#this took me forty minutes cause i had to listen to the songs before i could continue lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingcold · 6 months

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Welcome to Chapter Eleven and Twelve of Best Laid Plans

A/N: We’re nearing the finish of this sad little story, and getting closer to that happy ending. I appreciate everyone that has taken a bit of their time to read this one. Amanda and Jake are important to me. It’s been a story that came together so naturally and I hope that even though they experience so much heartbreak, that perhaps you can see the good bits that they’ve had as well. Little pieces of happiness and strength and just life.

This is a complete fiction - totally made up. I do not, nor will I ever know Jake or any member of GVF. That said, this story is mine. Please respect that.

@takenbythemaddness deserves all the love here. She really did a lot of screaming at me, but those screams guided me. Thank you my friend.

Content warnings: Language. Alcohol. Hints of sex, and sexual situations. Adult relationships. Talk of old trauma and old trauma caused by relationships.

Word count: approx. 7000

Chapter 11: August, 1992: Amanda POV

The swoon of The Black Crowes filled the air of Sparrow as I moved around, dusting, shifting books on the displays, adding new stock to the shelves. It must’ve been close to midnight. I was belting out “Seeing Things” like it was my entire life. Funny how lyrics can match your spirit coming and going with whatever is happening in your life. I had found strength. I had found life without Roger was better than with him. I had found my smile and the ability to stand on my own. Sparrow was flourishing. And in it all, I became my own woman.

A tap at my door caught my attention, my cheeks blushing over the possibility of being caught singing so far off key, I might’ve found it again. Jake stood, his body leaning down so as to see below the closed curtain.

“Having a party?” he asked lightly as I let him in.

“Naw, just doing chores,” I said as I hurried to the stereo. “You want a beer?”

I held up my two down six pack from the open cooler. He grinned and reached out in answer. I opened my third and took a sip before pausing to listen to the new song roll out of the speakers. Jake grinned. Joe Cocker. Of course. “You are So Beautiful” leaked in the air between us. He laughed as he took a long drink before setting the can aside.

“Come here, beautiful,” he whispered, holding his hand out and sweeping me into him.

I was instantly overwhelmed by his warmth, his sounds, the way he hummed and murmured the lyrics. I pressed my cheek to his chest when he brought his fingers up to stroke my hair. Call it muscle memory. Call it a siren call. Call it whatever the fuck you want but I shuffled my feet in between his in perfect time, just like always. My heart was swelling beyond the capacity of my chest. My very soul was crying out for this man that held me for all of two minutes and forty some odd seconds.

We stopped moving as a stupid restaurant commercial started jingling from the speakers. I felt my throat constrict as his fingers pressed into my back. My brows pinched as I breathed in one more time before I moved away.

“I have missed you,” he said quietly.

I was sniffling and running towards the counter to hide my emotions behind a tissue. Instead of waffling, I plastered my best smile on and shook off the anxiousness of the moment. When I turned back to him, the only thought that struck me was “I desperately want to be yours once more”, but I did not allow the words to dance across my tongue and be spoken into truth. They could remain my dream for now.

“How is Jeanette?” I asked instead, reaching for my can to take a drink.

His mouth scrunched to the side, capturing the hint that ‘us’ was not a topic to discuss. “She’s good. We’ve gotta get-away coming up after Labor Day. Heading up to Sault Saint Marie. Should be pretty.”

I grinned and nodded. “It’ll be gorgeous this time of year. Must be getting serious, surely.”

I turned to grab my duster and to hide my eyes rolling closed. I may not have wanted to broach the topic of ‘us’ but I sure as shit did not want to be talking about Jeanette either. I knew they were dating. I knew they might as well be dating exclusively from what the town gossip rags were raging about.

Jake shrugged. “We are just enjoying each other’s company, I guess. I don’t know.” I shot him a questioning look. “Are you serious? Jake, you two have been ‘dating’ for what, at least 18 months?”

He shrugged again. “She likes how things are right now. It’s comfortable.”

I nodded as I started getting back to work. He chatted about the pending meetings with the Fall Street Fair committee. Of course, I had been approached to chair the group this year, although I am sure I didn’t quite agree to being said chair. It was fine though. I had some ideas to expand things and incorporate a dance to bring in more people to the evening events.

We finished the six pack and Jake left with a wave. Into my apartment, I was sure that I was going to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. Instead, my mind swirled, latching on how he called me ‘beautiful’. How he had held me. It wasn’t that I was not dating. I had been out more than a few times with nice men. They just weren't Jake. I took what I could, selfishly at times. And that was all right. Whatever happened between us - falling back together or remaining friends, it would be enough to sustain me. Probably.

Jake POV

I woke up in her bed. My dream had placed me squarely in Mandy’s arms, but instead, I smiled into the sleepy face of Jeanette. I traced her cheek before planting a kiss to her forehead with a promise of making pancakes for breakfast.

“You’re too good, Jake,” she moaned as she yanked the blankets up to her chin and snuggled in.

She really was a lovely woman. She cared for me in a way that satisfied me. Was it love? In a fashion it was. But it was a shadow compared to what once had been mine. What was still with Amanda. I felt it the previous night. That heat that echoed between us - acknowledged but unnoted. Our steady return to friendship meant everything. I listened to Jeanette as she bumped around on her way to the shower. She was about to be on shift at the hospital for the weekend. I had promised her a good breakfast as well as dropping her off supper tonight. I promised to stay away after that, a request she had to keep her focused as she entered her second fourteen hour shift. She’d just laugh and say that the super bitch would emerge, so best to not see her in that condition.

I heard her calling me from the beyond and I put a pause on flipping pancakes. I grinned as I was met with a mountain of steam and a sigh.

“You need something?” I asked as my fingers wrapped around the shower curtain.

I will admit all I could see was how her fingers ghosted up the curve of her hips to the swell of her breasts, the bubbles of the soap leaving trails down her lush skin. I don’t think I even bothered taking my clothes off before I jumped in with her. But that was what we had. That moment sums up our relationship quite well. Spontaneous. Fun.

“You’ll be busy with the festival committee, yeah?” she was asking as she buttered up her pancakes.

I was nodding as I dragged a towel across my hair. “Not looking forward to it, but it is what it is. Should be good though. We’re bringing back the dancefloor since that was such a hit last year. But instead of a DJ this year, I’ve gotten the Jewel boys lined up to play.”

“Ooo, sounds romantic,” she said before taking a big bite.

“Should be,” I agreed as I reached for my mug.

She followed me out her front door and we parted with a warm kiss, lingering over the glow that we had given to each other. It was easy with Jeanette.

I stopped in Martin’s to get Bugger and Meg set up to start the day before I headed out to the meeting at the hotel. Mandy was already there, her smile wide and filled with energy. She gave me a little wave as she was listening to a group talk at her at rapid speed. I edged the perimeter, making sure I was seen without having to interact just yet. Mrs. Button latched onto my arm and practically dragged me over to her business partner, Mrs. Olsen, with suggestions on flowers and plants that they just needed my opinion on. Mandy had pointed out they just liked me in particular - young, single, and handsome. I smiled as they bubbled over their pictures all spread out in an array of color.

“I happen to like the stonecrops, petunias and hydrangeas, ladies,” Mandy remarked, her eyes on me as she walked up to us. “The bolder the better, eh?”

The two ladies cackled like crows as they began to shuffle through the photos to bring together the suggested fauna. She tucked in close to me, all the while nodding and agreeing - ferns? Sure. Perhaps we need to feature local grown… Coneflowers? How lovely. I stood and absorbed her presence. For the first time in a very long while, I felt it. The gentle tug starting at the very tips of my toes reaching out as her gravity beckoned me.

I sat across from her during the actual meeting. Everything from the grand opening at noon on Saturday to the dance Sunday evening was discussed. The carnival rides would be making a return to the park, and main street would be turned into a walking only venue for two whole days. I watched her as she presented costs and features and alternate plans in case of bad weather. And yet.

The thoughts that tumbled through my mind was the fact that I had been in love with the woman before me since I was seventeen. She had given me direction, motivation, and purpose. She gave me memories and solace when I thought times could not get worse. We knew each other without a singular touch or word between us. I could recall in a fraction of a second every smile, every hushed moan, every ounce of touch she had ever given me. In her current state, she was healing. Her wounds are still visible, but closing. Nearly a year away from Roger had given her inklings of confidence that I had been privy to so long before. Nearly a year, and she was visibly healing.

Jeanette and I had stopped at Babcia’s for dinner when I saw Mandy in the corner booth with a guy I did not know. That was back in April, close to my birthday. I teased her about it the next day. I was given a blush across her cheeks and an instant withdrawal by her, but I will not lie, I was a little hurt that I had not been her first date. I had wondered at the time if she realized it. When I saw her walking into the diner with Adam Walker the following week, I knew. She was trying to find a path away from all of her hurt. Seeking comfort with those she did not have such an extended history with. And that was fine. I could continue to live off our friendship. I would survive on our walled off and restrained notions of love.

Our trip up north had been amazing. Jeanette was truly a partner for my curiosity. We were a good match in our shared interests and we both had a desire to find adventure in the little daily pieces of life. She brought me a smile that I could not deny in that manner. She took me on the lock tour, while I wanted to walk the downtown for window shopping. She dragged me out to hike the park, and I made us go to a few of the taverns. We both enjoyed the music shop and the book store. Not unlike our town, they happened to be side by side.

“I bet best friends do not own those,” Jeanette said, her tone light as we were walking away, her eyes full of warmth.

I had paused at her comment. It was not the first time that she had brought up Mandy in such a fashion. There was no intent there other than to acknowledge the closeness I had with Amanda. There wasn't any suggestion that there was anything other than friendship. I had glanced back at the two shops and smiled.

I had not shared anything of what Georgia had dropped upon me two years prior with anyone. It took six months just to process the information that she had so totally duped me into believing I was horrible for betraying my girl. Jeanette knew enough about Georgia, and the reason I could not stay in the marriage. She had listened to me while I had expressed my doubts that Liam was my child, though in my heart he would always have a residence. I listened to her and her heartbreak. The loss of her husband, Gabriel, in a car accident that had left her hospitalized for three weeks and him in the ground. I guess we were a pair. Each finding solace in the other over the level of loss that had been tattooed on our spirits. We certainly found a way to extend comfort and patience to the other across the many times of need.

Once returned to Frankenmuth, we parted ways with a promise to see each other soon. I was unsure if the committed non-committal thing was what kept me right with her. Or maybe, we were just two similar souls that were in a holding pattern for the next big event that would pull us apart. Regardless, once home, laundry done with a beer in my hand, I was ready to start the work week relaxed.

Morning coffee had turned into Mandy’s coffee since her completion of the coffee bar and treat case. The idea was a hit. She had people waiting for shop opening at eight every morning and the morning pastries were gone within the first hour. I would show up about nine, to which she would have my cup at the ready and a saved cafe table that was closer to the back door. When I walked in the morning after the trip, her face was a mix of relief and question. When I prodded her, she just shook her head and pointed out that she had a new round of biographies that I would be interested in.

The cooler weather was kissing the air and tickling the town. I invited Jeanette to supper at my place a few weeks after our trip away. She brought the wine and I cooked way too much shrimp and pasta, but it did actually come out amazingly. We sat on the deck to eat and drink and laugh. I had put on an album inside so it could drift outside in the background. She looked lovely that night. Her smile was inviting. Her mood was light. So when the question came around, I was caught off guard.

“So, am I just your placeholder for Mandy? I mean, are you just waiting for her at this point?”

“Placeholder?” I repeated the word. The fact that she used it to describe herself struck a chord. “No…? I’m not sure where this is coming from. I just thought we were…”

She puffed out her cheeks before taking a sip of her wine. “Relax, Jake. Just a conversation that I think we’re overdue for.”

“Why would you call yourself a placeholder? What does that even mean?” I asked, still not liking the direction.

She stayed quiet for a few beats that chewed into my system. “Don’t mind me. I think I’m just off tonight.”

I watched her confidence evaporate instantly, leaving her near silent in her rush to leave. “Jeanette, wait. Pardon me being dense here. Why would you think you were a placeholder? Like what we have doesn’t mean anything?”

“Forget it. I gotta get going anyway. I’m on at seven tomorrow morning,” she started grabbing plates and standing up.

I reached out but couldn’t stop her. I grabbed the rest of the dishes and caught her inside the kitchen. “Just stop, please. It hurts that you would think this whole time you thought I was just waiting things out for Mandy. You’ve been very important to me. I thought we…”

Her eyes glistened as she was reaching for her purse and keys. “Jake, now I’m just embarrassed. Please. I’m just going to go and we’ll forget I said anything.”

I caught her around the wrist to stop her. “Jean, hey, stop. Just for a minute. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Really,” she huffed, shaking her head. “It’s fine. Just let me go.”

I watched as she left, pulling out of the driveway quickly to make her escape. I called her place to make sure she got home, but she did not answer. Fuck. I left a quick message on her machine to call me. Instead of losing the night in her skin, I lost the night in thoughts of me not making her feel special enough. For not making her feel like she was important enough. For that I was…. Fuck, I was an idiot.

Chapter 12: October, 1992: Amanda POV

The first week of October had arrived. The carnival trucks rolled into town on Tuesday and the park was being set up quickly for the launch on Saturday at noon. Main Street was being cleaned up and prepped for all the fixings to be set out. The tents had arrived. Assignments and locations were marked and mapped. This thing was ready to launch.

Jake seemed off for more than a few days. Distracted seemed to be a good word for him. I was too busy - words I felt guilty saying even to myself - to stop long enough to check in on him. Instead, we continued our paths, side by side, just like always.

I blinked and Friday appeared. The street was blocked off so shop owners could start setting up their tents along the wide sidewalks. Saturday morning was a flurry of activity. Mick and Robin were manning the shop while I brought on a few extra hands to be in the booth with me. I noticed that Jake was all set, a wide collection of tables set out with old wooden beer case bins holding vintage albums. I caught his eye and gave a wave as I was running down towards the park to make sure the stalls for the Farmer’s Market were in place. It was enough to give me a little flutter. He had his hair pulled back just at the crown of his head, allowing the length that now spilled over his shoulders to hang loose. I might’ve looked a little too long and ran into the flower power girls and their carts of ferns.

Once I untangled from Mrs. Button and Mrs. Olsen, I marched down to the park to see the carnival rides and game row all in place, being given their final safety clearance. The Farmer’s Market corner was lovely and filled with all sorts of cool stuff. At noon, the wagons were sent out for those parked at a distance for free hayrides into the event. The local 4H manned that helm and the kids were given an avenue to talk about their club and animals and whatever the hell else they wanted to.

People were lined up for the late afternoon parade. It seemed like nonstop activity. The high school band led the festivities and the amount of candy thrown was shocking. The evening was ushered in with the end of the parade. The carnival would stay open until midnight, while the shops on main street closed up at seven. In the midst of carrying coolers and pitchers, I caught sight of Jake dragging tables back towards Martin’s. I started to smile until I saw Jeanette appear, stepping into his waiting touch, his waiting kiss. My heart clenched at the sight of how lovely they looked.

Whipping myself around before I was caught, I cleaned up quickly. I could feel the yearning in my skin for his touch. For his singular attention. The way he would clench his jaw as he watched his fingers trace the line of my thigh haunted my dreams. I was on the verge of rupture when I was blessed with Mick stepping out to start helping carry the heavy trays. I retreated upstairs after lights out and put on a CD of something instrumental to fill the air with something other than my lingering thoughts of a man who I had no claim to. Pouring out a cup of hot chamomile, I worked through my night routine - locking the door, washing up, jammies, book, tea and my bed covered with a million cute pillows.

