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quickspinner · 3 years

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New Year, New Life

A little sequel to All I Want for Christmas is a New Beginning

It's been a year since a certain cute elf met a certain hot single uncle waiting in line to bring his niece to see Santa. A year since she ran away from him and fate--or rather Juleka--brought them back together again. A year since they kissed at midnight after Alya's annual New Year's party.

It's once again time for Alya's New Year's party, and with all the possibilities of a brand new year before them, Marinette and Luka can't help but be excited about it.

Technically I feel like I should be posting this tomorrow, but I wrote it for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Challenge which closes today, so Happy New Year just a little bit early! The prompt was "New Year’s party with a New Year’s kiss" and it seemed like the perfect chance to revisit these two. You don't really HAVE to have read the previous fic to get this one, but it will have a little more context and impact if you do. 3 15-minute sprints with 24 hours to edit. I did it all in less than 12 hours, but I also added a good five or six hundred words in the ‘editing’ phase, so...make of that what you will.

😆

It was amazing how many things could change in a year, Marinette thought, grinning up at Luka and leaning back into him as they moved together with practice ease. Just like last year, he had joined her at Alya’s annual party after playing his own New Year’s gig, in the same ballroom of the Grand Paris that Alya had rented last year. As soon as he’d arrived and done the obligatory greeting and handshakes and bises where necessary, he’d coaxed her to the dance with him, just like that first time. It was easy to agree; after a year of dating him, she was no longer awkward on the dance floor. They swayed and rolled and dipped together, both grinning and neither with eyes for anyone but each other. His hands on her body were not so light or hesitant as they’d once been, and frequently they were not so carefully respectful anymore either. She bumped her hip into him and gave him a pout for teasing her, which just made him lean down and catch her mouth in a brief kiss.

Marinette giggled and faced him, sliding her arms up around his neck as his hands found her waist and pulled her close.

“Hey!” Alya yelled as she danced past them, one hand holding a drink as the other waved in the air. “No making out on the dance floor!”

“Since when?” Marinette hollered after her, and then pulled Luka down for a prolonged kiss, just to make her point. He tasted like champagne, and Marinette had to stop kissing him because she couldn’t stop smiling.

“I”m almost sorry this year is ending,” she told him, rubbing a hand along his arm tenderly. Luka gathered her up in a hug, and then dropped his arm to slide around her waist, guiding her off the dance floor. They wandered together towards the windows, cuddling together as they looked out over the city lights.

“I love you,” Luka murmured, and the words still gave her a little shiver. She pressed closer to him.

“I love you too,” she sighed happily.

“It has been a spectacular year,” Luka continued, squeezing her hip. “But I gotta say that I’m looking forward to this year even more.”

Marinette hummed and looked up at him. “Why’s that?”

Luka took a deep breath, glancing back behind him as he slipped a hand in his pocket. Curving his body towards her slightly so no one else could see, he held up the small velvet box between them.

Marinette stared at the box for a stupefied moment, and then her eyes snapped up to his. A smile quirked the edge of his mouth, and he nodded at her with a soft look. Slowly she took the box, turning slightly towards him as well as she opened it to further shield them from the party. The ring nestled inside removed any doubt as to what was going on. She stared at it, overcome.

“I’d get down on one knee but I’m pretty sure that would give us away,” Luka murmured. “Marinette, this has been the best year of my life, and I want every year from now on to be just like it. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Marinette managed to gasp, and Luka plucked the ring out of the box, taking it with his other hand and snapping it shut, popping it back in his pocket before anyone else could see. As calm and smooth as he appeared, his hands were shaking when he took Marinette’s hand and carefully, deliberately slid the ring on her finger. As soon as it was there, Marinette pressed against him, burying her face in his chest. She could feel him taking slow, deep breaths with extended exhales, and smiled to herself. He was a cool customer, her Luka, but she knew his cues now. He’d been nervous as hell. She stayed there until her own jumbled nerves were settled and his breathing was more normal. Then she looked up at him, and as soon as her face was tilted high enough, he bent down and kissed her, slow and deep, and his heart fluttered wildly under the hands she placed on his chest.

“It’s not midnight yet!” Alya called, and they both turned to see her approach.

