“Want to know a secret?” he asked, smiling at Robin conspiratorially.

“Obviously,” Robin said.

“The guy from English? He’s in history with us, too,” Steve admitted, and Robin felt her eyebrows shoot off her forehead and into orbit. She barely had time to squeak before Steve continued with a worried look on his face. “Don’t tell Barb or Nance, though. Barb already suspects who it is and if she finds out for real she’s gonna make me talk to him. Like that would ever go anywhere.”

That was a lot to process, but Robin didn’t really feel the need to make it clear she understood the concept of a secret. Of course she wasn’t going to tell anyone else. Instead, she asked, “Why are you so hellbent on thinking this guy hates you?”

For some reason, Steve’s mouth pinched right after Robin said hellbent, and she thought there might be a clue to suss out there. She started sorting through her mental Rolodex of everyone else that was in that class with them. The problem was she rarely paid attention to anyone but Tammy in those hours, let alone any guys. Usually Robin’s lens of focus was limited to the chain of her staring at Tammy staring at Steve. Apparently she’d have to extend that to see who Steve was staring at, too.

Robin picked at the last dredges of her ice cream and wondered if maybe anyone would ever stare at her.

“It’s not just that,” Steve sighed. “I mean. Even if he doesn’t hate me, and we end up friends? It’s not like I can actually shove him against a locker and make out with him.”

“Well, maybe not with anyone around,” Robin amended.

“What are the odds of him being into dudes, too?” Steve let out a bitter laugh. “I mean, really. This is Hawkins.”

“I wouldn’t make too many assumptions there, Steve,” Robin all but whispered. Even knowing she was about to tell Steve the truth, all of it, and knowing she was safe to, Robin still felt her throat closing up around the words.

“Why not?” Steve asked softly, not missing how her demeanor had changed for a second.

Robin took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush.

“Because apparently there are more of us around than I realized,” Robin said, turning to give Steve a tight smile. She managed to keep her tears from spilling over, which she counted as a win. Robin sat there, holding her breath and waiting, as Steve paused to absorb what she was saying. At first Robin thought she hadn’t been clear enough, but Steve mouthed the word ‘us’ to himself, and his eyes widened as he put the pieces together.

“Oh,” he breathed, before breaking out in another little smile. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Robin nodded. She felt like her whole body was full of pins and needles.

“That’s cool,” Steve mirrored her nod, smiling at Robin like she really was his favorite person. It finally made her relax again.

“Thanks,” Robin chuckled. "I know you're a staunch defender of us lesbians."

"That's me," Steve deadpanned, but offered Robin a wry smile. She reached across the center console to ruffle his hair, relishing the relief of having finally said it aloud to someone flooding through her. Steve made an affronted noise, quickly turning to fix his hair in the mirror, and Robin just laughed at him harder.

“Is there anyone that you want to shove up against a locker?” Steve parried once he felt he had his pride and joy back under control. When Robin’s only response was a groan, his eyes lit up again. “Ooooh! Who!”

“Nope,” Robin rejected this idea on principle, shaking her head furiously as she did.

“Oh, come on,” Steve whined, really pouting now. “I’ll tell you mine!”

“I already know yours,” Robin scoffed, bluffing. To compensate, she rolled down her window and threw her empty ice cream cup into the trash can they were parked next to. Then she folded her arms across her chest and tried to give Steve a stern look.

“Nah,” Steve shook his head after narrowing his eyes at her for a beat. “You don’t know.”

He was right, of course, but Robin was sure she could figure it out if only she gave it enough thought. So she stared Steve down, thinking about the kind of people she already knew he found attractive. Nancy, for one, but that wasn’t entirely helpful considering he tended to like any pretty girl. He did tend to skew towards brunettes, though. Then of course there was the Jonathan revelation, which was interesting. Robin would have assumed Steve liked more polished types, like him. But the new guy, Billy something or other, wasn’t exactly preppy, either. His whole vibe screamed badass, even if it wasn’t necessarily in a good way. There were better options for pretty but with leather in Hawkins, even Robin had to admit.

Then Robin remembered how Steve’s mouth pinched when she’d said hellbent. Almost like he thought she might say hellfire. She broke out in a victorious grin, already knowing she had Steve figured out.