My book landed next to me while my thoughts swirled around. I had dated a grand total of four men - all of them nice. I even slept with two of them. I had nearly forgotten what it was to be desired. Jake had been the first to remind me. Adam had been the second. Chris was just… strange and I’ll leave it at that. No - really. Not strange. That’s the wrong word. It just kind of happened and I was not hurt when I did not feel the need to return that man’s call. But now… My eyes closed as the heat of Jake’s touch crept through my memory. He had a way of making me feel like I could fly. Like I could set the world on fire and he would gladly supply the gasoline. The way he would smile so softly as he explored my body, and how the corners of his eyes would crinkle when I pressed kisses to those places he couldn’t stop the moan from escaping from his lips. Fuck.

I rolled to my side and snapped the light off, discovering the dark only made things worse. I slipped out from the bed with a strangled huff, latching on to my mug and retreating to my kitchen table. My eyes caught sight of a long forgotten navy blue spine with little silver stars that had been carelessly tossed on top of the fridge. In all the crazy of the summer, I had forgotten that Jenni had brought a box of stuff from our room. She was helping Mom repaint and prepare the house for sale. The folks were officially downsizing. Odd to think that our home would be host to someone other than the Fischer family.

I reached and grabbed the journal that I had so brokenly discarded more than a decade before. I chewed the corner of my mouth as I sat down, instantly spilling out a bunch of photographs. I smiled as I pushed them together in a pile with careful hands. My smile began to twist and curl as I looked upon the joy that was stretched across our youthful faces. I looked upon fond memories of days down by the river, cuddle moments in his parent’s basement, a picture snapped of us being total idiots at Miller’s. Each one I could tell you the day, the time, the occasion, the feel, the smell, the tenderness, the laughter that happened. My eyes skated over my tumbled out thoughts and trilled secrets. I re-read passages of hope and love and desires. I giggled over sketchy ideas of what it would be like to have sex with Jake, followed by ‘holy shit’ revelations. It was all there. My eighteen year old self was so right when I said that “Jake was the joy of the sun, the soul of the moon, the river between my toes, the breath in my lungs, the love of my life.”

I paused. I knew what the last entry was. I knew the words that I had scrawled; the tear marks that blotched the heavy paper. I ran my finger over the edge, allowing myself to feel the stain of the memory. To go from such a high of seeing him coming home to see me, to celebrate us, and then to fall to such waste and anger in seconds was enough to make me feel like I had snapped my spine and broke my spirit.

Another moment of hesitation and I turned the page to find that picture of Jake in the red swim trunks, his mouth stretched wide in an open smile. I dragged in a breath. There were the splotches in the ink from my angry, leaked out tears. There was the wrinkled corner from where I nearly shredded the page from the book. I did not read the words that I had written in such a blind rage, but more so took in the heavy slant, the hard press into the paper, the sloppiness, the carelessness… But then at the bottom, my eyes froze. I did not remember writing the last sentences and my heart broke all the more for my young self. “I do not believe with all that is of me that Jake betrayed me. It is just not in him to be so reckless, so thoughtless of what we had as to be with another woman. I don’t care if he was drunk. I just cannot believe he could be so not loyal to us.”

There it was again. A stubbornness to not believe what was, and not heal from the wound that had buried itself so deep. Breathing in, I knew there was still scar tissue, still marks from that first swipe of ‘forever’. Roger had blazed across every nerve ending and exposed brain cells. He had ruined my confidence and eroded my edges that made me - me. I admit, I dwelled on how I had allowed that man to run me over and obliterate what I thought were the best parts of me. I thought I would never heal. I thought the damage done would be permanent. It was not lost on me that this situation had been a repeated one. While Jake’s trespass had been a mistake, Roger’s had been intentional. Intentional harm. Intentional destruction. In order to get beyond Roger’s damage, I had to also recognize the older, persistent trauma that had been entombed in the recesses of myself behind a wall of doubt. Had I allowed my perceived goodness in Jake to cover what had been done? Maybe. A little bit of me still wanted to believe that what Jake had done was not real.

I am totally not sure how I had finally wrestled myself to rest, but I did. Day one of the Fall Festival was a success. Now, just to live through day two. I fixed myself a fast breakfast and was downstairs, setting up for the day within a half an hour. The day was chilly but clear. Mick dragged himself through the door, while Robin flitted in with a huge smile and a breakfast casserole to share. Festivities for the day were more focused on the farmer’s market, carnival rides, and the ending with the dance and live music. I had gotten the insulated pitchers of hot chocolate to the counter when Jake appeared.

“Good morning,” I chirped as I plugged in the big coffee percolators to get to work. “I have coffee inside…”

He grinned and followed me in, a sleepy glance to his tent next door. “We did really good yesterday, Mandy. Everyone is saying that their foot traffic may have been near double of what it was last year.”

I nodded as I poured him a cup. “Taking Jeanette to the dance tonight?”

I hid the internal groan that I chomped down in my throat. Why would I ask that kind of a question other than to divert my thoughts that he would never know were going on in the first place. Damn I am an idiot at times.

“I guess. She’s going with a group and I told her I’d meet her there,” he answered before blowing across the heat of the coffee. “You? Are you taking anyone?”

“Just myself. No one wanted this hot little number today,” I said, shimmying my hips like an idiot. I mean really? Who was this person, for surely it was not me.

He frowned for a moment. Thankfully, Mick and Robin were banging around as they struggled with filling coolers for the day. Of course, Robin shoved a hunk of casserole under his nose to share with Bugger in particular, and Meg. We fell into routine as if both of us just needed to retreat into the comfortable instead of my awkwardness. The day rolled through with lots of visitors from out of town as well as residents. The street music that Jake provided was a fun addition, setting a tone that was light and put people at an ease. The day was feeling its Autumn self - mostly cloudy and a little breezy. We had to rush to refill our hot chocolate and coffee more than a few times. But it was fun. It was fun to see our town awash in pumpkins and flannel and little clear twinkle lights and just everything. It made me love the town all over again. To know I had a hand in it… yeah.

The evening brought our shops to close at five, even though our foot traffic was still heavy. We moved our operation down the street to the park for the dance and ending with fireworks. The Jewel Boys were a large farm family that were renowned for their musical talents. The seven brothers came together to play a variety of music from bluegrass, to country, to hillbilly rock and of course old time ballads and standards. They had been a local draw for years. I smiled as I watched Jake helping them set up, eyes just twinkling as he looked over their gear and guitars. The dark navy of his blazer set off the auburn that was in his hair as it fell across his shoulders and back. I had not seen him smile like that in a very long time. It was his realm. Music. He belonged to it in such a way that although we all saw it in Martin’s, but on the few occasions I had seen him on a gig - it made me wonder if he belonged in another life. A life that he was born to be on the stage for all to see.

He waved at me while I gathered up the mayor for their big thank you for coming speech. Mayor Pauley smiled and waved as Jake tried to hand her a microphone, giving up and just grabbing hold of her hand to place it directly in her palm. Everyone laughed as he backed away dramatically and she continued on with the task of introductions and welcomes and thank yous. I took my bow when she mentioned me and the business committee that made the whole event possible. Upon completion, she introduced the Jewel Boys to an uproar of applause. People crowded the dancefloor and the surrounding area just to watch the spectacle. I admit, I rode the edge. It was enough to just watch everyone else have fun.

I took note that Jeanette was dancing with friends, her face all lit with light as Jake stayed on stage, playing mandolin for the first few songs. I wondered if she saw what I did when he played like this. He was not just Jake. He was the kind of beautiful that you could see the music was seeping out of his pores and absolute joy shone in his eyes. He was effortlessly golden.

I chatted with those around me, just appreciating the music and the happy mood that clung to the air. Jake took his bow and introduced the next song before taking off to be at Jeanette’s side. I caught his gaze for a few moments. His gravity was strong, yanking me across the distance. I forced myself to move away and instead, I turned to find Mr. Henry, asking me to dance. How could I say no to that handsome man?

I found myself belly laughing as Henry serenaded me as we danced. He was amazing. Somehow, just before the song ended, though, I found myself face to face with Jake. He had tapped on Henry’s shoulder to interrupt. The band slipped into some bouncy pop song that we were completely silly to. It just felt good to see my friend cut loose. Just as I was about to bow out, the next song swooned across the masses. The space on the floor suddenly widened as a slow melody took root to swish away the singles and welcome the couples.

“The Nearness of You” was a soft spot for me, and Jake knew it. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment before stepping in close to bring my body close to his. We shuffled across the floor, our eyes upon each other as he hummed along the notes. To be held to him so close made my heart feel sick. My skin longed for his caress. I let out a nervous laugh as he softly sang the first words…

It’s not the pale moon that excites me

That thrills or delights me

Oh no

It’s the nearness of you…

He turned me gently. He held me tenderly. When I looked at his face, I could see our path stretch out, coming back together just as it was supposed to be. His gravity wrapped around me and mingled with mine. For a moment, I thought for sure we were the only ones dancing within that most perfect of memory. I could feel his heart racing as my fingers came to rest on his chest. I’m sure he knew my breath was coming way too fast. I smiled as a soft hum rippled through him - familiar and warm and… As the notes faded, he closed his eyes as a breath escaped from between his lips.

And then it was done. That moment. It was like one of those moments where you’re instantly questioning if it happened the second it is over. Our bodies stopped and started to move away from each other.

“Mandy, look at me,” he whispered when I could not lift my chin to even smile a thank you.

�� “I can’t,” I said, my chest choking on so many words that wanted to pour out. It was neither the time, nor the venue to do so. “I have to go, Jake.”

The last words of my little girl journal struck me as I walked away. You would think that these words were full of venom and hate and betrayal and confusion. Though the words were full of fire, they contained none of it. It was lament. Lament for what was in front of Jake at that time. A sorrow. A concern for only him in what he was facing. Nothing of me. Nothing of my hurt. It was like the moment of cauterization of our relationship all over again. We were both healthy. We were both happy. Was there just too much scar tissue to allow us a way back to each other? It was undeniable that there was still love. A deep love that flowed like an underground current through us both.

I drifted away feeling very much like I had left myself behind with him. I had to focus on my next task to finish the night and leave the moment behind. The chill in the air danced across my skin and realized that there was dampness on my face. Wiping at my cheeks, I had no idea why there needed to be tears. I caught sight of Jeanette as she and Jake were walking towards the staging for the fireworks. She had a smile that seemed off. I wondered if she had seen it. Seen me being an absolute juvenile while dancing with a man she was obviously so right for, even if I did not want to admit it to myself.

When the night was over, and I was sliding into my bed, I grabbed hold of my pillow and hugged it tight. I was feeling those threads, that current strangling me in a way that was forcing me to see very clearly: I needed to say goodbye. It was time. My relationship with Jake had shaped me for over twelve years. Twelve years that we were not together. It was foolhardy to hold a standard of what I had for a fleeting six months to anything that I could possibly treasure now. Treasure that I could have as my own and grow away from Jake. He needed to have what was right in front of him - a good woman who so loved him in a way that was nice to see him have. I did not need to fuck with that. Perhaps it was time to finally heal the last bit of wound that was there and move on.

Jake POV

To watch Amanda walk away from me with tears in her eyes hurt. Deeply. I yanked myself together like a patchwork quilt and returned to my spot to watch the rest of the music set. Jeanette seemed to sense a drift and stayed away until it was time for fireworks. Her touch was warm as we walked side by side down into the park by the river. We found my folks and Ronnie, Dave and the kids. I was knee deep in my nephews and niece; a welcomed respite from the thoughts that troubled me.

I had taken Jeanette home after the festivities, leaving her with a kiss at her door as she was supposed to be on shift at seven the next morning. I took a moment, standing in my boxers in my kitchen, a glass of water between my fingers, to play back the moment that I had her next to me, against me. I could feel her warmth still. My heart was angry with it. My breath was tainted with it.

I pretended to be normal for a week. Jeanette was on a week from hell, covering shifts while working her own. Our contact was me dropping off plates of food and phone calls that lasted moments. I could tell she was holding something back. We had not taken the time to really get into her upset from a few weeks back. We merely had fallen back in step of our comfort.

Saturday evening brought her around to my place for a dinner date. I was going to take her to a little cafe that we had stumbled upon closer to Flint. I figured getting out of town would be good. Just a little space and a long evening would be good. However, when she landed on my doorstep, I knew we were going nowhere. Instead, I made a pot of coffee and sat with her in the living room. I could feel her defenses were up, despite her smile and warmth that danced in her eyes.

After our pleasantries and catching up from a busy week, the silence beat for a bit too long. She seemed to be mulling over her words. I did not want to tread forward until she was ready because I truly did not know how to broach the subject that seemed to weigh on her and I did not want to force it.

“You know, Jake,” she started, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a half smile, “when I was young, I watched how my grandparents looked at each other. My grandfather had the absolute audacity to look at my grandmother like she was the queen of his whole world. I was brought up to think I deserved that kind of love. And there are so many around here that have that. You ever notice that? Mr. Henry and Ada. Lord, your folks have it in spades. I’ve dreamt of being that for someone. I know I had it with Gabe. I don’t want to be selfish, but I would like to have that again.”

I felt my stomach drop to my feet. I knew what she was talking about. It clicked.

“You have to admit, these past few years have been amazing,” she said quietly. “I’ve hoped to have… I’ve hoped that you could have been my person, Jake. But truth is, that’s not going to happen.”

“Jeanette,” I managed, trying to reach for her hand.

“I love you, Jake,” she breathed out, the words tangling up in her throat. “I know you care very much for me-”

“Hey.” I stopped her, my heart swelling as I reached for her hand. “You can’t say I’ve not loved you.”

She grinned sadly. “Thank you. You’re right. You have. But Sunday I realized something. Amanda Fischer has been your person for so long. You still want her. And that’s okay. I know that what we have has been so special to me. I think we’ve been good to get over some pretty hard stuff, haven’t we?”

I perked my eyebrow at her sentiment. She was correct. It had been years since I had felt as whole as I had in recent days and weeks. It was like I was a clean slate with only hints of fissures and glued together cracks of what I was in the past that were just barely visible. She had made that possible.

“I better go,” she said, her voice growing strong. “Thank you for everything, Jacob.”

I tugged on her hand to bring her close. “Thank you, Jeannette.”

I kissed her softly and pulled her into a hug. It was not a mourning of parting that I felt. Instead, it was the opposite. I felt like we were celebrating. Like we were graduating beyond our grief; our damage. She felt it, too. I watched as she left and absorbed the quietness that she left behind. It was not a bad thing. It was mine.

I’ll see you next Wednesday for the final chapter and epilogue. 💚

I have a tag list if you would like to join, or you can just reply to this or message me.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatcherc @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows @livkiszka @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gracev0609 @gretavangroupie @fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @joniizzle-blog

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka fan fic #greta van fleet au #gvf au #greta van fleet fan fic #jake kiszka au #best laid plans

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arctosv · 6 months

Text

Hauntober Prompt 16: Candle

Smells Like Spirits

“Why does it smell like lavender and vanilla in here?” Kara asks as she peaks her head in from the doorway. The room is dark apart from several lit candles arranged in a circle around Arryn.

“Because they were the only candles I could find in the office.” Arryn explained.

“Why are you sitting on the floor in the middle of a circle of lit candles? That seems kinda unsafe, especially since the room is carpeted.” Kara continued.

“Well, the only hardwood closed offices are being used for meetings at the moment and I’m trying to have a seance, but that keeps getting interrupted.” Arryn answered patiently. “Would you care to join me?”

“Take part in a seance during October? Uh yeah, of course. Crossing that off of my Halloween activity list.” Kara replied giddily as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. “Do I sit in the circle with you, cause I’d rather not catch my clothes or hair on fire, you know?”

“I mean as long as you’re careful you can sit in the circle with me, but we kinda need the candles or else the point is moot, ya know?” Arryn explained gesturing to the candles.

“Well, what about if we had some led fake candles instead?” Kara suggested while inspecting the lavender candle more closely. “There are some in the cabinet right behind you. I think they used them for an immersion episode or something like that.”

Arryn sighed and got up, filling the room with light as they flipped on the light switch. “Where were you when I spent forty minutes searching for candles and matches?” They asked as each candle was blown out and placed on a table nearby.