“Traditions are for the weak, Césaire,” Luka called back, grinning fit to split his face. Marinette opened her mouth to get rid of her dearest friend, but before she had a chance, Alya let out a shriek.

“MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”

Before Marinette could blink, Alya was at her side, grabbing at her left hand. Marinette flushed deeply and behind her Luka chuckled. She looked up at him, and he shrugged, though a blush was painting his cheeks as well.

“How could you not tell me?” Alya said, examining the ring.

“I haven’t had time ,” Marinette snorted, snatching her hand back. “Way to ruin the moment, Alya.”

“Now?” Alya gaped, looking up between them. Then she recovered and put a hand on her cocked hip. “Really, Couffaine? You couldn’t wait until midnight?”

“Nope,” Luka said easily, without shame. “Gotta seize the moment when it comes.” He winked at Marinette. “Besides, now I get to kiss my fiancée at midnight.”

Marinette turned bright red and felt as if there were no air in the room. She hadn’t even had time to process and then he had to go and say that . Alya burst out laughing and shoved Marinette back into Luka’s arms. They folded around her and squeezed, and she snuggled close.

“All right, all right,” Alya laughed, “I'll keep the secret a little longer so you two can have your moment, but I’m making an announcement at midnight and you two are going to smooch in front of everybody . If you’re going to upstage my party you’d better do it right!”

When she was gone, Marinette sighed, resting her chin on Luka’s chest and peeking up at him. “Sorry,” he smiled. “Maybe I should have waited until we were alone, but it just...seemed like the right time.”

Marinette smiled, and then lifted her head to kiss his chin. “It was. It was perfect.”

“If it’s too soon, you can tell me,” Luka said, squeezing her lightly. “It’s not a one-time offer. You don’t have to wear it if you’re not ready. Or you can wear it for as long as you want to, and we don’t have to set a date until—”

Marinette rolled her eyes, straightened, and took his face between her hands. “Luka. I’m ready. I want to marry you.”

He flushed at that, and the grin on his face was so wide and boyish and so unlike his usual smooth smirk, that she had to laugh. “Silly,” she muttered as he pulled her close again.

Luka shrugged. “It’s not like the first time I jumped the gun. I don’t want you suddenly freaking out and making a run for it on me again,” he teased.

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, too outraged to even scold him properly. “Oh, you—argh!” She drew back and whacked his arm, but she did it with her left hand, which just drew her eyes back to the glittering stone on her finger—wow, it was sparkly, no wonder Alya had noticed it right away—and then she was all smiles again.

“Dance with me some more,” Luka urged, catching both her hands in his and tugging her after him.

Marinette joined him gladly, and maybe her eyes kept straying to that sparkle where her hand rested on his shoulder, and maybe his hand kept sliding up her arm to caress her fingers or hold her hand to his chest, and maybe for once midnight came a little too soon for either of them.

A few minutes before midnight, their attention was drawn from each other to Alya, who had gotten a microphone from Nino and climbed up on a table.

“Everybody ready for the countdown?” she hollered, and there was a chorus of cheers. “Marinette and Luka, get up here.”

Marinette groaned, but took Luka’s hand and led him toward Alya’s table, accepting the inevitable.

“Hold up that hand, Marinette, and flash us all that rock!” Alya demanded, leaning down to grab Marinette’s wrist and wave her ringed hand in the air. “Check it out, folks, and remember you heard it here first! These two lovebirds are tying the knot. Max, who wins the pool?”

Marinette snatched her hand back, her mouth dropping open in outrage. “ Pool? ”

“Yep,” Alya grinned. “Been running since June. So who picked New Year’s Eve?”

Markov flew up to Alya’s side and she held out the microphone for the little robot.

“The winner of the Couffaine-Dupain-Cheng engagement pool is Jonathon C.”

Alya frowned, pulling the microphone back. “Okay, who’s—”

Luka coughed, behind Marinette. “That would be me.” Marinette turned to stare at him, and he winked at her. “Luka Jonathan Couffaine.”

“Oh you filthy cheater,” Alya screeched, kicking him and nearly falling off the table. “How did you even— Max ?”

Max held up his hands, but no one could hear him over the uproar.

“He filled out the web form with all the pertinent information,” Markov observed. “There is no rule excluding Luka from participating, nor any rule against using a middle name for registration. Luka’s entry is valid. I shall transfer the appropriate amount to the account you designated.”