“Eddie Munson?!” she half-shrieked. Even if Robin hadn’t already been sure, the way the tips of Steve’s ears turned pink would have convinced her.

“How did you…?” He didn’t even bother to finish the sentence, opting instead to stare at Robin, mouth agape.

A whole litany of examples of proof came flooding into Robin’s mind at that point, like that bit of information clicking had opened a door to all the shit she must have subconsciously picked up on and filed away when she was wondering what Tammy Thompson’s lip gloss tasted like.

She was happy to list them for Steve’s benefit.

“You stare, for one,” Robin said, ticking off fingers. “You laugh at his obnoxious jokes, even when no one else does. I’ve seen him make you blush, more than once, come to think of it. And you kind of have a type.”

Steve just kept staring at her, without objection. Robin thought maybe she could stun him out of his silence, since that was how she’d put him in it in the first place.

“For what it’s worth? I think you have a shot,” she said. Robin didn’t know much about picking queer men out from a crowd, obviously, but Munson spent a whole lot of his time paying attention to Steve, too.

That only seemed to stun Steve further, though. He grunted, sort of, though it sounded a little bit like a whimper. Then he turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. It didn’t seem like they were headed anywhere in particular, but Robin didn’t mind.

After a few more minutes of silence, Robin was starting to worry that she’d broken his brain when Steve finally spoke again.

“You don’t have to tell me who you like,” Steve said simply, rescinding his earlier demands. It seemed like he was actually starting to drive in the direction of her house, now. “But I am glad that you told me about you.”

“Me too, dingus,” Robin said. It was possible she’d never meant anything more sincerely.

By the time Steve pulled up beside the curb outside her house, Robin threw caution to the wind.

“Tammy Thompson,” she admitted aloud, for the first time ever. Somehow it was more nerve-wracking than telling Steve she was gay at all.

“What?” he half-yelled, twisting around in the driver’s seat to face her. “How? Why?”

“She’s pretty!” Robin defended her taste as much as Tammy. She kind of thought that would have been enough for Steve, but he was still eyeing her skeptically. So she added, “And she can sing.”

“She sounds like a muppet, but okay,” Steve drawled.

“She does not!” Robin exclaimed. Despite her indignation, she couldn’t quite keep the laugh out of her voice. Steve caught it, and laughed with her.

“She totally does,” he chuckled, then tilted his head at her. “I totally thought you were gonna say someone like…I don’t know. Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Chrissy Cunningham doesn’t even know I exist,” Robin said scornfully. “Talk about playing above my league.”

Steve was wildly shaking his head back and forth, though.

“Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope,” he said. “No talk like that in my car. You’re very much worthy of a Chrissy Cunningham. Plus, even if she doesn’t know you now, I bet she’d want to. She likes everybody, as long as you’re not a complete asshole.”

“So does that mean she hates you, then?” Robin opted for the joke instead of continuing to debate the merits of her switching to crushing on everyone’s favorite cheerleader.

“Asshole!” Steve volleyed back at her with a laugh.

“And me too, apparently,” Robin grinned.

————

Robin still didn’t have any notes for Mrs. Click’s class, so she was really trying to focus on anything but Tammy, and Steve, and now Eddie, so she could actually take in some of this crap she had to memorize long enough to repeat it back on a test.

It wasn’t going great, because now she was invested in the Steve and Eddie story line. Particularly since they were passing notes back and forth at the moment. Every time Steve bit his lip or tinted slightly pink, Robin was dying to know what they were saying to each other. But every time she kicked the back of Steve’s chair to try and get his attention, he shooed her off and went back to scribbling out a reply to Eddie.

Eddie, for his part, seemed equally affected by Steve, as he frequently slouched even lower in his chair or hid a smile behind his ever-growing hair whenever he read one of Steve’s replies.

They were almost sickeningly cute. She was happy they were getting along, at the very least, but it seemed like flirting from where she was sitting.

“Oh, you’re asking for it, big boy,” Eddie said then, looking up from whatever Steve had written last with a little bit of astonishment in his eyes.

Robin rolled hers. Definitely flirting.

Even though she was happy for Steve, it still sent a pang of jealousy coursing through her. She wondered if Steve was just abnormally lucky, or if she wasn’t looking in the right places for a crush that might acknowledge her. When she realized she was drifting away from the point of this class again—history, not finding a girlfriend—she gripped her pencil so hard it snapped the tip off.