“Well, if you’re trying to find something specific just come find me next time.” Kara giggled as she helped place the new fake candles in a circle and turned them on. Taking a seat on the ground within the circle they faced each other. “So, what now? Do we need a sacrifice or something?”

“I don’t think we need one for this, but maybe another time. So from what I’ve been reading we need to join hands and chant.” Arryn explained as they took Kara's hands in their own. “But their instructions didn’t really give a chant to use, so I guess we’ll have to come up with our own?”

“Ooh I know just the one, trust me.” Kara exclaimed with a laugh before settling back down. “Just follow my lead.” She paused as Arryn nodded before proceeding. “Oh my god we’re back again.”

“Oh my god we’re back again…” Arryn followed along.

“Brothers, sisters, everybody sing.” Kara continued as Arryn stopped following along. “Why’d you stop?”

“I don’t think ghosts are going to show up if we’re chanting Backstreet Boys songs.” Arryn replied with a sheepish shrug.

“Listen Arryn, if these ghosts don’t enjoy the Backstreet Boys then I don’t think we really want to be talking to them, right?” Kara explained.

Arryn nodded along in agreement as Kara spoke, “Alright alright, you might have a good point. Let’s start over.”

AO3 Link

#hauntober #rooster teeth #kara eberle #arryn zech #ragehappy #fanfic

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avenirdelight · 2 years

Text

Choose Them Wisely

Declan Rice

She’s bringing Declan home to her dad for the first time. [Inspired by “Every Summertime” by NIKI]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DECLAN!❤️

“Baby, don’t you think we’re moving too fast?”

She knitted her brows, shifting her gaze from her own reflection in the mirror into Declan’s. The look on his face was enough to show how tensed up he was.

“Babe, you know it’s too late to back out, right?” She turned around on her heels, hands automatically went to Declan’s shoulders to straighten the small wrinkles on his jacket. “We’re literally forty five minutes away from my dad’s birthday dinner.”

Declan let out a heavy sigh as he tried to zip up his jacket. “I know, I know… Sorry,” he dropped his gaze to meet her eyes. “I’m just so nervous.”

A reassuring smile appeared on her face. “Dec, I know I’ve told you this so many times today but–”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Declan finished her words. She bowed her head as she tugged her lips a little bit wider. “Yeah, I know… It’s gonna be okay.”

But Declan was literally sweating bullets when they were on their way to her Dad’s. His left hand that she was holding was sweaty and he couldn’t stop tapping his fingers to the wheel. Even though he kept repeating the words in his mind, that everything was going to be okay, another voice in his head kept reminding him that he was going to meet her family for the first time – he had to make a good impression and had to be the best version of himself tonight.

Declan was incredibly nervous and he completely looked like it. She had never seen him this nervous before; he never even looked this nervous when he had to play big games. She had tried to put his favourite songs on, put it on a comfortable volume, but it didn’t seem to help to ease his mind.

But somehow, seeing him nervous comforted her. It was not like she was happy that Declan was bothered by the anxiousness – she was happy because him being nervous meant that he took this seriously, just like she did.

“Hey,” she said, squeezing his hand a little bit to get his attention.

“Hmmm?” Declan responded but he was too focused on the road, he didn’t even glance at her.

“My dad’s going to love you. I know it,” she continued. “All of my family always say that my dad and I are alike. So what you have to do is just be you. Believe me, he’ll fall in love with you just like I did.”

Declan let out a little chuckle. His heart had been pounding harder and harder the longer he drove, but listening to her words—his heart was still pounding hard, but at least it felt more comfortable now.

He nodded and squeezed her hand back. “I’m just glad he’s not a supporter of a rival team. Makes it easier…” He gave her a light shrug and she chuckled. “Well, even if he's a supporter of a rival team,” he glanced at her for a second. “I’ll still try everything to get his blessing. ‘Cause I’ve fallen really hard for his daughter.”

Her laughter erupted, making Declan smile. He drew her hand towards his lips and planted a little kiss on the back of her hand. What he’d just said might sound cheesy, but he meant it.

—

The first introduction went well. Her family gave him a warm welcome. Seeing that her dad was not as scary as he’d thought washed most of his nervousness down. Her step-mum was also as sweet as she’d told him, making Declan feel more comfortable to be the sweet man that he was since the moment they’d stepped into the house.

The dinner also went well. Her family asked them how they met, how they finally got together, asked Declan this and that, and the conversation went smooth and lively. Of course, football became one of the topics; they wanted to know more about his profession. Nolan, his little nephew, was the most excited about it—he wanted to be a footballer, and Declan had promised him to play football with him sometimes.

And as soon as dinner had finished, with all the make-a-wish, candle-blowing, and cake-cutting little ceremony, Nolan dragged Declan back to the living room to show him videos of him playing football.

She helped her step-mum and sister to clean the table and tidy up a bit in the kitchen. She was so glad that the two women were all smiles.

“I can see why you love this one, he’s a proper gentleman,” her step-mum said as she washed her hands in the sink.

“And I can tell that he’s different,” her sister added. “Really wise for a boy his age. Smart. Seems grounded too. You know, when you told me you’re dating a footballer, I couldn’t help but to imagine one of those cocky ones who didn’t actually know what they’re doing on the pitch, but acts like they’re on top of the world.”

She let out a little scornful laugh. “Yeah, I’ve seen them before, but I promise you, Declan is nothing like them.”

She believed that Declan was one in a million. He was the real deal. They’d been friends for years. Declan had always tried to get her, and it was not like she’d been playing hard to get, but she’d just been uncertain so she really took her time to get to know Declan before she finally became sure of both of their feelings.

She agreed with her sisters’ words, that he was different. Despite the young age of the relationship, she knew that her relationship with Declan was serious. It was part of the reason why she wanted Declan to meet her family; she wanted them to get to know the man she was madly in love with as soon as possible, and she was so relieved that they liked him too.

The one person that she was dying to know if they liked Declan, though, was her dad.

She left the kitchen and went out through the back door; she’d been hearing Nolan’s excited voice from the kitchen and now she figured out that the little boy, with her brother-in-law and Declan, was out in the backyard. Declan had got a ball on his hand—he flashed her a smile when he saw her standing by the door.

“I think Nolan is the most excited of us all to meet your boyfriend.” A heavy voice said from somewhere on her right. Her dad was sitting there. Alone, with a drink in his hand.

“Yeah, I guess so. He loves football a lot now, doesn’t he? He’s always in his football kit all the time,” she commented, remembering those times when Nolan video-called her wearing a different football kit each time. Her dad hummed in agreement.

“He’s got a new friend to play football with now,” he said. “I was surprised when you wanted to introduce me to your new boyfriend. That was fast. Haven’t you only been dating him for… Three? Four months? You usually took longer than that.”

“I don’t know, I just… I just want you to meet him before you move up to Leeds,” she took a seat on an empty chair on his left. “It would be hard to find the time when you’d move.”

He slightly nodded before taking a sip of his drink. Both of them were now staring at Nolan, his dad, and Declan who seemed to be having a lot of fun.

“You really love this one don’t you?” he asked after a while.

She set her eyes on Declan who was crouching down beside Nolan; it looked like he was giving him some serious advice on how to make a good pass and the little boy looked completely invested in it. That, what was happening in front of her, was one of the reasons why she really loved Declan—he was so good and patient with kids.

“Yes, I do,” she answered in full certainty. “It feels… Different.”

“I figured. You wouldn’t bring him home if it wasn’t different,” he paused and took another sip of his drink before settling the glass down on the small table between them. “But, as your father, I just want to remind you. Just because it feels different, don’t let yourself be blinded by it.”

She turned her head to him and he looked back at her not long after. There was a serious, kind, fatherly look on his face.

“Remember what I always taught you. Choose them wisely.”

She slightly tugged the corners of her lips, forming a small smile. To choose wisely from everything life had to offer you was something that her dad always taught her since she was little. That was part of the reason why it took her so long to finally decide that Declan was the person she wanted to be with.

“I think I did with him,” she slightly nodded. “I’ve known him for years and over those years… I knew he was trying to get me but I didn’t fully give him the chance. But he never left. And I just fell in love with him over and over again. Until one day I was sure to choose him.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Nolan’s and Declan’s laughter caught their attention back—Nolan was running around with the ball and Declan was making the tiniest jog, trying to catch him, while Nolan’s father was filming it all.

“Do you think mum would love him?” she asked. A subtle smile made its way to her dad’s face at the mention of her mum. Mum had passed away when she was fourteen, her sister was seventeen. Mum didn’t even get to see her second daughter fall in love for the first time.

“If she was here, she would keep him occupied by showing him the old album photos, they would have a good laugh at your embarrassing photos from when you were little,” Dad answered; that subtle smile had grown wider. She nodded in agreement, her heart clenched as she imagined the scene Dad had just mentioned. “I think they’d get on very well.”

“Yeah… Mum would love him so much,” she let out a little sigh. “But how about you?”

He turned to her and she did the same to meet his gaze. She was a bit nervous. She’d been observing all evening—Dad looked like he liked Declan but she still needed the confirmation.

“He’s a good one. I know one when I see one,” he said with a serious and calm voice. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

She felt so warm hearing that. Not only because she was relieved that her dad had just given her an approval, but also because it was the first time he’d ever said that about someone she dated.

Now she was sure that she’d chosen Declan wisely. She’d chosen a good one.

—

“Training tomorrow?” Her dad asked.

“Yes, sir, uh— Big games are coming up so training is going to get intense for the next couple of weeks,” Declan answered.

“Yeah, yeah… Does she always come to the game?”

“Yes, mostly. She loves going to the home games. Never want to miss one.”

His palms were sweaty all over again. Declan and her were about to go home but the others were still pretty occupied inside the house; Declan found himself and her dad, just the two of them, standing on the porch. Her dad was pretty chill all night, and something was telling Declan that the serious talk was about to happen now.

“Tell me, what do you love the most about my daughter?”

Declan let out a small sigh. There was plenty. He loved everything about her. He’d known her for years and he thought that he’d known a lot, but every day he still found things to love about her.

“The most?” Declan cleared her throat. His brain was trying to pick one single thing that he loved the most about her. “I have a lot of things that I love about her but the one that’s on top of my mind is… Her determination, sir. Always so unfaltering. Undeterred.”

His dad only looked at him, and Declan felt like he was expected to continue.

“When she wants something, wants to get something or proof something, she won't stop trying. She’s so diligent and persistent. Quite stubborn sometimes,” Declan smiled at that and her dad too. “But she really inspires me in that aspect. When sometimes I feel like I can’t do something, I see her, and I get back on my feet and start to believe again, because she never stops and I know I can’t stop. And I want to do it for her.”

Her dad nodded. “It seems like you know her quite well. Especially on the stubborn part.” They both shared a chuckle. “Well, she looks genuinely happy, and I know you’re a big part of her happiness right now,” his voice got serious and Declan felt himself tensing up; his heart started to race again. “And I know that when my daughter loves, she really loves, she gives her everything.”

Declan nodded, agreeing on her dad’s statement. “Yes, sir. I consider myself very lucky,” Declan sounded just as serious. “She deserves nothing but the best, and I’ll always try my best to give her everything she deserves.”

Her dad patted Declan on his shoulder. To Declan, the gesture felt like her dad was blessing him with the responsibilities of taking care of her, and he promised himself that he would not disappoint.

“I give you my trust,” her dad said with a subtle smile and Declan replied with another nod and a smile.

“Ready to go?” her voice interrupted and when Declan looked over his shoulder, he saw her approaching and the rest of the family trailing behind her.

“Yeah, let me help you with that.” Declan took the paper bags that she was carrying—you never went home from your parents’ house with empty hands.

They said goodbye to each other. Nolan looked like he was about to cry when he needed to say goodbye to Declan, but Declan promised him that they were going to play football together again. Then Declan took the chance to invite the whole family to the next West Ham game, which everyone was suddenly excited about, especially Nolan.

She was all smiles when she and Declan walked to the car, mostly because tonight had gone well, even better than she’d hoped it would be. Her and Declan’s eyes met when they opened the car doors and Declan immediately raised his eyebrows.

“You don't look so nervous anymore. I guess the talk with my dad went well?” she asked as soon as they entered the car. “What did he say?”

Declan shrugged. “Not much,” he gave her a mysterious smile. “Just enough.”

She giggled. Declan could clearly see the happiness in her eyes and for some reason it made his heart skip a beat. “I told you he was going to love you.” And Declan’s smile grew wider when he heard that.

There was a certain feeling in her heart that was making her chest feel warm and full, but she couldn’t quite understand yet what it was. All the relief and happiness was mixed into one and she was just so thankful for Declan and her family. She was finally able to bring home someone that her family loved and can trust right from the start, only adding to the list of reasons why she loved Declan.

The small smile had become permanent on her face as she stared at Declan who was driving and humming his favourite tune. Choose them wisely, she remembered his dad’s voice and she once again believed that she’d done that.

And that was when she caught herself hoping that Declan was going to stay for a while. A long while, if not forever. She hoped for the latter.

—

thank you so much for reading!

this one makes me feel a little bit sentimental somehow. her talk with her dad, dec's talk with her dad, i felt nervous writing it, as if i was them seeking for her dad's blessing. i'm imagining bringing someone home and now i'm nervous! please tell me what you liked about the story! maybe your favourite lines?

sending you all my love<3

My Masterlist🤍

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY DECLAN #avenirdelightwrites #declan rice imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #declan rice one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #footballer fic #football fic #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #avenirdelight gif

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t00turnttrauma · 2 years

Text

I fell- jmk

I wrote this during my break at work so I’m sorry if it’s bad.

“Stay out of stressful situations,” she said. “As long as you do that, take your vitamins, and stay safe, you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Doctor Castello,” you said, taking the pamphlet and the prescription for vitamins.

You called Josh, filling him in on the details from the appointment on your way out of the clinic. He listened intently, eating his lunch on the other side of the phone. He’d been working himself to the bone, trying to create the perfect song.

Staying stress-free was easier said than done. With four man-children running around, you noticed keeping yourself away from them when they were getting crazy. They found it weird, but they understood after Josh explained it to them. While his brothers took a step back and kept themselves in line, they were still young at heart. Especially with Josh, his antics alone were enough to raise your blood pressure. On top of this was the stress of moving. The apartment you’d been living in was not big enough for you, Josh, and a baby. The place had two rooms, one of which was Josh’s studio from home when he needed it. He wasn’t willing to give up his office, at least not permanently. While you could have made it work for a while, Josh took point in finding a new abode.

To keep yourself busy, you’d been packing up unnecessary things like the small decorations and seasonal items. Despite the bump weighing you down, you dragged box after box of donations to the hallway. You paid the teenagers who lived in the building to take the boxes to the donation center down the street. Once Josh noticed what you were doing, he enlisted his brothers to help you. Again, you could have done it alone if you weren’t pregnant, but it was also nice to see everyone. They carried furniture all the way down to the moving van and unloaded it, all for the price of dinner.

Waking up in the newest house was a shock that took a moment to get used to. The only things set up at this moment were the big pieces of furniture. You dug through a box for clothes. Josh had obviously done the same, his suitcase looking like it threw up on the floor in the corner of the room. He left a breakfast sandwich on the nightstand with a decaf coffee. You did some work, sending some e-mails while simultaneously trying to plan the day.

About two hours ago, you decided to get some of the unpacking done. All the pots and pans were still in boxes, wrapped in layer after layer of bubble wrap. Despite begging Jake to label the boxes, he forgot. You couldn’t blame him. After living in your own apartment for years, you’d accumulated so much stuff and now you were still trying to do a final purge before. About forty minutes ago, you dropped a picture frame between the boxes. You bent down, squeezing yourself between the boxes while trying to retrieve it. Instead, the baby in your belly shifted, causing you to wince. Over the last eight months, your center of gravity has shifted, making you clumsier than usual. You lost your balance, getting lodged between the boxes. You were able to flip yourself over, your back on the floor. Knowing Josh would freak, you tried to push the box on your right. Instead, the box on top of it fell, the corner of it a few inches from falling on your face. With a sigh, you yelled out to your phone that was on top of the box on your left. “Hey Siri… call Josh.”