“Thanks, Markov,” Luka said, and the pure Couffaine shit-eating grin on his face robbed Marinette of any ability to be mad at him. “I appreciate you all funding the ring.”

Alya groaned. “Oh my G—okay, you know what, the countdown��s about to start, so you two get up here. I expect one world class smooch for that, Couffaine.”

“Sorry, Alya, I’m in a very committed relationship,” Luka laughed, but while Alya scowled at him and insisted he knew what she meant, he pulled over a chair and graciously offered his hand to help her down from the table. Then he helped Marinette up, and carefully joined her.

“I hope these tables are sturdy,” Marinette muttered under her breath as the countdown began.

“So what kind of a show are we making here?” Luka asked her, raising his eyebrows.

Marinette smirked at him. “I’ll handle it. Just put your arms around my neck and don’t struggle or we’re both going to fall off this thing.”

Luka’s eyebrows lifted higher but there was no time for more questions.

“Five,” the crowd screamed, waving their champagne glasses. "Four!"

“Three,” Marinette murmured, her eyes fixed on Luka. “Two.” She hooked one leg behind his knee and put her arms around his waist. He put his arms around her neck as she’d instructed. “One.”

She dipped him back over her thigh. “Whoa!” Luka gasped, and then grinned, and leaned up so she could reach him, and the crowd roared “Happy New Year,” as they kissed, oblivious to both the cheering and the camera flashes going off all around them.

Later, they would watch the year’s first sunrise together through the windows, pressed tight under a blanket on the couch, and sit quietly with the gravity of all that had passed, in the contentment of each other’s company.

But just as that moment, the fireworks and cheers and celebration seemed a perfect background to a kiss that went on until Marinette’s trembling arms forced her to break it. Luka laughed breathlessly as she hauled him up, and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

“You’re amazing,” he told her, as the music resumed. He got down from the table, and then reached up to catch her waist and lift her down beside him.

“Think Alya will be satisfied?” Marinette giggled.

“If she’s not, I’m more than happy to try a do-over,” Luka grinned, and then lowered his forehead to hers. “I love you.”

Marinette smiled, cupping his cheek. “Happy New Year, Luka.”

“Happy new life, Marinette.”

#quickspins #lbsc sprint fic challenge #lbsc sprint fic #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #promptfic #quicksprints

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gingerreggg · 3 years

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Written in Stone (Jonawagon AU)

(hey gingerreggg it’s desiree237, i found your tumblr! i commented on your post on AO3 about a jonawagon fic that your Hands of Life AU reminded me of, but as i don’t have a working AO3 as of the moment i searched for your account so you can see it as i found it. enjoy :D )

**resending this cause i think tumblr ate it the first time T_T**

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“Isn’t he magnificent?” said Speedwagon with a sigh, as he overlooked the plot of land that was once the Joestar Mansion. This old, hallowed ground had seen greater days, long since forgotten, as times had changed in the fifty years that had passed, and, formerly the site of a desperate struggle of good against evil, was now but an unassuming public park– a park where children played blissfully unaware of the drama that had played out here many decades ago.

Speedwagon’s tired old eyes, however, focused on the park’s centerpiece: a towering monument of none other than the truest friend and noblest soul Speedwagon had ever known: Jonathan Joestar. Carved of polished white marble by Speedwagon himself and standing over eight feet in height– far taller than Jonathan had been in life– the monument was sculpted in his perfect likeness, his noble, handsome face gazing bravely into the distance as he brandished a sword, a chrome-tinted replica of the one Jonathan bore, silently posed in a stance of fearless combat.

It took years, many years, of hard labor from Speedwagon’s part. But he felt it was all worth it. Carefully, lovingly, he had chipped away at the marble block bit by miniscule bit, slowly but surely recreating the figure, the face, of a man so worthy of admiration.

Of a man who, by his own selflessness, was gone forever– but deserved to be remembered by those who were not fortunate enough to have known him as closely as Speedwagon had.

A tear streamed from Speedwagon’s eye as eight-year old Joseph, Jonathan’s grandson, tugged at Speedwagon’s sleeve. “Uncle Speedy? Who is that statue, anyway?”