Groaning aloud over it, Robin leaned over to try and find another one in her bag. Before she got it fully unzipped, though, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

Robin looked up to find none other than Chrissy Cunningham smiling down at her over the edge of her desk. Robin stared up at her for half a beat too long, noticing how Chrissy's signature ponytail dangled over her shoulder and gave Robin a lungful of the citrusy smell of her shampoo.

“Here,” she said, offering Robin a spare pencil. Hesitantly—probably too hesitantly—Robin reached up and accepted it. She was pretty sure she was gaping at Chrissy’s having acknowledged her, though, because Chrissy laughed a little nervously.

“Sorry, I was staring a little,” she whispered. Then she paused, eyes widening, and course corrected. “At your bracelet, I mean! It’s really pretty, by the way. Um. So I noticed the—” Chrissy stopped to mime snapping a pencil in half, adding a little cracking noise along with it.

It was adorable enough to be a whole new kind of distracting.

“Right,” Robin managed a smile that she hoped was friendly and not completely creepy. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Chrissy smiled again.

This time, Steve had to kick Robin’s desk to get her to even remember what world she was living in.

#platonic stobin #steddie #buckingham #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #fanfic #dani's drafts #petals!verse

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tegerton · 1 year

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Dude, duuuuuuuuuuuuuuude! Does anyone even remember me? Sorry for the very long hiatus, but I’m dipping my toes back into fanfic writing. Hopefully I’m not too rusty. What better way to come back with trying out an original story, that’s right this bad boy is coming from my head.

You can all thank @justsomerandomfanfic for waking me up. Seriously, thank you so much for liking my writing. It means the world (I thought my writing was pretty bad not gonna lie haha) but I am so glad I can make someone’s day with it! Apologies in advance. Please let me know if I should add any specific warnings! Hearts, reblogs, and comments are lovely!

I am going to try and attempt a GN reader x Eggsy (please let me know if I need to fix anything)

Eggsy x GN Reader

Word Count: A little over 1k

Warnings: Implied fighting and not so great friends (it’s not too bad tho)

It was supposed to be just a chill night out with some friends at a rather less crowded bar. Yeah it was anything but that. Once the words “Manners, maketh, man.” were thrown into the mix and all bets were off the table. Various objects like tables, chairs, and umbrellas went flying as their eyes scanned to find various things.

1. Find a safe exit (The front doors had been barricaded shut, but there’s got to be an emergency exit somewhere in this dump).

2. Stick with the people you know.

3. Get out.

After a few close attempts the group decided to book it for an exit that was in the back of the little kitchen in the bar. The friends left in a hurry not giving their final remaining friend a clear plan.

“Thanks guys! Thanks for not TELLING ME THE PLAN!” The tone was in the midst of transitioning from rather annoyed to fearing for their life. But rather than hearing screams and carious grunts the room was eerily silent. It’s at this moment that they realized someone just saw their outburst. Turning to face the one man army they noticed the umbrella that had been previously used to take out at least half of the patrons in the bar who are currently laying on the ground. “Put the umbrella down.” The rather well dressed man slowly followed orders as he gently placed his Kingsman umbrella onto the floor. “Now, unlock the doors.” With some loud clicking the entrance was now unlocked. “Ok I’m going to leave.” It was an agonizingly slow exit as they never turned their back on the stranger.

“Sorry I ruined your night out.” Once his accent came out their heart dropped just the tiniest bit, it didn’t help that he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck exposing a rather good physique in the muscles of his arms.

“No, do not try to play the cute guy card with me.” Their hands pressed onto their hips as the shortness of breath from the entire situation finally caught up. A strained sigh came over as the lights reflecting off the rainy pavements were not helping.

“The cute card?” His hands fixed his suit as he finally exited the bar smoothly opening the umbrella right over both of their heads. “I’d rather say I’m just charming in general.” His wink was met with a side eye. “Alright I kind of get the sense that maybe I did something wrong.”

“Hmmmm I’m not sure let me go ask someone in the bar if they know,” It was the fake walk back to the bar that made him chuckle. “Oh yeah that’s right, they’re all passed out!”