“Hey, what’s up?” He greeted. “Did you miss me?”

“Um, Josh?” Your voice was distant, echoing in the empty house. “I fell.”

Jake had never seen a smile leave his brother’s face so fast. They were all waiting for their producer to come back. Jake was inside the recording booth, surrounded by amps and wires that took far too long to walk around. He watched through the glass as Josh almost slammed into Sam coming back from the vending machine. Danny raised his hands in confusion, looking at Jake for an answer.

Josh raced home, blowing past yellow lights and even a red light that he swore changed too fast. His commute was only a third of the usual time it took him to get home. Hearing your voice from far away scared the daylights out of him. He left his car door open, the engine running. He didn’t care, just happy that he was home. He entered through the garage, practically jumping over the boxes that were yet to be unpacked. Once in the kitchen, he took in the scene. Ingredients were taken out of the fridge and pantry, but you were nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N?” he shouted, “where are you?”

“Over here.”

He followed your voice, seeing your feet on the floor between two boxes in the living room.

He moved the box from above your head, setting it on the floor. He scooted the box on your right, revealing him to you. Josh grabbed your arm, helping you up. “Y/N, what were you thinking?”

“I got hungry,” you huffed, the weight of the baby pulling at your lower back again. “Then I got stuck.”

“Why didn’t you call me to get the box?” He scanned your face for injuries. Finding none, he hugged you anyway. “You’re so hardheaded,” he sighed. “But I am so glad you’re safe.”

“Josh, I was on that floor for an hour. You know I love your hugs, but if you don’t let me go, this baby is going to make a mess.”

#josh gvf #josh kiszka #joshua kiszka #josh kiska x reader #gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #gvf fanfiction #sam kiszka gvf #gvf fluff #greta van fleet #gretavanfleet #jake kiszka #jake #jacob kiszka #jake gvf #gvf x reader

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

505 | G.W

WARNINGS // SMUT 18+, If you know the song, you know what’s coming. Mutual pining, kissing, a lil sadness, George being a simp,

I wanted to celebrate me reaching 500 followers (something I legit never saw happening) by writing a fic for you all!! I went back to one of my favourite songs... it seemed pretty fitting.

ps. please don’t post my work elsewhere, it breaks my heart!!

I'm going back to 505

If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs

505 New Harleston St. The place where it all began, your childhood home. It had been years since George had seen you and every part of him dreaded the thought of you loving someone that wasn't him. It hadn't been easy for him to move on, when every beat of his heart was beating for you. As he turned the ignition of the car and rolled out of his driveway, the destination was set in his mind. Each road and turn was like muscle memory as he set off on the forty-five minute drive in the pouring rain to see you. He prayed you still lived with your parents and that you weren't in the arms of another man. He pictured you in your bed, back arching as you touched yourself to the thought of him. The imagery was sinful, and distracting, so distracting that he had almost veered the poor ford Anglia off the side of the road. He however couldn’t pull himself away from the soft melody that was your moans as they echoed around his brain.

Only when he was parked outside your house, looking up at your window, which was only dimly lit, did he contemplate driving back home. But he was sure he was meant to be there, after all even if it had taken a Seven hour flight, he had to be there to see you.

He stepped out of his car, the heavy rain drenching him from head to toe within a few moments. He checked his watch, it was nearly midnight and he hesitated once again. He then noticed the kitchen light flick on. 'it's now or never' he thought, his feet dragging him to your front door, ignoring the doorbell to knock gently on the painted wood.

The knock on your door caused you to spin around and look at the clock, confused at who would come knocking at this time, you assumed it could only be that your cat, Ernie, had snuck into the neighbour's house again. You quickly walked towards the door, words falling from your lips before you could even process who was in front of you. "I'm so sorry, Mrs Jame- George?"

Stop and wait a sec

Oh when you look at me like that my darling

What did you expect

The way you looked up at him with a look of pure innocence and love drove him absolutely crazy. An old oversized t-shirt was hanging against your thighs as your eyes went wide with shock. you blinked a couple of times, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you. He didn't disappear, however and something inside of you roared as you darted forward, hand sneaking up to rake your fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck as you pulled him down and into a kiss. You didn't care that his clothes were soaking wet and that the rain was gusting into the house, you had George in front of you and that was the only thought plaguing your mind.

It was as if all the time you had spent apart had never happened, your body slotting perfectly against his as soon as he had you in his arms again. The kiss you shared was passionate and needy, before you knew it, he had you trapped between him and a wall, making out like teenagers again, your hands frantically pulling off his jacket and letting it fall to the floor.

"Georgie.. I've missed you." Your eyes were wide, looking up at him innocently and full of passion, it was a look he was obsessed with. The nickname you used for him brought back so many old memories that he knew that he had to have you back and he would do anything in his power to call you his once more. His hands had slipped under the t-shirt to rest against your waist, the feeling of his large hands on your warm skin was familiar and intoxicating. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, my angel, I miss us."

His confession had you weak at the knees. Despite the fact that your break up was messy, the love you shared for each other had never left. Having both gone through the war with each other and gaining trauma that neither of you knew how to process, resulting in more frequent arguments, less affection, more ange and more more resentment until you both decided it was best for the both of you to part ways. Over the years, you had taken the time to heal but George however, grew insecure and lost confidence of his own worth. He didn't know how to move on in life without you by his side.

That's why kissing him felt so natural, his lips and arms felt like home to you. It was why you were willing to risk it all and take him back. It was also why you were sure you were sure you'd let him fuck you senseless in the hall out of desperation. You were still in love with him and a part of you had truly never stopped loving him, even after all this time.

I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Or I did last time I checked

You'd pulled the boy up to your room, stripping him of his damp clothes and admiring every inch of his skin, you had to pinch yourself every time because having him here felt like a dream. As you lay on your bed, your head on his chest, you listen to the in and out of his breath, letting his heartbeat remind you that he was in fact here, and not hundreds of miles away.

He didn't try to initiate anything you didn't want to do, talking into the early hours about everything you'd done since you'd last seen each other. You confessed that you would take him back if he wanted you. George's eyes went wide at that statement, his breath hitched in his own throat. He took the opportunity to kiss you again, the soft, open mouthed kisses turning quickly to a more passionate exchange as your tongues brushed against each other. He pulled you on top of him so that you were straddling his hips, his hands guiding your own to gently rock back and forth against his.

You were grinding against him, feeling the desperation for him grow inside you as you were reminded of the mind blowing sex life you used to have, you adored him even as he was fucking you relentlessly, hand wrapped around your neck. You missed being touched the way he touched you. You picked up the pace, causing a string of moans to fall from your lips, it was enough for him to buck his own hips up to meet yours. As if he could hear your thoughts, a hand moved up to grasp at your neck, a smirk plastered across his lips. "Always knew you liked that, Princess."

The string of moans that fell from your lips were pure filth but nevertheless, music to his ears. You were adults, pining over one another, in a situation not too dissimilar from one you had with him as teenagers, sneaking away from your group of friends and up to the dorms. Coincidentally, it was the same day he'd told you he loved you.

Your mind was flicking back and forth to the present and the past as George's hands trailed gently up your sides. The look in his eyes was pure lust as he pulled you in for another kiss. His kisses were intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from going in for another, and another, and another.

"We don't have to do this, not if you're not-" You cut him off with a simple kiss, before pressing your lips to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to his collarbone, slipping between his legs with a content sigh. "I want this George, I want you."

You had started by palming him through his boxers, watching as his head fell back into the pillow. There was no rush, just gentle, meaningful movements. When you finally pulled his cock from his underwear, his heart sped up, you rested your cheek against his thigh as you stroked him, his hand smoothing over your hair as warm moans fell from his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes, as amazing as George's more dominant side was, to see him completely at your will as his cock was in your hand made you feel so powerful. Your hand was perfect, small enough that when you wrapped your hand fully around, the squeeze was enough for him to feel like he was in heaven, not to mention the way you looked at him. You truly were his angel.

He had flipped you over before you could even take him in your mouth, he was gentle as he pulled your shirt over your head, kissing every part of skin he could. This moment with you was everything he was waiting for, to be with you, intimate and in love. He slipped your underwear to the side before pushing into you. It felt like everything you could've needed in that moment, he didn't make it rough or push you. He simply made love to you as the sun rose, mumbling words of pure praise against your lips. "You're doing so well, Princess, taking me so, so good."

His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles with his middle and pointer finger as he brought you close to your release. His hair was hanging messily as his hips rocked into yours. "That's it baby, cum for me, such a good girl."

When you came over him, your mind went blank except for the thought of him. It was perfect, he was perfect, he was repeating over and over that he loved you. Godric, did you love him too.

Not shy of a spark

A knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

You and George had been back together a whole month before he offered for you to move in with him. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hesitated when he asked. You were worried that perhaps since getting back together things were moving too fast again, but as soon as he’d shown you his beautiful home, all worries seemed to fade. When George bought the house, he imagined what life would be like with you sharing his home - your home together. Everywhere he looked, he imagined what your future children would be doing as they ran around the halls. Everything he seemed to do was with you in mind.

It was one particular evening where you’d come back to your now shared home to find George sat alone on the sofa, all of the lights still turned off. He hadn’t even noticed you enter, he was silently sobbing as tears rolled down his cheeks. Thoughts swimming in his head of not being good enough for you, that he fell short of being everything you needed. He didn’t know how to process these feelings, he hadn’t learned how to cope with the negative thoughts, let alone how to tell himself that they were all bullshit.

You noticed the tears glistening off his cheeks, lit only by the lamppost outside, quite literally dropping everything, not caring where it fell. You pulled the crying boy into your arms, his head resting against your chest, the salty tears transferring to your t-shirt. Once he had come to his senses, no longer lost in his own bubble, the bubble in his throat prevented him from speaking, hardly able to string a sentence together. You did your best to console him, but the pain in his chest felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest and continued to turn the knife.

“I- I know don’t fucking deserve you.” He was babbling over his words as you rocked him, playing with the hair that he had grown out especially for you, pushing the strands out of his eyes and off his forehead. George only managed to calm down by the grace of your soothing hum and gentle kisses into his hair. He still felt the pang of sadness that didn’t want to shift, as a shallow breath rattled around his lungs. “You are enough for me George, I love you and I’ll always love you.”

But I crumble completely when you cry

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

You were sitting together on the sofa, your head on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined as you watched a movie, something you’d insisted on bringing into your home together. You had been feeling overly emotional In the past week, breaking down into tears over nothing. Just yesterday the sight of orange peel made you tear up. You’d told Fred about it today and he simply laughed at the notion that George had ‘made the orange naked’. While Fred found it hilarious, George hated the sight of you crying. Crumbling completely into a mess to care for you at the very sight of a tear.

Fred and Lee often joked over dinner that George was ‘whipped’. He shrugged off the taunts, retorting back that at least he had a girlfriend. To which the other two boys imitated, un-phased by the younger twin’s attempt at seeming menacing. Lee told you about how they used to call him ‘Whipped Georgie’ back at Hogwarts, a nickname you knew you had heard too often in the quidditch changing rooms. You marvelled at how it was nice to have them all back, but really the group was incomplete without Alicia and Angelina here, you note that you must have them over for dinner soon, or at least another girl’s night.

More recently, however, you and George had been like passing ships in the night, It was kicking into the busiest time of year at the shop and he more often than not crawled into bed with you in the early hours of the morning, only for you to kiss his forehead goodbye as you left for work only a few hours later. The mornings didn’t get any easier, leaving his warm arms another day, to return to him not being there. You feared he would slip away again, a heavy feeling sitting in your stomach as you wake for your day, to see your boyfriend only just slip through the door. You had greeted him once again with a goodbye, your eyes hanging on to his for a pleading moment, as you considered never leaving his hold again.

I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise

Take my hands off of your eyes too soon

George had strolled into the shop, ready for the afternoon and evening rush, his eyes deep set and tired. It was back to sleepless nights for him. Fred noticed the exhaustion in his brother’s eyes, making a quick decision to send him home. They had only just yesterday had the conversation that George had seen almost so little of you that it didn’t even feel like you were together. That feeling broke his heart.

There were so many thoughts running through his head as he walked home. The usual quick walk was slowed way down as he pondered on every running and passing thought. He was a man filled with worry, what if you had stopped loving him? He couldn’t lose you twice.

He arrived home to you, his precious girl, sat on the bed sobbing, looking down at something in your hands. His whole body ached, seeing the tears physically fall, when you smiled up at him his heart softened, perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He caught a glimpse of the small blue box in your hands and his eyes widened. George Weasley was always shit at keeping secrets.

His mind told him ‘fuck it’ as he got down on one knee next to you as you were sat on the bed. A thousand ways of saying what he wanted swirled around his brain, he wanted to say the right words and make it a special moment for you. Every moment you had shared together flew past his eyes, it was like watching a star go supernova. Every bright smile and giggle, every kiss and longing look. It was the perfect movie shared between the two of you.

“I think you already know what I’m about to say, and based on the fact that you’re still crying I hope this isn’t a bad time. But Merlin, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. I want you to be mine forever. I’m sorry that I still haven’t healed and I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. My life is you and if I don’t have you, it’s thunderous and wet and lonely. So, my sunshine, will you marry me?

I'm going back to 505

If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs

...and a smile

The red-haired boy was sitting at his desk, a dim lamp emitting only the faintest glow. Once again his mind was on the thought of you. The thought of you waiting for him at home, His gorgeous wife, her fingers desperately trying to find a release at the thought of him. He contemplated running home, in a full jog, just to devour you. He flicked back to the day he travelled to 505, how he was so desperate to see you, that he would’ve climbed every mountain just to kiss your perfect lips and see your perfect smile.

George realised that It was never 505 New Harleston St. that kept pulling him back. It was you. You were 505.

@starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @wand3ringr0s3 @vogueweasley @loony-loopy-lupinn

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #George Weasley #fred and george #george wealsey imagine #george weasley smut #Harry potter #harry potter fic #writing #505 #arctic monkeys

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julemmaes · 3 years

Text

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

acotar tag list

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthankz @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @perseusannabeth @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp @tothestarswholistentodreamers

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ansgt #modern au #acosf #acotar #acotar fic #nessian angst #julemmaes writing

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pappydaddy · 4 years

Text

Make-up (s.h.)

A/N: I am finally being able to start writing more (slowly but surely)! This is a request sent in by the lovely @secretjellyfishpolice (I love your profile pic by the way lovely!!). I love writing Steve x Henderson!reader stuff purely because I love Dustin and Steve’s relationship! This might be a little short, but I just thought it should end there, felt like it would be better. Sidenote: I had absolutely no idea what to name this... So, thank you so much for your request and I hope you like it💛!

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!fem!reader

fandom: stranger things

requested

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

warnings: fluff. good dustin and steve content. slightly suggestive, mentions of sex.

- not my gif -

For as long as Y/N could remember, her dream was to go to Cosmetology school to learn how to professionally do make-up. Her mother always told stories of how Y/N just couldn’t stay out of her make-up when she was a baby. Unfortunately, her mother told those stories to everyone who would give her the time-of-day to tell the said stories. No matter how embarrassing the stories and the pictures that came along with the stories were, they helped Y/N realize what she wanted to do with her life after high school.

When the day came that her mother had yet again pulled out the photo album loaded with the embarrassing photos to show Y/N’s now (much more) serious boyfriend Steve Harrington, she had decided to finally take the plunge and apply for the Cosmetology school a thirty-minute commute away. It was in the city, sure, but it was very prestigious and close enough for her to still live at home if she managed to get accepted. Steve was the ever-loving boyfriend through the entire application process, offering to help hold the light so she could take the required photos of her make-up skills (that she had used her mother as a model for) to send with her application. But his support didn’t end there.