His query broke Speedwagon’s heart a little. Poor Joseph never knew his grandfather. And Jonathan…he perished on the day of his honeymoon: never to hear his child’s voice, see his face, or partake in the joy of his son becoming a father himself. A family who had to grow in his absence.

So much had been lost that day.

Speedwagon wiped away a tear with a sniffle. “That, Joseph, is your grandpa, Jonathan. He was the strongest, bravest, gentlest man I ever knew. He would have loved to have met you,” he said to Joseph, lovingly ruffling the little boy’s messy brown hair.

“I wish I’d met him too,” little Joseph piped up.

“I wish…” Speedwagon sighed, gazing at the gorgeous, but lifeless, face that stared blankly into nothingness. “I wish he was still here.”

The sun was setting, and Speedwagon knew Joseph had to go home soon, as at his age he was still going to school, and thus needed to go to bed early.

“Jorge?” Speedwagon called out to his companion at the park. “Would you mind taking Joseph home with you? I just…need to stay a little longer,” he sighed, sadly.

“Sure thing, Uncle Robbie,” grinned Jorge. “Joseph? Jojo! It’s time for us to come home!” he hollered, calling his son back to return home for the night, after a long day at the park.

And soon, Speedwagon was all alone, as night began to fall.

Fifty years. It had been fifty years since he had lost Jonathan. He had left that fateful day, on what had been meant to be the happiest day of his life, with Erina, and Speedwagon couldn’t have been more proud to see him off. But then came the tragic news: that the ship had gone down in flames– and that Jonathan was dead. Speedwagon felt a heavy guilt in his heart. That he had been absent when Jonathan needed him. And now, he would never see his face again, only in stone, and in his memories.

It was so long ago, but his heart still hurt. He loved Jonathan more than anyone else. Perhaps as a true friend. And perhaps…even more.

Sitting sadly by the statue’s pedestal, he gazed up at his marble creation. He marveled at its perfection, and reveled in Jonathan’s memory, so fresh and bright in his mind, that had allowed him to shape such a facsimile of his fallen friend. How could someone forget somebody like Jonathan? So beautiful in both body and heart, forever etched as a tantalizing, bittersweet memory in Speedwagon’s soul.

“If only you could see us now, Jojo,” he whispered to the statue, running his hand mournfully over its smooth, marble fingers. “If only you could talk, and tell me how you feel about all I’d done in your honor.” He began to weep, his tears landing on the statue’s polished feet. “I miss you, old chap.”

“I wish you were still with us.”

Unknown to Speedwagon, a brilliant streak of light arced across the heavens above, flashing for a moment and vanishing in the darkness. Some called them meteors. But to others, they were known by a more hopeful moniker: wishing stars.

“I wish I had you back, Jojo.”

Suddenly, to Speedwagon’s surprise, the ground began to shake, rumbling beneath him and rustling the trees of the park, which swayed ominously as the terrified old man glanced around in a panic.

“An earthquake…” Speedwagon gasped. He had to get to safety, somehow. Seeking shelter beneath a sturdy bench, Speedwagon dashed for cover, crouching down in terror under the bench as the entire park was rocked by tremors of the earth itself. He hoped Jorge and Joseph were somewhere safe.

And then, he heard a loud cracking noise, and his heart sank like a stone at sea.

Before his horrified eyes, the feet of Jonathan’s statue broke loose from the pedestal. For a moment the statue remained upright, as defiant and proud as Jonathan had been– and then slowly, it began to tilt and fall, and Speedwagon could only watch in grief and horror as his magnum opus, his tribute to a lost beloved, came crashing down to the ground with a colossal thud.

“No,” Speedwagon tried to say, but no sound came out of his lips.

As the shaking came to a halt Speedwagon scrambled out of his hiding spot and rushed to the pedestal, his heart pounding, his chest heaving. Years of work, destroyed in moments. Just like Jonathan had been. Gone in an instant.

But as he bent over to assess the damage, he saw something that he couldn’t have forseen. The statue was intact, save for the sword that had fallen from its grasp, but it seemed to have changed its position. He had carved his figure in noble repose, but now it lay sprawled pitifully upon the ground. Speedwagon blinked. Perhaps he was just imagining things. Perhaps he was hallucinating from his emotional pain.