“Would it make you feel better if I said I was Batman or something?”

“Batman doesn’t fight crime dressed like Bruce Wayne.”

“Batman isn’t Bruce Wayne.” The seriousness in his voice just made the joke even better. Their eyes rolled with a smile as a well deserved slug was met on his shoulder. “Let’s start over,” He offered his hand for a shake. “Eggsy.”

“Eggsy?” The bridge of their nose scrunched up in thought. “I haven’t been in the UK that long but I will admit that’s the most unique name I’ve come across so far.”

“Well my real name is Gary but I go by Eggsy!” His face was beaming as he explained the story of his nickname. On the other hand the poor bystander was just wanting to go home.

“Yeah that’s really cool and all but I kind of need to get home.” It was their polite yet desperate grimace and the shuffling of feet that made Eggsy connect the dots. Maybe don’t go straight for someone you’re interested in right after making them think they were your next victim. The string of muttered curses that left his lips made it hard to not fall deeper into the surprisingly chill and trendy guy. “Y/N, forgot to tell you. That’s my name.” Finally learning the mystery person’s name gave Eggsy a little faith that he wasn’t a complete failure with charming someone.

“That has to be the weirdest name I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh shut up!” In what would be the weirdest of situations the two found light at the end of the tunnel, a blossoming friendship that Eggsy only dreamed would turn into something else only with time. “No but seriously I have work at 7AM, I need sleep.”

“Do you need a ride?” A part of Eggsy was holding onto hope that the offer would be accepted but he knew the chances were slim.

“As much fun as that sounds, I drove here.” Y/N held up their keys as they pressed the lock button a couple of times causing the car to beep back. “Thanks for the offer.” The night was cold as they rubbed their hands together. “I hope to never see you pissed off at a bar ever again.” A cheesy smile was plastered on their face as Eggsy’s face flushed slightly but due to the cold weather he was able to hide it.

“Yeah hopefully next time we meet, it isn’t like this.” Y/N’s head turned towards him as they laughed a bit.

“What do you want my number or something?” The laugh died fairly quickly as they noticed the look on his face.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed.” He gently kicked a nearby rock. After a quick number exchange the two finally went their separate ways. Y/N noticed the number scribbled on the back of some business card as they slipped it over for further inspection.

“Kingsman?” Some store they had never heard of as they just got in their car and headed back to their apartment. Opening the door their roommate came barreling through giving them a hug.

“Oh my gosh, I was so worried when we lost you at the bar!” Y/N’s shoulders slumped into the hug.

“Yeah you guys were real worried alright.” The tone and sentiment were definitely called for especially since nobody even reached out to help. Not wanting to give it the light of day Y/N just went to their own little room and locked the door. That whole friends thing was for another day, but not now.

The next morning was uneventful as their shift went by with nothing really special happening. Not a bad day, not a good day, just a day. But hey at least the customer’s weren’t the absolute worst today.

“Can I clock out?” The manager slightly jumped in her seat not noticing their hire, engrossed in their emails.

“Oh yeah, thanks for your help.” And with the okay to leave it was a race to find somewhere to get food. With food on the brain, they almost passed something until a shiny golden logo caught their eye. It was the Kingsman store, Y/N took a peek through the window to see what exactly was being sold there but was met with Eggsy who sat across from another man dressed up just like him.

“No way.”

#taron egerton fanfiction #eggsy unwin #taron egerton #eggsy imagine #eggsy x reader #kingsman eggsy #kingsman fic #kingsman fandom #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman fanart #taron egerton fanfic #taron egerton fic #kingsman #kingsman secret service #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman golden circle #kingsman the secret service #gary unwin

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brighteyedbushybrowed · 1 year

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𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 Of course Mary has a revelation about your relationship while you're drunk. It's very typical of him, really. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 "Dance with me?" 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Mary Goore x GN!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 No smut here. Reader has been drinking. Mary has basic human decency to not take advantage of that. Some grinding briefly but Mary puts a stop to it. Small TW for reader throwing up near the end of the fic. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 967 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 This is a short one tonight boys as I'm in physical pain, v tired, and couldn't bring myself to write a longer piece because of it. I've done my best to make sure I've not used gendered terms or pronouns for reader but if I have lmk and I'll fix it ASAP! 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

House parties weren’t really Mary’s thing. It’s not that he never attended them or got invited, he just never had anyone to go with. The only reason he was in attendance at this particular house party was because he knew you’d been invited, and you’d need someone to make sure you got home safe. After all, who better to walk you home than your loving partner of eighteen months?