“I am sure your acceptance letter is on its way right now, stop pacing and come sit down,” Steve tried to calm his pacing girlfriend down as she just about wore a path in the carpet in front of the door. “Come on, Sunshine, I bet your legs are exhausted from all that walking back and forth.” He spoke as he patted the couch cushion beside him.

She stopped her pacing, looking up at him as she wrung her hands together. “I’m too nervous to sit,” She shook her head, resuming her pacing. Steve remained silent, simply looking at her. He knew her, he knew that in any given moment she would rush over to the couch and worry from sitting down. Sure enough, with a final over-dramatic one-eighty whirl, she scampered to the couch. Sitting on her knees, she completely faced Steve with her eyes wide. “Why do you think it’s taking so long? It should have arrived by now, shouldn’t it have? Maybe they are trying to figure out the best way to let me down? That’s probably why it’s taking so long! They are trying to tell me that I suck without making me want to run through a wall-”

“Y/N, darling. You know how the postal service is in Hawkins, it’s complete shit! It’s probably sitting in a mailbag attached to some mailman taking yet another forty-minute coffee break and talking about everyone behind their back with the other mailmen that should be working.” Steve rambled, resting one of his hands on hers, shifting to prop one leg up and face her. His elbow propped up on the back of the couch, resting the side of his head against his closed fist.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” She sighed, slumping back slightly as she relaxed. Steve once again watched her, knowing that her mind was still racing and that it wouldn’t stop until she held that letter in her hand. She suddenly stiffened up again, sitting up straight as her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Steve wasn’t startled by the sudden action, only blinking and trying to hold back his smile. She was too cute in his eyes. “That doesn’t mean they don’t think I suck though.”

“They don’t think you suck,” Steve reassured her gently. “And if they do, they are clearly blind since you are the best damn make-up artist ever. Seriously, I am always amazed. You work wonders.” He praised her, boosting her confidence. She smiled at him, her body finally relaxing to the point where Steve knew that she would be relaxed for at least a few minutes. That was until she spotted the mail carrier walking towards the mailbox from the window.

“He’s here!” She jumped out, this time scaring Steve out of his mind, He jumped in his spot, his hand flying up to his chest in an attempt to calm his wildly beating heart. Taking deep breaths, Steve stood from the couch.

“Give the man a chance to get to the mailbox before you trample him.” Steve told her, watching the man lazily shift through the disorganized mail. Y/N surprisingly listened to him, dancing around on her tiptoes to try and peer out one of the three triangle-shaped windows at the top of her door.

“Is he gone yet,” She asked, rolling back down to her flat feet, unable to see out the windows. Steve shook his head, stretching his arms and legs as he watched the man add envelopes to the mailbox one by one. “God,” She let out a dramatic groan, slumping her shoulders over. “What is taking him so damn long?”

“By the looks of things, he decided to skip the part where he pre-sort the mail,” Steve observed. “There, he’s done-” He didn’t even get to finish his statement before she yanked the door open and took off down the driveway, not even caring that she was running into the crisp air of late August in her thin socks. “You could have at least put shoes on!” He called after her, standing in the open door.

“I got it! I got it! It’s here!” She ignored him, smashing the mailbox door closed before racing back up the driveway, nearly bowling Steve over to get back into the house. Steve kicked the door closed, following her back into the living room. She threw the other mail on the coffee table, not caring about the assortment of bills and junk mail. Steve settled back on the couch, his knee bouncing as he waited impatiently for her to open the letter she inspected with awe.

“Well, come on, don’t leave a guy hanging here,” Steve spoke up after he watched her flip the envelope for the second time. “Open it and see if you got in!”

She followed his instructions, using the letter opener she had placed on the coffee table weeks ago to tear along the fold of the envelope. Her nerves were overridden with impatience as she pulled the tri-folded paper out. The empty envelope fluttered to the carpeted floor by her feet, but she paid it no mind, too busy unfolding the letter. “I got in!” She screamed, turning to Steve, her eyes wide and her mouth dropped in shock.

“You got in!” He yelled back, shooting up from the couch once again, his arms open wide, his eyes just as bright and excited as Y/N’s.

“I got in!” She repeated, stepping onto the coffee table before launching herself into Steve’s arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. The force of her body flinging towards him knocked him off balance enough to send him falling back to the couch. His head lulled to rest on the back of the couch, his eyes set on the excited girl still clinging to him, the corner of the letter digging into the back of his neck little, but he didn’t mind.

“I told you that you would!” He reminded her. She pulled her head from his neck, peering down at him with sparkling eyes, he assumed it was from the excitement of getting into her dream school, but he didn’t know it was because of all the love she felt for him.

“You did, didn’t you?” She asked, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She was beyond thankful that she had managed to find someone that believed in her even when she didn’t believe in herself.

“Just to prove how proud I am of you, I will gladly loan my face to you for practice anytime,” He suggested, tapping her nose. She scrunched it up, pulling away from his finger. “All you have to do is ask.”

____

Steve did mean his words with his whole heart, but when a few weeks passed without her taking him up, he had thought she didn’t want to. It wasn’t until two weeks before she started school that he was proven wrong. “Steve!” She called in a sing-song voice, skipping through the house in search of her boyfriend. Her shopping bag swung by her side as she skipped through her living room into her room. Instantly, she spotted Steve laying on her bed on his back, tossing a slinky back and forth, giggling lightly to himself at the noise it made.

“What’s up, Sunshine,” He asked, not taking his eyes off the metal slinky, still pushing it back and forth. She hopped onto the bed, causing her and him to bounce. Dropping the bag between him and the slinky, she obscured his view as she practically vibrated with excitement. He oohed at the bag, not seeing the label on the other side of it. “Did you go to the naughty store to get me a present?”

She scoffed as he sat up, moving to dive his hands into the bag, thinking that was exactly what she had done. “You wish,” She commented, flipping the bag around so that he could see the store logo. He pouted in disappointment when he realized that it wasn’t from the dirty store. “I had to go get some supplies for school because they want us to get used to these specific products before the first day.”

“Okay?” Steve questioned, looking into the bag. He saw a bunch of make-up products that he wouldn’t even try to figure out what they were. Y/N had tried to explain the different things, but he just could not get the hang of it.

“Well, I can’t possibly get used to them without a model,” She pointed out, snatching the bag back from him. “You told me that I could use your face, all I had to do was as and this is me asking.” She bounced on her knees, her hands pressing against Steve’s side to shake him lightly.

“I did say that and I always stay true to my word,” He agreed, smiling as she clapped happily, cheering. She scrambled off the bed and over to her desk. “But I am really disappointed you didn’t go to the dirty store.” He added in, standing from her bed and plopping himself in her vanity chair, the slinky still in his hand. She plucked the slinky out of his hand, tossing it to the bed before resuming to unpack her make-up.

“If you behave, maybe we can go together tomorrow.” She bargained, clipping his hair back from his face. He nodded eagerly, making her laugh as she reached behind her for some primer.

“Make sure you match to my skin tone,” He reminded her his eyes fluttering closed as she started to apply the primer. It was almost like he could see the look she gave him when he added a quick ‘just making sure’ behind it. Shaking her head, she set to work on the base of his face.

____

“I am surprised that you’ve sat still enough for this long.” Y/N voiced her amazement, her eyes zeroed in on his eyelids as she swept the pigmented pink eyeshadow over it, carefully putting it in the right spot. Steve scoffed, trying his best not to move too much.

“You have no faith in me.” He muttered sarcastically. He was even surprised that he had sat for this long without getting antsy. Maybe it was because she had let him rest his hands on her waist as she worked, maybe it was just that he wanted to help her in any way he could, but it was probably the promise of going to the dirty store that kept him so still. Either way, they were both utterly shocked.

“Not true, I have lots of faith in you,” She corrected, moving to the next eyelid to cover that in pink. “I leave you alone with faith that you won’t burn my house down,” She pointed out, her eyes nearly crossing from how hard she was focusing. “I also leave you alone with my brother with faith that you won’t kill him, though both times he could have been killed, you were almost killed instead so-”

“Yeah, but was Dustin in danger?” He perked an eyebrow in question. She gave him a look.

“Last time I checked, trying to not be killed by Demo-dogs, Billy Hargrove, Russians, and a Giant Flesh Spider is classified as dangerous. So yes.” She pressed her lips together, twisting around to grab another eyeshadow brush, collecting some pigmented blue eyeshadow on it.

“But he didn’t die.”

“True,” She started, brushing some blue in the outer corner and crease expertly. “But you almost died instead, so I don’t think that pleads your case.” She jumped to the next eye, trying to get it the exact same as the other one. She leaned back, inspecting the blue powder on both, adding more to the second one.

“What’s the third colour you want?” She asked, unable to pick the next colour for his eyes.

“Purple.” He blurted out, not even sure that the other two colours were.

“Purple it is then,” She shrugged, plucking yet another brush off the table beside her, coating the end with purple eyeshadow, placing it in the inner corner gently. Steve scrunched his nose up as it tickled lightly. “Sorry,” She whispered, too focused on trying to perfect it. “You know, I didn’t think these three colours would look good together for an eyeshadow look, but I am pleasantly surprised,” She spoke as she started the other eye. “Once I blend it, it’ll look better too.”

“Remember, make me look good,” His warm breath fanned over her wrist as she put the final stroke of eyeshadow on. Grabbing yet another brush to blend the eyeshadow. “Dear God, how many brushes do you need?” He questioned, feeling the new brush swirling over his eyelids, making them flutter.

“A lot, now keep your eyes closed or you’re gonna mess it up,” She exclaimed, moving to the next eye. Steve remained silent, fighting to keep his eyelids closed. “Now, lipstick, mascara then I am done! You want pink or red? Pink might look better with your eye make-up.” She trailed off, looking at the two tubes of lipstick.

“Pink.” He chose, his eyes staying closed.

“You can open your eyes now, you Doofus,” She giggled, uncapping the lipstick and twisting it up. The creamy lipstick smeared onto his lips easily, taking no time at all. “Now, you need to keep your eyes open for this or it’ll mess this all up, okay?” She instructed, putting on the lipstick and grabbing the tube of mascara. Steve nodded, watching her intently. He visibly gulped when she pulled the wand out and brought it to his eye.

“Woah, woah, woah,” He panicked, leaning away from it in fear. “What the hell are you going to do with that?” He pointed to the black-coated wand. Y/N glanced down at it, shrugging as if it was nothing to be scared of.

“Put it on your eyelashes,” She told him, looking back at him. Her hand gripped the back of his head, keeping it in place as she brought the wand closer. “Stop being such a baby, it’s not going to hurt! I do this to myself all the time!” She struggled to keep his head in place, finally touching the wand to his already luscious lashes.

Just as she went to do his other eye, her door burst open to reveal Dustin standing there. The couple jumped, snapping their heads to look, the wand still raised in the air, and Y/N’s hand still on the back of Steve’s head. Dustin looked between Y/N and Steve, his eyes stitching together in question. “Did I just walk into some weird sex thing,” Dustin posed the question before squeezing his eyes closed and frantically shaking his head. “You know what, don’t answer that please?” He pleaded, opening his eyes to look at the couple again.

“It’s not a sex thing, it’s a make-up thing. Steve offered me his face to work on,” She clarified, turning Steve’s head back to face her. Whisking the wand on his eyelashes, she spoke to Dustin. “What do you need Dustin?”

“I honestly can’t remember now that I walked in on this.” He gestured to the scene in front of him, trying to hold in his laughter as he looked at Steve all made up.

“Stop laughing!” Steve cried in protest, his eyes tearing up slightly as Y/N fanned his eyes to make the mascara dry, her other hand placing the now capped mascara on her vanity. Dustin couldn’t help but let out a barking laugh at the comment.

“Yeah, stop laughing Dustin.”

“I’m sorry, but do you really expect me not to laugh at Steve with make-up on?”

“Yes, because A, make up doesn’t have a gender, and B, I think a man who is in touch with his faminine side is very sexy - so do a lot of girls, you should take notes from Steve for when Suzie finally comes to meet us.” She listed unclipping Steve’s hair from his face.

“Yeah, Twerp.” Steve stuck his tongue out at the teen.

“Real mature, Harrington, real mature,” Dustin narrowed his eyes at Steve. “I am ordering a pizza and I expect you guys to pay since you’ll end up eating most of it.” With that, he turned on his heel, marching down the hall. Y/N huffed out as he left the door wide open.

“You know what it is,” Y/N turned to look at Steve, pointing to the open door that Dustin was just standing in. “This attitude is all because his teeth are starting to grow in.” They both hummed at this, agreeing.

“Can I take this off now?” Steve asked, interrupting Y/N as she worked to put everything away. Looking behind her, she saw the glammed-up Steve blinking back at her. Furrowing her eyebrows, she put her brushes back in the spray-painted mason jar she kept them in, slipping her new eyeshadow pallet in the drawer with the rest of her make-up.

“Why, don’t you like it?” She asked, worried that he didn’t like the idea of having make-up on (which would be fine). Steve shook his head frantically.

“No, no! I do like it, I love it even, but, uh,” His nose twitched weirdly, making her eyebrows furrow even more. “It’s just my nose is itchy and I don’t want to ruin it, also, I am weirdly warm right now,” He gushed, his face scrunching up as he tried to survive the itch on his nose. “I have no idea how you guys wear this all the damn time, honestly.” He muttered in awe.

Y/N laughed, tossing him the package of make-up wipes. “Here you go.” She chuckled, sitting down on her bed, sliding a magazine off her nightstand table to read.

“I look damn good though, I almost don’t want to take it off, but I can’t take this itch anymore!” He exclaimed, scrubbing at his face with a wipe. Y/N peeked over her magazine at him, watching as he leaned close to the mirror, working hard to rid his face of the perfectly applied make-up. Glancing at the clock, she hummed, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, Steve,” She sat her magazine on the bed beside her. Steve hummed, working on the eye make-up just like he had watched Y/N do countless times before. She bit her lip, trying to stop the sneaky smile stretching onto her face. “As a thank you for doing this for me, I think I should give you something in return,” She paused, scooting to the foot of her bed. “How about we go to the dirty store today instead of tomorrow? We’ve got the house to ourselves after Dustin goes over to Mike’s for an overnight campaign.” She said with a suggestive tone.

Steve snapped his head to looked at her so fast, she was sure he’d be feeling the whiplash soon. “Really?” He asked with wide, excited eyes, a multitude of colours smudged around the from the eyeshadow, mascara, and eyeliner. She nodded, giggling at his excitement.

“Really! The store doesn’t close until nine and it’s five now, so hurry up, we can go after we drop Dustin off.” Steve started madly.

“Hey, Dustin, how about we give you money for pizza and drop you off early at Mike’s,” Steve yelled, still scrubbing at his face. “I guess he was right, this was a weird sex thing.” He commented, dropping the used wipe in the garbage by her vanity.

“It wasn’t a weird sex thing!” She defended weakly.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington preferences #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #dustin henderson #stranger things imagines #stranger things preferences

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allthatyoulove · 3 years

Text

12:51

Modern/Highschool AU James “Bucky” Barnes / Reader

Summary: Your ex best friend and his new band are performing for the first time and you decide to go watch them perform. You didn’t expect the song to be about you.

Warnings: angst, cussing, fluff

Words: 2.5k

A/N: My first one-shot!!! This was inspired by the song 12:51 by The Strokes! Let me know what you think, and give me any suggestions for future one-shots! (Also let me know if I missed any warnings) Thanks for stopping by :)

You know when you can feel, deep down somewhere, that whatever you’re about to do is a dumb fucking idea? I don’t know why I was ignoring that feeling, but there was nothing that could stop me now.

I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around myself as I walked down the dimly lit street. As I got closer to my destination, the music coming from inside the house started to become louder. I pulled my hand from the inside of my jacket where I attempted to keep it warm to check the time.