And right at that moment, he heard a voice– a voice he never thought he would ever hear again.

“W-where…am I?” came a deep, rich voice that seemed to emanate from the statue itself.

Jonathan’s voice.

And before his eyes, as his jaw dropped in a mixture of fear and amazement, he beheld something that should have been impossible, by all rational means: the statue began to move on its own.

Massive marble hands gripped onto the ground while powerful stony arms heaved his bulk upward. His feet, once fixed to the pedestal, had come off clean at the soles, and with two stumbling strides the statue found its footing and rose to its full height: towering above Speedwagon as its head turned to face Speedwagon, a magical, ethereal blue glow illuminating the figure’s eyes.

Speedwagon froze in fright as the stony colossus towered over him. Was the statue possessed by some dark magic, strange wizardry, a demon perhaps? Speedwagon knew, after having witnessed things like a mask that transformed men into vampires, that supernatural happenings were certainly not out of the question. This could be something bad.

And yet, as the statue spoke again, with a familiar, oddly comforting voice, he began to doubt that to be the case.

“S-Speedwagon?” came the voice, as tender and soothing as he’d always remembered it. “Is that…you?” it, or rather, he, asked with hesitant confusion. “Why are you…so small? And…old?”

The statue gazed at his own hands in bewilderment. “What…am I?” he cried out with a note of concern.

Speedwagon glanced up at the towering stony giant, tears welling up in his eyes. “J-Jonathan? Is that you? Is that really you? Please, tell me! Say something only Jonathan would say. Only something he would know! Prove it!” Speedwagon yelled with imcreasing desperation choking up his voice.

“Ogre Street…the mansion…the ship…” mumbled the statue incoherently. “Erina…Dio…the fire…”

Speedwagon began to heave heavy sobs of grief and joy as he listened to the statue listing in confusion, who had sat down onto the pedestal in a state of shock.

“Jonathan…” he wept. “It…it is you…”

He rushed to the statue at once without hesitation and embraced him tightly. His body was hard, and cold, unlike the soft, warm flesh that he knew from Jonathan’s loving embrace, and yet, deep within his heart, in his soul, in the reassuring warmth that rushed through his body upon feeling its touch, that this ponderous being that was before him truly was Jonathan all the same.

“Jojo…Jojo…”, Speedwagon gasped between uncontrollable sobs. “It’s you. You’re back. I don’t know why, or how this is even happening…but you’re back, Jonathan. You’re here.”

Jonathan, still seated on his marble pedestal, shifted one massive marble arm and held Speedwagon close by. His stone grip was hard and strong, and yet Speedwagon felt the same gentle tenderness that he had yearned for for many long decades.

“Where am I?” Jonathan asked again. “My body…it feels like stone. And I am…alive? But…but I died…”

Speedwagon looked up at the living stone figure and met his gaze. His eyes burned bright like a dull azure flame, but even in their ethereal otherworldiness, there was no mistaking the same noble spirit behind the flickering glow.

“I don’t know how to explain this to you, Jonathan, but you indeed are…dead. And it has been fifty years hence since that day. Things have changed, times have passed. I know it’s a lot to take in, Jojo. It surely is for me. Perhaps I can explain later.”

“I…I remember nothing after the fire,” Jonathan replied. “But Erina is safe? And Dio…gone?”

“Yes, Jonathan. Everything is well and good. And we have you to thank.”

As Jonathan sat in silence in the middle of the nighttime park, trying to process his sudden, unusual newfound existence, Speedwagon tightly gripped his hard marble hand and rested his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes in a strange relief.

“Welcome back to this world, Jonathan,” he sighed with a dreamy smile.

“Welcome home.”

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#OH MY GOD OH MY GOD #THIS IS AMAZING #I LOVE THIS #MY HEART #THANK YOU #BIG MARBLE BOI JONATHAN #I love your writing big insp #jjba #submission

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Highland Destiny Chapter 10 ~Spring Has Sprung~

"Ah, Jamie come in, come in...take a seat." Ned Gowan motioned with a wave of his hands as Jamie was ushered into his office by his secretary. "I'm so glad ye can come. I will try and make this as quick as possible."

Ned Gowan, Fraser's family lawyer, had called early Monday morning after the weekend of the ball, urging James Fraser to see him as soon as possible.