“H-hey. Hey. Mare.”

They smiled at your approach, the relaxed grin on your face making Mary wish they had their phone out so they could take a picture. “What’s up, buttercup?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Who’s got butter in the cup?”

“Nobody. Don’t worry about it. Did you need something?”

That smile was back again. “Dance with me?”

Something else that wasn’t really Mary’s thing: dancing. Mary didn’t dance. He moshed. He headbanged. He got knocked around in the pit at gigs and wildly swung his arms around to the music. He didn’t do dancing. You knew as much too, but you were clearly tipsy and the way you looked at them with wide, excited eyes was enough to let that slide for the night.

“Lead the way, babe.”

Grabbing his hand, you led Mary to the crowd of god knows how many people grinding against one another to some thumping, bass-heavy music. He tightened his grasp, fingers intertwined so that you wouldn’t lose each other. The moment you were both submerged in the sea of bodies, you turned to Mary with a smirk and he knew he’d made a mistake in letting you drag him into the crowd.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Come on now.” His words fell on deaf ears as you pulled him close and began to dance, hips swaying and bodies far too close to one another to be innocent.

Well, shit.

You placed your partner’s hands on your hips, gently grinding against them to the beat of whatever song was playing. Mary wasn’t sure. Mary also didn’t really care what the song was either with the way you were deliberately grinding on them. A momentary jolt of anxiety flashed through his body as he glanced around, frantically trying to make sure you weren’t being watched. His cock gave a little twitch at the thought of being caught if you were both to dry hump in front of all these people, but something felt wrong. Very, deeply wrong.

Placing his hands on your hips to still you, Mary hissed. “Hey, we should stop.”

“Huh?” You blinked at him, eyes wide. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Shit, no, baby, you’ve not done anything bad. I just don’t think we should be doing this in your current state.”

“But I’m okay! I’m perfectly happy, Mare!”

Smiling, your partner pressed his lips to your forehead and pulled you into a hug, swaying the two of you in place. Your movements were completely off beat and off tempo, but Mary didn’t care. He couldn’t care less if the whole room was gawking at you both.

“I’m sure you’re very happy, but we shouldn’t be doing that while you’re drunk.”

“But I’m not drunk! Pinky swear!” you huffed, making them chuckle and rub your lower back. “Come onnnn, let’s daaaaance!”

Instead of dancing, Mary turned you and began to lead you out of the crowd and into the night air. You gasped at the sudden chill outdoors and Mary shrugged off his jacket before draping it over your shoulders and placing an arm around your waist.

“Let’s go, buttercup. I’ll make you a nice mug of hot chocolate and then we can go to bed. Sound good?” he suggested, kissing your temple as you began the stroll home.

You immediately perked up at his words. “In the Gar-fuck mug?”

Mary laughed. Of course you wanted it in that mug. He’d never lived it down when he tried to make a Garfield mug in pottery class, and it came out looking like a complete mess. It didn’t even look like Garfield, which was what made it even better. It’s also what made it your favourite mug to drink from, so much so that it now just lived in your kitchen instead of his.

“Yes, you can have it in the Gar-fuck mug. I’ll even throw some cream and marshmallows on top for you.” He couldn’t help but grin at the raucous cheer you unleashed, your head tilted up towards the night sky. It was in that moment, watching the sheer (if somewhat intoxicated) joy on your face because you got to drink from the shitty mug he made, that a profound realisation struck him. It just sucked that he was having this realisation now while you were under the influence.

Licking their lips, Mary pulled you in close. “I love you. So much.”

You stopped walking then, the two of you grinding to a halt as you moved to stand in front of them and watch their facial expression. You searched their face, eyes darting from their cupid’s bow lips to the dash of freckles on their cheekbones to the shape of their nose and eyebrows. The quiet extended further and further, both of you gazing at each other’s faces until you finally spoke.

“I love you too, Mary Go–” You suddenly bent over and made a sound that Mary very much didn’t like, the smell and the sudden wet warmth seeping through the tops of his converse confirmation of what had just happened.