12:45.

I had snuck out of my house to go to this party everyone was going to. It was a Friday night, and I was originally thinking of skipping this week’s party, until I found out who was playing.

Bucky Barnes.

Or, I guess, James Barnes.

James and I had been best friends since we were kids. I can’t even remember how we met, I just remember us being attached at the hip since kindergarten. We lived in the same houses, right next to each other, through our entire lives. We went through all of our worst phases together.

I started to get feelings for him in middle school, when I realized that was a thing that happened when you started to grow up. I never told him, scared I would ruin our friendship, and our lives continued as they always have.

Then, highschool started.

Bucky and I began our rebellious phase together, starting to sneak out every Friday night to the party that was happening that week. We would get forties and lay on the roof of our houses afterwards around 1 am, looking at the stars and talking or doing karaoke to our favorite songs. I fell more and more in love with him every day.

Towards the end of freshman year, the upperclassmen at the parties we went to started to take notice of him. They would dare him to jump off the roof into the pool, or to drink as much as he could through a beer funnel. And he would do it, always the people pleaser. They liked how he listened to them, and took him under their wing.

He stopped hanging out with me after that.

I would go up to him, and he would say he had to go to his next class or that his friends were waiting up for him so he couldn’t talk. He wouldn’t let me call him Bucky anymore, because everyone knew him as James and he didn’t want to explain our relationship, or lack-thereof, to them.

Eventually we stopped hanging out altogether, avoiding each other in school and day-to-day, and pretended we never knew each other.

It’s not like I didn’t have or make new friends, because I did, but it was never the same. Bucky- or, James- and I’s bond was something special. Something I couldn’t find with anyone else. I tried to adapt to the friends around me, tried to like the things they liked, but I always felt like James was the only person I could open up to.

Now we’re seniors, and James had started a band with a couple of his friends earlier that year. This party was the first time they were performing in front of people, and I wanted to go watch. I was curious.

A couple minutes later I finally walked into the party, looking around through the crowd of people. I said hi to a group of people I knew, when I heard him.

“Hey everyone, how are you guys feeling tonight?”

The crowd gave a response of shouts and cheers. While everyone looked towards the direction of the stage, I took the distraction as a chance to make my way towards them.

I found my way towards the front, standing behind a couple of people that were a couple of feet from the stage.

And there he was.

He was in a black shirt and black biker jacket with black jeans. His hair was tucked behind his ears, with a few strands in front of his face from slightly leaning down to the mic.

He looked good.

It wasn’t a very big or high stage, being that it’s in someone's house, but it made the view of them much easier to see.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he laughed, “Well, my friends and I here got a song we’d like to perform for you. This one is called 12:51.”

More cheers erupted from the crowd.

I stood there, putting my hands in my jacket pockets, looking up at him. The people in front of me moved slightly to group with their friends, moving me more towards the front.

We made eye contact as I got shoved slightly towards the front. His eyes blinked a couple times, mouth slightly falling open upon seeing me for the first time. He blushed a little before the sound of the bass and drums started to play, snapping him back into reality. He looked down for a second before grabbing the mic and looking back up at me. I kept my gaze neutral, waiting for him to sing.

“Talk to me now, I’m older

Your friend told you ‘cause I told her

Friday nights have been lonely

Change your plans and then phone me”

He pulled away from the mic, clapping to the beat as he kept his gaze on me. He looked sad, not moving from my eyes as he began to sing again.

“We could go and get forties

Fuck going to that party

Oh really, your folks are away now?

Alright, let’s go, you convinced me”

My mouth slightly fell open at the first line, my eyes tearing up as he seemingly sang that line to me. My brows furrowed as I listened to the lyrics.

“12:51 is the time

My voice found the words I sought

Is it this stage I want?

The world is shutting out for us

Oh, we were tense for sure

But we was confident”

He grabbed the mic with both hands, making it obvious he was looking at me as he sang the rest of the song.

“Kiss me, now that I’m older

I won’t try to control you

Friday nights have been lonely

Take it slow but don’t warn me

We’d go out and get forties

Then we’d go to some party

Oh really, your folks are away now?

Alright I’m coming, I’ll be right there”

He stepped back from the mic, panting as the song finished. Everyone began to cheer and clap, as I stood there stunned. A tear had rolled down my cheek sometime before the song finished and I wiped it away as I stood there looking at him.

He looked around at the rest of the crowd briefly, smiling and saying thank you as he blew kisses towards the crowd.

I turned to leave as I pushed my way through the cheering group of people. A few tears begrudgingly fell as I tried to find my way out.

I didn’t know what to think.

The things he mentioned in the song were too specific to be about anyone else. What hurt the most was finding out how he felt about me like this. We hadn’t spoken in over 2 years. Now he’s in a band, writing songs about how he misses me and wants me to kiss him?

Fuck, I need a drink.

I made a detour to the kitchen before leaving to look for some alcohol. The kitchen island had many choices to choose from, all of the bottles sprawled across the table. I grabbed the first one I saw and drank from the bottle.

The burn of the drink going down my throat was exactly what I needed.

I wiped at my mouth with my sleeve as I put the bottle down and took a second to let the liquor go down.

I went back to my original route to the front door, when the group of friends I talked to earlier stopped me.

“Hey where ya going? We’re all thinking of doing s'more shots, wanna join?”

“I think I’m gonna head home, not really in the party mood anymore.”

“D’ya need someone to bring you home?”

I looked around the group, all of them struggling to stand up straight or laughing at nothing.

“No I’ll be fine. Thanks though, have a nice night.”

“Okay byeeeeeeee!!!”

I laughed and shook my head, turning to finish my walk out the door when someone called my name. I knew that voice. It was a voice I could recognize anywhere, no matter the amount of alcohol in my body or the blaring music that resumed over the speakers. I rushed out the door, turning left and speed-walking the way I came.

“Hey! Wait!” I heard the sound of someone running behind me.

Well, shit, I’m not gonna break into a sprint to get away from him.

I stopped walking on the sidewalk, turning around to face him.

He finished jogging up to me, out of breath. He stood there for a second staring at me and panting.

"Did you run over to me just to stare or do you have something you'd like to talk about?"

He laughed faintly, shaking his head at the ground and using his hand to push the side of his hair back.

"Sorry, I- uh, yeah I wanted to talk to you. It's been a while."

"Yup" I said, popping the "p". I lightly rocked back and forth on the heels of my feet as we looked at each other. I was getting impatient with standing here trying to decipher whatever code he was speaking in. Whatever he was trying to say needed to find its way out.

"So, what'd you think of the song?"

"Bucky" I sighed, "I think I should-"

"Y'know you're the only one who ever calls me Bucky"

I stopped mid-sentence, taking a second to process what he said.

"Until you told me to stop. Guess it's a still a habit"

He sighed and looked down, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Listen. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for treating you so badly, and I'm sorry for ditching you like that, and I'm sorry for- well just being an asshole in general, and I-"

"Bucky."

"-know you probably don't want to hear this, because I'm about 3 years late, but I want you to know that I-"

"Bucky."

"miss you. So much. I have ever since I did that to you, and I don't know why I did it, but it took me this long to figure out that-"

"Bucky!"

"I'm in love with you."

He finally looked up at me, finishing his rant and even more out of breath than he was before. I froze, looking at him shocked.

"What?"

"I've loved you since elementary."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My lifelong best friend, who I've been in love with since middle school, who abandoned me freshman year, has been in love with me too. For even longer. My mind was racing with questions.

"Wait- since elementary?"

"Yes."

"And you still are?"

"Yes."

"Even after not talking to me for over 2 years?"

He winced before answering. "Yes."

"Why did you end our friendship like that? How could you do that to me?"

He shook his head, averting his eyes back to the ground as he winced again.

"I'm so sorry, I- I just couldn't- I-I thought that coming into high school you would start making all these friends, and I guess freshman me thought it would be best if I just found some friends first. You know, to soften the blow I guess."

I furrowed my brows, looking at him incredulously.

"So you ended our lifelong friendship because you were scared I'd make friends?"

"Well fuck, when you put it like that-"

"How the fuck am I supposed to put it, Bucky? That's what happened, right?

"Yeah. That's what happened."

We met each other's eyes again. He looked defeated as he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Can you please tell me what you thought of the song" he whispered, blinking slowly at me.

I sighed sharply as my tongue pressed against the side of my mouth.

"Did you mean it? What you said?"

"Every word."

I shivered and shrugged, shaking my head.

"What do you want me to say, James?"

He winced for the third time at the sound of me using his name.

"I want you to say you'll think about forgiving me, I want you to say you feel the same, I want you to be in my life again. I want you."

I shut my eyes for a second and sighed. He's in love with me, and he wants me. He's in love with me. He has been since elementary. He wants me in his life. He loves me. A couple seconds passed before I responded.

"Of course I feel the same way, I have for, like, 5 years. And I'll think about forgiving you. Only because the song was sorta good-"

"Can I kiss you?"

The rest of my sentence died as I looked up at him confused. Did I hear him right?

"What did you say?"

"Can I kiss you?" he repeated, licking his lips as his gaze darted from my eyes to my lips.

"Yes."

He was closing the space between us as soon as the word left my lips. He pulled his hands from his jacket, using them to hold my face as he kissed me.

I leaned into the kiss, trying to ignore the fireworks going off in my stomach.

He moved his hands to go around my waist, wrapping his arms around me to hold me against him. I brought my arms up to wrap around the back of his head as the kiss deepened.

I pulled away and looked at him, running my fingers through his hair as his arms stayed locked around my waist. We smiled at each other as he darted between looking at my eyes and lips. I brushed his hair behind his ears before he spoke.

"What d'ya say we go to your house and sit on the roof, like we used to?"

"What about the drinks?"

"I think the amount of alcohol you chugged in the kitchen should be enough for tonight"

I laughed and kissed him again. With or without the alcohol, I was drunk on Bucky and the happiness in this moment we shared. It felt as if the years without him had turned me into a zombie, and this kiss brought me back to life. An antidote that I didn't know I needed.He eventually put me down as we began to walk back to our street, hand in hand.

I had gotten my best friend back.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes modern au #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky imagine

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mx-barnes · 3 years

Text

Soulmate Au 2/?

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: When you turn 18 you get the name of a song on your wrist. That is the song you and your soulmate share. It is also how you can communicate with them.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: None really.

A/N: Sorry I know it’s short. I have been experiencing a lack of ambition to write. I also felt like I had a duty to post something cause I haven’t posted in a while. Ok I also know the song wasn’t out in the forties but idc ok it’s an amazing song and it reminds me of Bucky and if I am having trouble sleeping I listen to it. Feedback appreciated. All my own writing. Gif not my own

Chapter 1 Masterlist

The alarm clock on your end table reads 6:30 am 30 minutes from before your alarm is supposed to wake you up. It’s not that you didn’t welcome the fact that you were up early than usual but you silently curse yourself hoping to fall back into the pleasant dream you were having. Although you had wanted to meet him in real life, not just the dream world you knew that it wouldn’t happen. If he had stayed hidden from you for this long don’t think you are going to find him in a day. You wish you just had something to go off of. Pulling you out of your thoughts is your cat needling into you. Although he was annoying Alpine loved you. You remember the day you got him. It was soaking rain and you had found a box on the side of the road. You decide to pull over to pick up the garbage lying around on the ground. You pull over the road and go to lift up the box and it was unusually heavy you check inside. To your surprise, there was a small white kitten looking at you with blue eyes. From that day on he was the only man in your life he probably senses that your soulmate is in the picture now so he is being an even bigger attention whore.

You may want to go back to the dream realm but your adult life calls. You roll out of your bed and wrap a small blanket you had at the end of your bed because although you had to get up it didn't mean you didn't have to be warm. You treck your way out of your bedroom and into the kitchen. With your blanket draped over your shoulders you silently make your breakfast. A simple bowl of cheerios. Nothing too extravagant but a simple meal. People may say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day but you have always disagreed with that statement. Give you some coffee and you are good to go. Although that was very particularly healthy you started eating actual food at breakfast. Once you finished your bowl you put it in your sink to be later washed. You walk back into your bedroom and enter your bathroom. You strip and step into the shower. Ket the warm water flows down around your back as you listen to music and sing along. Quietly f course even though you wanted to scream the lyrics. Once you had finished your shower you exited wrapped in a towel and changed.

Slipping into a white low v cut shirt and some beige pants. Walking back into the bathroom quickly dry and straighten your hair leaving just a little bit of wave because you can't fully straighten it. You pull your hair back into a high ponytail leaving two pieces out to frame your face. Quickly, you grab your purse, phone, and keys. Turning to wake towards the door you lock the door and leave to work.

It wasn't a long drive to your job. You worked at Stark Industries. It wasn't the same after Tony died but you still appreciated working there. You and Pepper had become quick friends after bumping into each other in the hallways one day. You were ecstatic for her when she got promoted to CEO. Almost as her first act, she had you instated as her assistant. She gave you fair hours and you didn't mind. There wasn't ever any awkwardness in be between the two of you. Pepper never acted like she was better than you and thank god for that. She was one of the best people you knew she was having a hard time dealing with Tony's death but that was understandable. She had lost her husband and became a single mother. She had the avengers and Happy but it wasn't the same. She had offered for you to meet them time and time again but every time you declined. It's not that you didn't want to meet them. It's just sometimes it's better to never meet your heroes.

By the time you got to the office Pepper was already locked away in her office. You knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," a voice from behind the door says.

You walk in and notice Pepper sitting at her desk as she normally does but her cheeks are tear stained and her eyes are red. "Hey, you are not supposed to be here before me. You should be at home with Morgan."

"Happy has her. I just couldn't be in that house anymore. Hell, I can't even be in New York without thinking about him. He saved this city. He saved the world. I know that it's silly and selfish of me to hide away from my daughter but I just... I look at her Y/n and I see him. I see his smile, his curiosity, I see the playboy he was before he settled down. All I see is him in her and I-"

"Hey, we can get through this together. Me and you." You walked up to her and hugged her. She hugged you back her arms not letting go. You rub her back soothingly. "It's okay it's all gonna be ok."

"You're right. You're right I just got to get this done. Power through this. This feeling I am experiencing will pass."

You hesitate not knowing what to say. Finally, you figure you should tell her. "I saw him."

"Him? Who him?" She straightened up as she questioned.

"My soulmate. I don't know what made me. I was even planning on it but then I got this feeling that I should try it and well I saw him."

"What'd he say?"

"He said he was sorry. He was sorry but he couldn't love me first. I was desperate so I tried again the next night last night. He said..." You were on the verge of tears "He said he was sorry. That he didn't want to hurt me. That he would agree to see me. Only in the dream realm for right now but it's better than nothing. God, he was gorgeous. His eyes sparkled like ice. I just wish I wish I could prove to him how much I love him even if he doesn't want to let me in. I want him to know he deserves all the love in the world.”

“Y/n you got to tell him. You remember how I was when I found out that my boss was my soulmate,” Pepper's eyes dropped sadness filling her eyes. “Listen it doesn’t matter how cold it closed off he seems you need to make the decision if you want to keep him in your life. If all he wants is the dream world then you move on you’ve got to be the one to make the first move.”

“Your right. I should be allowed to be happy.”

<~>

You were a dream come true. After he pushed you away from you you accepted gratefully back into your arms.

Bucky would spend the rest of his life making it up to you. He couldn’t believe his luck. Back in the 40s when he first tried he couldn’t find you then he was shipped off to war so he decided not to try again just encase but here he was almost 80 years later with this gorgeous soulmate. God, he was a sap. He was ready to change for you.

He had told you that you couldn’t meet him yet and that he only could see you in the dream realm for right now. He knew it was the right call even if it hurt him. Even if he wanted to hold you in the real world but he couldn’t not yet. He needed to fix himself before he let you in. He couldn’t let his past hurt you. You were far too important to him. That’s what he did.