"Ned, ye said it's an emergency?" Jamie shook the elderly man's hand before sitting down.

Ned Gowan took some papers from his desk drawer and stacked them neatly in a row in front of him. "Aye, it concerns Château Cheval Blanc. I personally think ye should put off the sales of yer shares...weel at least for now until I can establish the validity of my theory. I have reason to believe that our mystery shareholder may soon surface. But before I proceed, I do have a question...do ye know or have ye heard of the name Jonathan Edward Randall? Or if by any chance your uncle mentioned the name in the past."

"Jonathan...Jonathan," Jamie's brow furrowed in concentration as he uttered the name. "Aye, uncle mentioned that name a few times when I worked in his winery as a young lad. An old foe he once said...set on destroying him...I believe that's what uncle said. I understand that this person has been deceased for some time."

Ned's eyes lit up and quickly leafed through one of the stacks of papers. "Hmmm, interesting ye should say that. Firstly, we have a couple of the late Jonathan Edward Randall's lawyers enquiring about yer shares, and I find that quite suspicious considering Randall is long dead. Secondly, not too long ago, we dug up some old business records from Frédéric de Marillac. And as it turned out, Jonathan Edward Randall was once his business associate and long-standing friend. They go a long way back when they were students in Oxford. From your statement, there is a high probability that Frédéric de Marillac had been buying the shares for Jonathan Edward Randall. We have found a copy of one particular shareholder agreement. This contract was especially drawn-up for de Marillac, meaning this did not apply to all shareholders. There are two paragraphs I find highly interesting in de Marillac's contract. First one is, it states here, he may assign a successor to his shares without the approval of the other shareholders and the second one states here that upon the death of the shareholder, the deceased shareholder stocks are to be bequeathed to the next of kin. Yer uncle must have been quite desperate to sign such a contract. Now, Jonathan Edward Randall's next of kin was Franklin Wolverton Randall or also known as Frank Randall."

His thoughts were on Claire and were only half-listening to Ned Gowan when Jamie suddenly sat straight up. "Frank Randall?"

Ned ignored the interruption and carried on. "Now Frank Randall died five years ago and left behind a widow. At the moment we cannot find any documents of the widow's name. It's as if her identity has been erased overnight. This should have been a public record, but we cannot find Frank Randall's marriage certificate. But we did find phone records of de Marillac contacting Frank Randall's former residence. But there are no records of that contact reciprocated. And last but not least, we were able to acquire a bank transfer statement with a substantial amount of money sent to de Marillac. And this money came from Jonathan Edward Randall. To summarise the hypothesis, the money transferred, we believe was used to buy the shares. And because of the agreement signed between your uncle and de Marillac, we have reason to believe that Frank Randall's widow is our elusive shareholder by default. She is Frank Randall's next of kin."

Dhia Claire! Jamie was dumbfounded. "What is the probability that yer theory is correct? I thought the secret shareholder hold only 15% of the share."

Ned Gowan leaned back on his chair and smiled, looking satisfied with himself. "We found in some old records that the 15% share was under Frank Randall's name, making the probability of my theory very high, but I have a few people investigating and will confirm in the next few days. The good news is if the widow does surface, and we can prove that de Marillac's shares are legally hers, ye can make an attempt to buy it from her. With yer charm and popularity with the ladies, I don't think that should be too difficult for ye. So Jamie lad, what do you propose we do next once we have established the name of our secret shareholder?"

"Sell my shares to the secret shareholder at a fraction of the price, " Jamie answered, his face expressionless.

"What!?!"

..........

Claire got out of her car. She had been expecting the garden to be unkempt and over-grown, but instead, found a well-kept yard with arrays of wildflowers, herbs and spring flowers in full bloom. It had been three weeks since she was last at the cottage and it was on the night before she left for the St. Agnes Charity Ball. Claire had been staying at Joe's, and he was kind enough to let her stay in his apartment, considering he lived half the time at Gail's townhouse. He had insisted Claire stayed for as long as she needed knowing she wasn't in the right place to be alone in the cottage.

Ever since the night she walked away from Jamie, he had been continually trying to reach her via phone, messages, emails and sometimes through her friends. It took a lot of willpower not to succumb to his pleas, but Claire knew she needed the time and space for herself to heal and to sort out her feelings. She had been astounded at the force of her anger and intensity of her pain during that disastrous night. She knew she never wanted to feel that way again.