“Okay, baby,” he cooed, rubbing your back and easing you into an upright position once you were done. “Maybe hot chocolate can wait for another time. Let’s just get you home and into bed with some water, yeah?”

You just nodded in response and leaned into him as he accompanied you home.

#tw: emetophobia #mushy may #mary goore #mary goore x reader #mary goore x gn!reader #repugnant #fanfic #my fanfic #mine

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amaiguri · 3 months

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The Spring Festival

Forever ago, I wrote this cute out-of-context Spring Festival interlude. But, looking at my outline now... it's gonna have to go. I could alter it a ton to make it fit the new plot. But. It's not ready. So, we won't. Enjoy this fluffy little side story anyway!

(Arlasaire, the Former Thuillean) Diacaius insisted we go down to the docks for the New Years Market. Senator Sipestro had delayed the processing of my papers and I still didn’t have my citizens’ sash. So I was tethered. Metaphorically at first. But then, we got into the thicker crowds of brightly colored tunics and seashell crowns and he seized my wrist and held me close.

I glowered as we stepped into a clothing stall. Leather. Cording. Cloaks. It smelled like new clothes. He dragged me to a table and started looking through it.

Ar: *Thuillean* I can follow you, you know…

Di: *Telethenian* I know. But Arlasaire, I already have a small cabal of Senators breathing down my neck about you — I cannot imagine you’re going to be safe if we get separated. Now, pick something out that you like and I’ll get it for you.

Ar: *Telethenian* …don’t need anything.

Di: No, of course not but it’s traditional to get new clothes to usher in a new year. Besides, look how nice this would look on you!

Ar: I-I’m not going to wear a leather… *Thuillean* harness *Telethenian* around the villa!

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. It was an expression I’d make. Was he mocking me? He grinned but no more than usual.

Di: Why not?

I felt my skin tighten on my left arm. But, as I looked around the shop, the other patrons wore them openly — and over their clothes. I sighed. He wasn’t insinuating anything. It was just… what people wore here.

Ar: In the North, only dogs and rumateurs wear harnesses.

Di: Oh, well, do forgive me, O fair Maiden of Thuille, for offending your Northern sensibilities and suggesting you wear Aftokratorian body jewelry to bring out your eyes and delicate features!

Ar: Stop!

He laughed. My jaw tensed. Deep breaths. He was right about the… body jewelry. The golds and blacks would suit my eyes.

The Svanihk shopkeep came over and wrapped me into it. It secured the white dress around my waist. And fitted the neckline just-so around my clavicles. And when I stepped into the mirror, I looked beautiful. Elegant. Delicate even, as Diacaius had said. It was still a strange sensation.

Ar: …Okay, I like it.

Di: I thought you would. Happy New Years, Arlasaire.

I froze. My eye darted to meet his. But for once, there was no trace of cruelty in his gaze. Another small olive branch. As he would say. He had been giving me a lot of those lately…

Maybe it was time to return one.

He and the shopkeep began to discuss the pricing. I stepped behind a rack of cloaks to break his line of sight… and bolted out the front when I heard him speak. Someone would tell him immediately. I had to acquire a gift before he caught up.

I pushed back into the throng. People touched each other like lovers as they passed—comfortable with strangers in their personal space. Their warmth crawled down my spine. But I bore it. No one else seemed to mind. Earlier in our walk, a stall selling glass baubles caught his eye. He’d stopped at it. Hopefully, something from there…

As I slid into the white draped tent again, though, I realized it was more than just baubles — glass eyes, rings with air sigils, lighters, and other useful things too. And Diacaius was missing one eye. A Mage and all. I pointed to one and pronounced my best Telethenian:

Ar: Excuse me, how much is—?

The shopkeeper twisted—a Telethenian man, clad in black, with thick leather gloves—and leered over me. I fell silent.

Shopkeep: What’s wrong, girlie? Go on then.

Ar: H-How much is this?

Shopkeeper: Too much for your blood.

He spat at me. A chill. I stepped back.

Shopkeep: Get out. And I’ve seen whores wear better “Burned Maiden” costumes.