He started taking his court-mandated therapy seriously. He needed help and he couldn’t do it on his own. So when he went to meet you that night he told you about it. He went over to his record player and search for the record. Finally, he found it. A picture of Harry James on the cover he slid the disk out of its paper case. Carefully get placed on the record player and dropped the needle. He knew there were better ways to play the song but he found comfort playing it on vinyl like he had many many years ago.

He practically ran back to his little spot on the floor where he slept and slowly the feeling of falling began to happen.

Once the feeling stopped he looked around to find his childhood home once again. He called out still a bit queasy “Hello,”

No response. That was weird. So he called out once again “Hello,”

Again no response he started to panic. Maybe you didn’t come tonight. Maybe you decide he wasn’t worth it.

A voice broke the anxiety building. “Hey, sorry it took me a bit longer today.”

“Yeah no that’s fine I understand.” He smiles slightly.

“So how was your day?” You asked. God, there was something so intoxicating about your voice. It was smooth and angelic. He could listen to it for the rest of his life.

“I mean it was good. I decided to start taking my therapy more seriously I want to get better for you. How was yours?”

“That’s great. My day was ok I guess I mean I was real busy at work.” You moved closer to him his heart picked up.

“Yeah, yeah I guess it good,” Bucky stuttered. I mean you were incredibly gorgeous but he felt safe in your presence not wanting to lose a second of time with you. Slowly his head started spinning and being brought back to reality “Listen I don’t have much time left we meet here again same time tomorrow. Deal?” His voice hopefully searching your eyes for any sign of rejection to his great fortune there wasn’t any.

“Deal.” you stepped up closer to him kissing him on the lips before he was rudely pulled back into reality. He sat up with a start (like gif).

Groaning and grumbling about how it was too soon to be pulled out of and if he only had more time with you.

Chapter 3

Taglist:

@oceanmermaidwitch

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

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yeenybeanies · 3 years

Text

Fujin But He’s A Giant

i wanted to make this longer, but i started it like nine months ago & i’m tired of looking at it, so y’all can have it half-baked lmao

mortal kombat | fujin & megumi hiraoka ( oc )

1,462 words

no warnings

enjoy! reblogs > likes!!

patreon ✨ ko-fi

A storm howled beyond the temple walls, a melancholic choir of wind to the rain’s rhythm. Most would think nothing of it, or perhaps, at most, think it an inconvenience. The Wind God, however, thought differently: he listened deeper, focused the choir of gusts and the percussive beats of rain on stone. He inhaled, pulling the winds into his lungs, and the smell of petrichor with it.

Fujin was not one to revel much in his status as a god––unlike some others he knew. He was a humble deity, and a dedicated protector of Earthrealm, alongside his older brother. Raiden, however, was not quite as close to humanity as Fujin. Where Raiden typically kept to the Sky Temple or to his chosen champions, Fujin often spent time on the surface, among the humans. During his trips, he would usually alter his appearance and immerse himself into humanity, but other times, like now, he chose to retain his godly stature, glowing tattoos and titan’s height and all.

The shrine he’d chosen, a modest structure in the middle of rural, Japanese farmland, was only just tall enough to accommodate him––while seated. On the ceiling, there was a faint crack in the stone, matching a sore spot on his crown. Luckily, no one had been around to bear witness to his moment of clumsiness.

It seemed that no humans were interested in braving this storm. Though the Wind God was not mortal, he could empathize with mortal discomforts the rains and winds brought. And lightning––countless spars with his brother had long-since taught him that lightning was painful.

Fujin drew in another breath. He kept his eyes closed, blocking off his senses so he could narrow his focus on the sounds of the storm. Everything moved as it should. The winds sang their song, the leaves rattled in tune, and the rain kept the rhythm.

Then something broke the rhythm. A new beat echoed just outside of the shrine. Fujin furrowed his brows, but did not yet open his eyes. He instead listened. The sound pitter-pattered, though it was not the rain. No, it was footsteps. They entered the shrine, bringing with them another pitter-patter––the sound of water dripping from soaked clothes.

Curious. So there was a human willing to brave the storm. But why? The Wind God remained still as stone, listening to the human’s movements. They approached slowly, with trepidation, and stopped before the bell and offering box. Fujin waited as the ring of the bell and the coin offering echoed through the shrine, and still a few moments more, until he could no longer restrain his curiosity. One eye opened, and the other followed suit after finding the little body––smaller than he’d expected. Why, the human in the storm was none other than a child, from the looks of it, perhaps in her mid teens. Curious indeed.

The child had her head bowed and her hands pressed together. Her lips moved, voicelessly muttering a prayer. What could she have to say that could not wait until the storm had passed? Furthermore, most humans did not respond so calmly to Fujin when he maintained this form—this forty-foot-tall form. Did she not know that he was here?

Fujin watched for a full minute. She didn’t seem anywhere close to being done. He dared to lean forward a smidge, trying to catch her words. It was then that he noticed yet another oddity: drops of water still rolled down her cheeks. It could have been the rain—she was positively soaked, after all—but the accompanying sniffles and telltale paths the drops took brought him to the conclusion that they were tears. The girl was crying, weeping quietly as she prayed.

This story kept getting stranger and stranger.

The Wind God leaned forward a bit more, mouth open to speak, when the girl looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes. Her sudden movement startled him, stopping any words he was about to say in their tracks, leaving him to stammer lamely. Her subsequent scream, too, startled him.

This was more the reaction he was accustomed to.

Positively frightened, the girl stumbled backwards, very rapidly backpedaling towards the shrine stairs.

“No—wait!” Fujin tried to reach for her, but he only managed to knock over the bell and make her scream again. Her heel found the edge of the top-most step, and, with a brief teeter, her weight tipped backwards. She let out a startled yelp and closed her eyes, bracing for the painful fall down the hard, stone steps. Fujin grit his teeth and motioned with his hand, commanding the wind at her back to lift her and pull her back into the shrine. She remained in a state of shock, even as the winds cradled her and gently set her back down on her feet, safe and sound. Fujin bit the inside of his cheek, feeling foolish and awkward, but relieved that she had not been hurt.

“Are you—“ the girl flinched at his words, though he made sure to keep his voice low. He cleared his throat softly. “Are you… alright, miss?”

It took the girl a long moment to find her voice. “You’re not a statue….”

“Ah, no…. You thought I was…?” That would explain why she hadn’t been immediately afraid of him.

“I… yes…. I have never been to this shrine before….” She stole a glance down at her feet and swiped a hand along her cheeks, brushing away the rain and tear stains.

“I see,” the Wind God leaned forward, chin resting on a loose fist. “I would be lying if I said I was not curious: what brings you here, little one?”

Her feet must have been far more interesting, for the girl continued to stare down at them. Sheepishly she toed at a stain in the stone floor. Her shivers did not go unnoticed. Fujin guessed that he was responsible, though he suspected the cold also played a part. She was silent for a long moment before she answered him.

“My brother––he… he’s been missing for several days now… We were supposed to travel back home three days ago, but I have not been able to find him. Nor have the police.” Her voice quivered, and her eyes threatened to spill more tears. She inhaled sharply, trying to mask her sniffles, and glanced up at Fujin. “I did not know what else to do, where else to go… so I came here to ask the Kami for help. You… who are you?”

Her question drew a soft snort from Fujin, but her story kept him from laughing outright. “I am not the Kami of this shrine, but I am a god, yes. I am Fujin.” Before he could say more, the girl went tense. Stiffly she dropped to her knees and bowed before him. He lifted his hands, but decided against touching her just yet. “Please––no need for that. Little one, rise.”

She hesitated, fighting her compulsion to show respect to the Wind God and to obey his words. Tentatively, she chose to do the latter, though her stiffness remained. Her shaking only seemed to grow in intensity. Fujin frowned, feeling pity for the girl.

“What is your name, little one?”

“Hiraoka Megumi,” she said, head still bowed.

“And your brother?”

“Hiraoka Kazue.” Her shoulders slumped and her voice faltered a little. Just saying her missing kin’s name caused her great distress.

A sudden gust from the storm billowed into the shrine, bringing cold air and chilled drops of rain. The girl––Megumi––flinched and tried vainly to shield her face from the ornery weather. Fujin stole a quick peek outside, then waved his hands, stilling the winds around them. Megumi looked around at the suddenly stagnant shrine, then up at Fujin––just in time to see his large hands approaching her. A startled yelp left her mouth. She retreated a few steps, and his hands paused.

“Easy. You are cold, yes?” He said, hoping his voice sounded soothing. “I am not going to harm you.” Megumi stared at his hands warily, and flinched when they continued towards her, but didn’t move again. Fingers thicker than her arms gently cradled behind her back and legs, lifting her weight from the floor as if it were nothing. To Fujin, it was nothing. He took care not to move too quickly, lest he scare her more. Her little form already shook in his hands like the leaves in the storm outside. Unlike his brother, who was usually very warm to the touch, Fujin was rather cool. Nevertheless, being a god, he could easily adjust his temperature for the girl’s comfort. He smiled down at her, trying to put her at ease.

“Now, tell me about your brother. I may be able to help you find him.”

#g/t #g/t fiction #g/t writing #mk #g/t mk #fujin #megumi hiraoka #hyena writes

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bat-losers-inc · 3 years

Text

Song of Cassandra: Chapter 2

Warnings: Family Drama, Family Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Baggage, and Child Neglect

Summary: What is Batman without a Robin? Everyone in the family makes jokes about the ‘dead robins club’, but Dick and Jason really do have measures set in place for the day Bruce loses sight of what’s really important. They won’t let Bruce sacrifice another Robin for the cause, even if that means separating Robin from Batman for good.

Pairings: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

_____________________________________

Half a year later saw them performing a feat of brotherly bonding he’d never imagined possible: robbing Penguin together.

They’d left the Tricorner district behind in a streak of burnt rubber and a barrage of gunfire and ditched the getaway van in Chinatown at the first available 24-hour parking facility on the other side of the bridge. It was slower going on foot, but Chinatown’s busy night scene, combined with the heavy triad presence in this district, would make Penguin’s men hesitate before going in guns blazing. That was all the time they needed to slip away unseen.

Now, as they emerged from the darkness of the parking deck, Dick yanked the balaclava off his head. He grunted something unintelligible as he shouldered his way through the cluster of pedestrians that crowded the sidewalk.

“What?” asked Jason, pulling his own half-mask down from around his neck and jogging to catch up.

“I said, you’re a real bastard. You promised me this was would be easy!”

Jason glanced at him. He wanted to be sympathetic but he just couldn’t when Dick was glaring at him with that staticky mop of hair. He couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice when he replied, “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t leave a paper trail! This is about as easy as stealing from Penguin’s bagman gets.”

In truth, he thought they were complaining just for the sake of complaining. After six months they both knew that pulling off this heist was less a matter of choice and more a matter of necessity. Failure meant returning to the storage locker Dick had procured outside of Port Adams and staring down their measly little bat-trust-fund: six safehouses, fifteen rolls of Kevlar fabric, a small arsenal, twenty-seven contacts typed into a Word document, and $5,025 split five ways. But what use would kevlar suits be if their siblings couldn’t afford to keep a roof over their heads? No, without the cash it was worth fuck-all.

Dick looked like he wanted to argue the point further but at that moment a convoy of police vehicles shot past them, sirens wailing and horns blaring loud enough to deafen a person. No doubt by now Penguin’s men had informed their boss about the botched exchange and pinned the blame on their nearest rivals, the Ghost Dragons. If that was the case, then Chinatown was a powder keg ready to explode into a minor gang war at any moment.

A flash of light reflected off the windows of a nearby apartment building. Jason stepped in between two parked cars to get a better look and found himself staring up at the cloud-heavy night sky illuminated in the glow of the bat signal.

He gripped the heavy duffel bag full of stolen cash closer to his chest like he expected Gotham’s dark knight to swoop down at any moment and tear it from his shoulder.

“Hey,” Dick tugged at his arm. “time to go.”

Batman was on the way and like the best of Gotham’s criminals, Jason and Dick made themselves scarce.

It took nearly forty minutes and three subway lines to make their way back to the self-storage facility. By then a pale glow had crept up from the horizon and spread across the water. Around them, the street lights began to shut off one after another. In the distance, Jason could just make out a tugboat as it pushed a barge out towards the open ocean.

By the time Dick pulled the storage locker door down behind them, they were tired-eyed and footsore.

Jason threw the duffel bag onto a table and propped himself against it as he fished one-handed under his t-shirt to undo the straps of his protective vest. He sighed in relief as the weight lifted off his shoulders. “How the hell did you stand wearing these things when you were on the force? Even with the undershirt, the chaffing is god-awful.”

“You get used to it,” Dick replied, making quick work of removing his own gear.

Jason doubted it but he was too tired to argue his point further. Instead, he found the six-pack that he’d stashed under the table earlier that day and snapped off a can.

“Heads up,” he called, as he pitched a can underhand to Dick who caught it against his chest.

Dick held it up for inspection. “Warm beer. What I’ve always wanted.”

“Oh shut up and celebrate with me, you asshole.”

He extended his arm across the table. Dick knocked beer cans with him and completely failed at hiding the shy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, though god bless him he tried. “Cheers.”

Jason watched him crack open the top and chuckled as he hurriedly slurped at the foam that erupted over the rim. He knew that this morally gray lifestyle didn’t come easy to Dick but he couldn’t deny that he was happy he had stuck around with him for this long. He didn’t dare to say it out loud, but they actually made good partners.

He took a long drink from his own beer can before putting it aside. “Ok, come on. The faster we count this cash the sooner we can go to bed.”

Jason upturned the duffel bags, sending stacks of cash sliding out onto the metal tabletop while Dick pulled the banknote counter from the corner and lugged the machine up next to the pile. Together they started slipping the currency bands loose and feeding the stacks of cash into the machine, watching eagerly as the sum continued to tick upwards.

“Soo…” Jason drummed his thumbs on the table as the numbers continued to flash on the small screen, “How are things going with you and Babs?”

“What?” Dick’s eyebrows drew together. “Why?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m a little curious about what she thinks you do when you’re out late all the time… also, I’m bored.”

“You’re weird, is what you are.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Seriously? We’ve only spent the past six months together moonlighting as vigilante survivalists and I can’t ask one time how your love life is going.”

“No, no. Sorry, you’re right.” Dick held up a hand. “I told her I’ve been helping you out with an undercover case for a couple of months now. Said I owed you a favor.”

Jason grinned at him. “Well, that’s not a lie. Quite a few actually, but who’s counting.”

Dick punched him in the shoulder. “Actually, I should call her. Reassure her you didn’t get me killed before she calls in a search party.”

Jason chuckled and went back to the task of feeding bills into the machine as Dick rummaged through the backpack and fished out his phone.

“Hey, uhh...”

Jason glanced up and took in Dick’s furrowed expression as he stared down at his phone. He put down the stack of cash he was holding. “What’s the matter?”

“Something happened while we were out. I — shit I don’t know how to explain it but I’ve got like 15 missed messages from Barbara and Alfred. Did you bring your phone with you?”

Jason grabbed his backpack where his own phone was stashed and opened it to find a similar mass of missed calls and incoherently excited messages cluttering the screen. Some of the numbers he recognized, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred were all saved in his phone, but a few were from unknown senders. If he had to venture some guesses he’d say Cass, Duke… maybe Harper? Fuck, he never realized this many bat brats had his number. “I don’t get it… something about Tim? What about hell?”

“I’m calling Babs.”

Jason was aware of how uncomfortably loud their breathing sounded in the small storage locker as they stood around the table waiting for Dick’s call to connect.

“Dick?” Barbara’s voice asked loudly through the speaker. “Thank God! Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling you.”

“Sorry, undercover mission, remember? What’s the big emergency? I didn’t get anything from Bruce.”

“You need to get back to the manor. Bruce found Tim!”

That didn’t make any sense. “What? You mean Bruce found Tim’s remains?”