Geillis had been a blessing throughout the past few weeks. She had taken upon herself to take care of Claire's needs: retrieving a few of her clothes from the cottage and her car, admonishing Jamie for his stupidity and acting as their mediator. Geillis had found out the whole truth after hollering and shouting all sorts of abuse at Jamie when she came to the cottage. He had been silent, contrite and close to tears which was very much a far cry from the self-assured and cocky Jamie she knew from all the years she had known him. And of course, there was that headline news from the Daily Mail, much to the horror of Claire, plastered on the front page, DISTILLERY KING DITCHES FIANCEE FOR LADY IN RED. There were two photos under the headline. One was of a scowling Jamie dragging Annalise and another of Claire and Jamie kissing. Bloody tacky journalistic piece of shit! She had thought then.

"Claire, what do ye want to do? Ye cannae hide here forever. Do ye love him?" Geillis had asked one evening over takeaway dinner.

"Oh, I do Geillis. I wouldn't be in this mess if I didn't. But I'm scared... too scared..."

"Och come here." Geillis had gathered Claire to her arms. "Listen, hen, it's reasonable to be scared, but runnin' away wilnae help. I've known Jamie since he was a wee laddie. Ah ken he'd done a lot of stupid things in th' past, but he'd done a lot of good too, like puttin' a lot of money in St. Agnes' restoration an' other stuff like that. He's got a big heart, an' th' media hae portrayed him a playboy. Sure he had other women in th' past, but ah have ne'er seen him in such a state before. He's in love wi' ye, Claire, an' it breaks mah heart that both of ye are sufferin' like this."

Claire had given Geillis' words a lot of thought, and she knew she had to confront Jamie sooner or later. So it was on one untypical warm spring day, on the way to the garden centre when she decided to stop by the cottage. It was on the spur of the moment decision as if some force of nature was guiding her. She was dressed in jean shorts, a white sweatshirt with a Union Jack print and white sneakers. She had been planning on taking a walk in the open fields after plant shopping.

The cottage was tranquil when she arrived, and she didn't see Jamie's vehicle or noticed any presence. She had quickly gotten out of the car before she could change her mind but not before taking an A4 size envelope she meant to give to Jamie from the compartment. She knew Jamie had stayed in the cottage all that while and he had told Geillis he will only leave if Claire wished it. Secretly, Claire was glad he stayed.

Walking through the front garden, she was amazed at how beautiful it had turned out to be. It had been her plan ever since she arrived to plant some medicinal herbs and wildflowers and put a trellis on the cottage exterior wall for some climbing plants. It seemed someone had already done the job for her.

Inside the cottage, everything was spic and span, and in every room, there was a vase with a bouquet of wildflowers in assorted colours. She was just placing the envelope on the coffee table in the living room when she felt a presence from the doorway. She turned around and saw a very stunned Jamie standing there. Claire didn't even hear him come in.

"Sassenach..." His voice was almost a whisper. Jamie's hair was a tad bit longer and curlier from his usual wavy locks, and he had several days old beard, making him look like some medieval Norse warrior. He was wearing a black shirt, and grey sweat pants and his skin was very bronzed, probably from working in the garden or running.

"Hi, Jamie," Claire stammered, "I'm sorry for coming unannounced...I was just driving by..., and I thought I'd stop and...I didn't see your car, and I thought ..."

Jamie took a few steps forward as if to reach out but stopped himself midway. "Claire, what are ye talking about? This is yer home," he said softly. He then ran his hand through his hair, quite unsure what to do next, he took a deep breath and muttered, "Christ Sassenach I've missed ye so much. Would ye mind verra much if I kiss and hug ye?" His eyes were full of yearning, but he was very cautious.

Looking at his beautiful deep blue eyes, all doubts seemed to dissipate. "No, I don't mind Jamie but..." Before she could finish her sentence, Jamie had Claire in his arms, kissing her with so much tenderness. The kiss was not one of seduction, nor of demand. It was a kiss full of longing and outpouring of love. Claire gave in and put her arms around his neck as a single tear ran down her cheek. He smelled of sweat, fresh air and tasted of mint, and she loved the feel of his stubble against her skin.