Whores. Costumes. Of me. No one had ever hated me for being a Northerner… Nor thought I wasn’t me. I tried to say something. But nothing. My throat caught.

I heard a shift in the curtain behind me.

???: Now now, Setoles… don’t bite the girl’s head off.

I whirled. But the click of the shoes. The smell of smoke. The voice. It was unmistakeably Lucienne.

And there she was. I knew she’d come south. I had seen her talking to Diacaius. I didn’t know she’d be here.

The shopkeeper straightened up as Lucienne went and put herself on his arm. Kissing his cheek. I set my jaw. Of course.

Se: Miss Lucienne, to what do I owe the pleasure?

Lu: I was merely coming to pick up the Senator’s order — what are YOU doing bullying the poor Burned Maiden of Thuille?

Se: Oh, this isn’t—

He stopped himself. Looking at me again. Looking at her.

Se: Is she?

Lu: Yes. She is.

She looked me in the eyes. I swallowed. Fondness. Nostaglia. And a mask of superiority.

She undid herself from him and slid up to me next. A hand on my cheek. I swallowed. Barely able to hold her violet gaze. And when she spoke in Thuillean, it was like hearing the sounds of home.

Lu: Hello, Arlasaire.

I said nothing. Nothing seemed to come out whenever she spoke to me.

Lu: What’s wrong? Lose your tongue in the Abyss too?

Ar: I—!

She giggled and ran her elegant fingers over my new jewelry.

Lu: Mmm, this is new… this looks very nice on you…

Ar: I… uh… I’m here to get a present for Diacaius.

Lu: Oh, your new father?

She snickered. I shoved her. Her eyes went wide and the shopkeep stepped between us. There wasn’t a Gil to protect her now. And I didn’t care about the shopkeep.

But she brushed him off.

Lu: But you don’t have a sash. Or a wallet.

…She was right.

Lu: So I’m not sure how you’re going to do that… but, because I’m so kind and generous, I’ll buy it for you and even pay for the fitting, if…

I sighed as she considered how she wanted to torment me.

Lu: …if you get me another meeting with your daddy.

Ar: Please don’t call him that.

Lu: Whatever. Can you do it?

Ar: …Probably.

Lu: That’s not good enough.

Ar: …sure. Yes. Fine.

Lu: Good! Then whatever you want is yours, cutie!

“Cutie.” She didn’t think I was cute. What a bitch. Why’d she have to be so hot?

I found Diacaius sitting at a foodstall immediately across the street, talking to a young girl. I swallowed. He knew. As I walked up, he pat the girl on the head and sent of her off. His silver eye leveled on me.

Di: Arlasaire.

I bit my lower lip. His tone said everything. I made myself small.

And pulled out the wooden box.

Ar: …But I got you something.

Di: Oh? What’s this?

He opened it. I’d picked out a glass eye with golden flecks in it. And it shone bright against its satin packaging.

Ar: I also paid to have it fitted, whenever you want.

He was smiling the same smile he always wore. I swallowed. Was it okay? Did he understand? He looked up slowly.

Di: Does my eyepatch bother you?

Ar: What? No! It’s just… you were looking before. And this one is gold. Like mine. If you wear, we’ll actually look related.

I stared at his shoes then. It was stupid. It sounded even stupider when I said it aloud.

Di: …You, of all people, should know you don’t need to look like your family members.

Ar: I know.

He held it up to the light and then placed it back in the box. It vanished to elsewhere. He placed a hand on my shoulder and stood. Taller than me now.

Di: …You don’t have to pretend to like me anymore. I trust you see there’s a bigger threat to your safety and happiness than my humble self. You’re a smart girl.

Ar: …I’m not pretending.

Di: *Amused* Oh? You DO like me?

Ar: No! …But… We’re working towards the same thing now. I don’t hate you anymore either.

Di: Ah, a marked improvement! I am truly honored!

Ar: Don’t be.

He bellowed laughter and fluffed my hair. Everyone, apparently, liked fluffing my hair.

We set back off through the festival and sent up paper lanterns later that night — sending away the snow and souls of the dead to make way for new life in Spring. He told me to make a wish. But while my heart ached for many things, I wasn’t sure I had anything I wished was different anymore.

#writeblr #writing #dead darlings tag game #creative writing #fantasy writing #amaiguri #yssaia

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