Jason smacked his arm. “His remains? Are you fucking serious? What remains could Bruce possibly find after a death like that?”

“I don’t know, bone fragments—”

Dick’s argument sounded flimsy the moment it left his mouth and they both knew it. Jason just really hated to be the one who had to say it.

“If the heat from that explosion didn’t finish him off entirely then the pounding impact of like a hundred thousand missiles definitely did in whatever remains might have been left.”

“Guys—” called Babs.

“Oh, so you’re a forensic scientist now? You don’t know that—“

“Yes, I do!” He slammed a hand down on the table, his anger flaring. He really couldn’t do this backslide back into denial with Dick again. “There’s a reason we buried an empty box. Tim is literally dust in the wind.”

“Jesus Christ!” Barbara’s voice erupted loudly through the speakerphone. “Kill it with the broody back and forth already and actually listen to me, would you? I’m not talking about bone fragments or anything like that. I’m saying Bruce found Tim. Tim! He’s alive.”

Jason met Dick’s eyes over the phone, confusion written as starkly across Dick’s face as it must have been on his own. “What? I— What?”

“I really don’t understand it all myself. But Tim said he’s been held captive by Mr. Oz in another dimension for this whole time. Can you believe it? All this time we thought he was dead and...”

Jason didn’t catch that last bit. He was too busy bent over the table as all the blood rushed to his head.

He was gonna hurl. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

They’d all given up on the hope of Tim miraculously surviving a long time ago and this sudden news felt like he was experiencing emotional whiplash. This had to be some kind of sick joke or a trick... a doppelganger sent by the newest enemy on the rise against Batman.

Dick’s thoughts were apparently spiraling in the same direction as his own for he ran a hand roughly across his mouth and asked, “You saw him yourself? You’re sure it’s him, our Tim?”

But it wasn’t a big cosmic joke. As much as Jason couldn’t believe it, it wasn’t and that was made clear with every new piece of information Babs gave them.

“Yes, he was standing right in front of me only an hour ago — crying and hugging everyone.”

Dick turned to look at Jason, but he was already rounding the table and yanking Dick into a bruising hug.

“He’s alive,” Dick cried into the shoulder of his t-shirt. His voice overflowed with the most contagiously hysterical mixture of joy. Jason laughed through his own tears. “You bet your ass he is!”

He couldn’t explain what had come over him. He and Dick had never really been close — and they definitely weren’t huggers — but the last few months had been so full of this gnawing air of anxiety — their family continuing to fracture, the resources running dry — that the full realization was starting to hit them that this plan might have been formed too late to do any real good. They could feel the clock running out and they were both expecting the other shoe to drop any day now but then out of the blue… this.

Dick pushed away from him suddenly and wiped at his eyes.

“Uh…” he tried to clear his throat. “We, uh, we should get back to the cave and go see him for ourselves. Babs, he still there, right?”

“Yeah, Bruce is debriefing him.”

And just like that, Jason’s joy seized painfully in his chest. It hurt the way a seatbelt does in a car crash, knocking the air out of your lungs and bringing you up short. He watched Dick rush around him, grabbing up his belongings in a disorganized fashion.

“Dick, I can’t come with you.”

“What?” Dick asked, breathless. He turned back from the door. “Yes, you can. C’mon, get your stuff, the money can wait till tomorrow.”

Jason shook his head. Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to explain this to him without looking like the one asshole member of this family who didn’t want to visit his little brother recently brought back from the dead.

Dick paused, his hand dropping from the door handle. “What? Because of what happened between you and Bruce?”

I was a fool for ever believing in you. Even now Bruce’s words lingered at the back of his head. An invisible brand that still held its heat.

“Jason, I know what went down between you and Bruce was… heavy, to say the least, but you’re still family. You do know that, right? You’re still my family and if you want to see Tim, Bruce can do fuck-all to stop it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jason could only huff a sad laugh at that because God did he want to believe that too, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. Tim would always be his family, but Bruce… he’d crossed a point of no return with Bruce on the night that the fortress was destroyed. The violence of his assault had done more than break a few bones— it had finally shattered that last shred of trust he’d stupidly harbored in him that when push came to shove Bruce would value the son over the soldier. I broke his rules for the last time and now he sees me as nothing more than an unredeemable criminal that escaped Batman’s justice. One of his little soldiers gone AWOL.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… I can’t face him yet— I—” he trailed off. He’d been laying low since his return to Gotham, but even still Jason thought the only reason he’d survived this long was because Bruce was too consumed with Tim’s death to spend a spare thought on him. He wasn’t ready to walk into that cave tonight and find out what would happen now that Tim was back in the picture and Bruce’s anger focused back on him.

It felt like a horrible selfish thing to think about saving his own skin when his little brother had come back from the dead, but as his eyes lingered at the collection of items piled around the storage locker he was reminded that no one was going to do it for him. After all, that was how this plan had all started right? Someone had to be the one to craft the safety net for the next Robin to fall of Batman’s mighty pedestal.

“You should go. Tell Tim I’m glad he inherited my cockroach-like ability to not stay dead.”

“Jason…” Dick twisted the jacket he held in his hands.

“Go.” It came out sharper than he’d intended, despite his best efforts to push his emotions down. He was quick to try to smooth it over with a tight smile that he knew fooled neither of them. “I’ll stop by his apartment tomorrow once all the hype has died down. Besides, someone needs to finish up here.”

He nodded at the banknote counter.

The one thing he’d always valued about Dick, more than his caring nature, was that he knew when to stop pushing an issue.

“Alright,” Dick shifted his grip on his jacket again. His phone was chiming once more in the back pocket of his jeans. No doubt another family member asking where he was. “I’ll call you tomorrow to check in.”

“Sure.”

After the door to the storage locker fell shut, Jason let his gaze travel around the room again. So Tim was back, alive and well as far as any of them were concerned. A nagging part of Jason’s mind wondered worriedly if gaining him back would slowly undo all the plans they had made together. Would Dick continue to worry about the next crisis to befall their little family or would Tim’s return renew his neverending faith in the impossible until he eventually forgot what it was that drove him to his breaking point?

Jason picked up another stack of banknotes and slid it into the machine. As the numbers continued to rise once more he did his best to prepare himself for the idea that he would be alone in this mission once more. Another bitter pill to swallow but he couldn’t do it. It lodged itself raw and unpleasant at the back of his throat.

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hxlyhead-harpies · 3 years

Text

Fearless (S.H.)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve tries to make your ruined prom night a little bit better. Based on Fearless by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2,1k

Warnings: None

A/n: this was previously posted on my old blog @/kissingsucks. I deleted that blog a while ago but I want to repost some of my old work from there. It’s been slightly edited because it kind sucked lmao

You honestly didn’t know why you thought this night would go well. You’d spent hours getting ready; perfectly curling your hair, painstakingly applying makeup, and slipping into your beautiful deep red dress. You and Robin had sat giggling in your room and listening to music, preparing for the night ahead: prom. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Robin insisted. Neither of you had gone to many dances throughout high school and she decided that the two of you needed the ‘experience’. So you begrudgingly agreed and bought a pretty dress from Macy’s at the mall the next town over. After getting ready the two of you sat on your porch, waiting for your ride. Eventually, Steve pulled up in his car and stuck his head out the window.

“Wow, you two clean up nice!” He yelled. You and Robin laughed before hopping in. You called shotgun and Robin climbs into the back, mumbling under her breath. Steve turned up the radio before speeding off towards the school.

•••

Steve pulls up in front of Hawkins High and turns to you and Robin.

“Ok both of you,” he says in a mock authoritative tone. You see Robin roll her eyes and a smile creeps across your face.

“No drinking, no drugs, and you must keep a three-inch distance between you and your dance partners,” he says, listing each rule off on his fingers.

“Ok dad,” Robin replies sarcastically. You chuckle before jumping out of the car.

“We’ll be fine Steve,” you assure him. He sighs before reminding you that he’ll pick you and Robin up at eleven. The two of you wave and he drives off.

“I wish we could’ve convinced him to come,” you say to Robin as the two of you make your way to the front door. Robin shrugs before replying, “he graduated last year he’s probably too embarrassed to show up here”. You nod, knowing that it’s probably the truth. But deep down you wished he would decide to come along. When Robin had suggested attending prom, you had imagined the three of you dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Steve in a gorgeous, well-fitting suit. It was a silly fantasy. A result of an even sillier crush on Steve Harrington. It had developed over the summer. You had worked at Scoops Ahoy along with him and Robin, and there was just something about watching him flirt with girls in the stupid sailor costume that made you blush. You thought you did a pretty good job at hiding it but you were convinced Robin knew. Though Steve still seemed oblivious, and for that you were glad. You didn’t want to destroy your friendship. You and Robin push open the doors to the gym and step inside. The dance was themed “city lights” and the gym was adorned with metallic streamers and colorful lights. You smiled widely, and step in, high hopes for the night ahead.

•••

But here you are, an hour later, sitting alone on the bleachers. Prom had been fun for about fifteen minutes. You and Robin danced to Duran Duran and you were practically squealing with happiness. Then you went to grab a cup of punch. The line was long, it took you nearly five minutes to grab cups for you and Robin. You turned around, only to see her huddled in a corner with none other than Tammy Thompson. She was smiling wide and the two were speaking in hushed whispers. You sighed, realizing you couldn’t interrupt her now. If you did you know she’d kill you later. So you trek up the bleachers and drink both cups of punch. And you sit. And sit. And sit. You were too scared to dance alone, and nobody seemed interested in asking you to dance. Robin and Tammy were still off in their own world and there was no hope of stealing Robin back anytime soon. So you found the closest chaperone and asked to use one of the office phones.

•••

The phone rang once before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Steve it’s (Y/n),” you reply.

“Hey, is everything ok?” He questions.

“Um…” You’re unsure how to answer. “Can you just come pick me up?” you say. You hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Yeah give me a few minutes and I’ll be over to pick you guys up,” he replies.

“It’s just me,” you tell him. “Robin is staying.” The shuffling stops.

“Oh. Well, I’ll be there soon anyway,” he says before the line goes dead. You smile at the chaperone and head outside to wait

•••

A mere fifteen minutes later Steve’s car pulls up. It had begun to rain and your hair had lost the artificial curls you’d spent hours perfecting. You sit on a bench out front, your hands crossed against your chest. As soon as you see him you jump up and practically run to the car. As soon as you got in Steve gives you a questioning look.

“Jeez y/n what happened to you.”

“Nothing Steve, it just got boring,” you reply in a huff. Steve furrows his eyebrows.

“Where’s Robin?” he questions.

“She’s talking to Tammy,” you reply and Steve nods, understanding dawning on him.

“No one else to talk to?” he questions. You shake your head.

“I only danced for like ten minutes it was so stupid,” you reply, letting your annoyance show in your tone. You heard Steve chuckle beside you. You steal a quick glance at him. He’s staring down at the steering wheel in front of him, hair in his eyes. Under the soft glow of the singular street light of the parking lot, he looks almost angelic.

“Well that’s not a real prom experience,” he says turning towards you. You shrug before averting your eyes, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. You sit in comfortable silence for a moment, and you wonder when Steve is going to put the car in drive. But instead, he suddenly turns up the random Janet Jackson song playing on the radio and throws open his door. He steps out into the rain, practically soaking his t-shirt immediately, and runs around to your side of the car. He opens your door and extends his hand to you.

“What are you doing Steve,” you question. He smiles widely before grabbing your hand and pulling you outside.

“I’m giving you the full prom experience,” he answers mischievously. You stand in front of him, feeling the cold rain run down your shoulders. Steve begins dancing badly, wildly jumping around and swinging his arms.

“Steve!” you yell, scanning the parking lot to make sure no one can see you.

“Come on Y/n! Have some fun!” he yells back at you. You hug your arms close to your chest. Not quite sure what to do. Steve runs over and grabs your hands, forcing you to jump along to the music with him. You giggle which causes Steve’s smile to widen. Eventually, the two of you are drenched, laughing wildly, and clumsily dancing with each other. The pavement seems to glow under the streetlight and the thunder rolling in the background makes the moment feel magical. You stop for a moment to catch your breath and you grasp Steve’s hands. He holds them to his chest. Staring at you, smiling and breathing heavy. His hair is wet and matted against his forehead, his cheeks are a deep rosy red, most likely from the cold, and he has never looked so beautiful. Suddenly the radio crackles, a commercial break interrupting the music. And the moment is broken. Steve drops your hands and straightens quickly. You blink, the magic you felt only moments earlier dissipating.

“I should uh, get you home,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You nod, and head for the car. Your soaked dress squishes as you lower yourself into your seat and you make a face. You hear Steve chuckle slightly beside you.

He puts the car in drive and heads off towards your house.

He drives along the road, the radio quietly playing, filling the silent air. You look at him, trying not to be too obvious. He runs his hands through his wet hair and you feel a pull in your gut; yearning. You had been kidding yourself. It wasn’t simply a silly little crush. It was a butterflies explode in your chest kind of crush. A sweaty palms and averting eyes kind of crush. A type of crush that is always in your mind, occupying your dreams and thoughts. The kind of crush that never gives you a moment to breathe. The kind of crush you’d dance in a storm with, ruining your best dress, just for the chance to be close to them. And as you’re lost in your thoughts, Steve looks over to you in the passenger's seat and gives you a small smile. You’re frozen, unable to look away from his deep brown eyes. And for a moment he looks like he wants to say something but then the light turns green and he turns back to the road. You look away, your cheeks burning, and stare at your hands.

A few minutes later, Steve pulls into your driveway.

“Well here we are,” Steve says, staring up at your house. You turn slightly towards him.

“Thanks for the ride. Sorry I made you leave early to get me,” you say quietly.

“Hey don’t worry about it. I’ll always be around to give you a ride if you need it,” he says, turning towards you. You glance at the clock on his dashboard and curse under your breath. Steve furrows his brows and glances at the clock himself. It is ten forty-five.

“I should go inside, you probably have to pick up Robin now,” you mumble, fumbling with the door handle.

“Here I’ll walk you up,” Steve says, unbuckling his seat belt.

The two of you walk up the walkway towards your front door. The silence that hangs between you is awkward, something that has never happened with you and Steve before. You arrive at your door and you dig in your small clutch for your keys. You find them and put your key in the lock before turning to Steve.

“Thanks for picking me up early,” you say to him. He shrugs, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah no problem,” he says, kicking a rock off your porch. You start to turn towards the door but stop yourself.

“And thanks for the mini dance party back at school. You stopped my night from totally sucking,” you say with a slight laugh. Steve smiles slightly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah of course, glad I could help,” he replies. You smile, waiting to see if he’ll say more but he doesn’t. For a fleeting moment, you feel brave and you lean over and give Steve a quick peck on the cheek. He jumps back, eyebrows furrowed.

“(Y/n) I…” He looks at you, confusion clearly written on his face. You cringe before turning to escape into your house. You wonder how you could’ve been so stupid, thinking he might’ve felt the same way. But before you can step into your house a hand grabs your arm and pulls you back. You turn and lock eyes with Steve. His eyes are soft but determined and his face is tense. Before you have a moment to think his lips crash into yours. For a moment the kiss is awkward, teeth knocking into each other. But then the two of you find a rhythm and it’s flawless. You pull away, gasping for air. Steve smiles down at you, his eyes blown, a soft smile gracing his face. For a moment the two of you stare at each other, the air practically buzzing. Steve leans down and kisses your forehead before pulling away.

“Well I guess I better go pick up Robin,” he says, chuckling.

“Yeah she‘ll kill you if you're late,” you say breathlessly. Steve squeezes your hand before turning and heading back to his car. You stand at your door and watch him climb into his seat. Before he drives away he sticks his head out the window.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, but you look beautiful!” he yells to you. You giggle, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush before thanking him. He pulls out of your driveway and drives off. You finally open up your front door and collapse against the door frame. And you sit and wonder why you thought this night was going to go horribly. Because it turned out to be the best night of your life.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine

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