"Oh Christ Claire, I'm so verra sorry for everything," Jamie murmured in between air. "I don't ever want to lose ye again. So so sorry..." He rained kisses all around her face before kissing her deeply once again.

As his hands wandered up from under her sweatshirt, Claire stopped him. "Jamie, please..." She gently placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him. Like his, her breathing had become shallow. Although she didn't want the kiss to end, there were still a lot of unanswered questions.

Confused, Jamie searched her face. "Don't ye want me anymore, Sassenach?"

"Jamie, that's not it. We need to talk. We can't just start from where we left off as if nothing happened..."

Still dazed from the kiss, Jamie managed to regain control, "Aye, that's true...come we'll take a seat." Without letting go of her hands, he led her to the sofa. He turned to face her and sighed. "Look Sassenach, everything I've ever told ye was true, but I admit I omitted some parts of the whole story...and as for Annalise, I never told ye about her because the last time I was with her, it was almost 9 months ago. I'm not proud tellin ye this, but our relationship was never one ye can really call a relationship. Geillis must have told ye the whole story surely. And also, I was going to tell ye on the night of the ball about Frisealach, but Annalise happened. I suppose ye know already I own the distillery."

"But why didn't you tell me you owned the distillery? I asked a few times about your job, and you always came up with some feeble answer, such as working in the administration. I suppose that's part of your work, so I guess there's some truth to it. And I don't even know where you live...you only spoke of your family home, but that's a couple hours away from here. I don't suppose you travelled every day from Lallybroch to Inverness."

"I don't know Sassenach why I never told ye the things I should have. There are a lot of things I should have done and not done, but ever since I laid eyes on ye, I haven't been thinking clearly. I haven't been myself. After we made love for the first time, I couldna bear to leave yer side, and before I knew what was happening, I just slotted into yer life. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to be with ye. Before meeting ye, I lived in a luxury apartment in the town centre. Aye it's posh, and it has everything, but it has no soul. I never felt at home in it. With ye here, it's the first time I've ever felt at home outside Lallybroch."

Claire gave him a mock warning look. "Jamie, are you trying to charm your way out of this?"

Jamie smiled and took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. In a serious tone, he answered, "No. I promise you it's the truth. It's like I'm under yer spell and, to be honest, I'm only too happy to remain there."

"How about those string of women in the papers, internet and magazine? I saw photos of you with different women each time..."

"Christ Sassenach, do ye really think I slept with all of them? If I did, I wouldna had time to run my companies. It's a marketing ploy to be seen with the right people and to introduce my whisky in Europe and truth be told, I hated every moment of it. I dinna care for a celebrated lifestyle. Everything about it was very superficial, and ye have to be mindful all the time of what ye say in public. That's no easy thing for me - I grew up in a family that says their mind a lot. No Sassenach, it wasn't for me."

"So, what do you want of me? From us?"

Jamie got off the sofa to kneel in front of Claire. Then taking her hands in both of his, he looked into her eyes. "Claire, I want to be with ye. I have never wanted anyone as much as I wanted ye and I promise there'll only be truth between us." His voice cracked, and his eyes turned to a darker hue. "Ye see Sassenach, whenever I look at ye, my heart starts to pound, when for years, I dinna think it beat at all. I dinna ken what was missing in my life until ye came and filled in the holes and took away the emptiness. And when you're not by my side, the loss is unimaginable. The night I carried ye out from St. Agnes and looked down upon yer face, I knew I was ruined for life. Totally, utterly ruined. I can't be good for anybody now, except for ye. What I'm trying my hardest to say is, I love ye, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. And I am scairt because ye have my heart now in yer hands."

"Jamie.."

"Sssh." He placed a finger on her lips. "Sassenach, may I kiss ye?" Jamie didn't want to hear what Claire had to say in fear she may not feel the same way. Without waiting for her to reply, he pulled her tight against him and kissed her softly, one hand behind her neck as his thumb caressed a sensitive part just under her earlobe. She tasted of warm honey, and her skin as soft as the petals from the flowers. "Claire, will ye stay with me tonight?" he asked hoarsely.

The spell broke when Claire was reminded of her plans for that night. "Oh Jamie, I can't tonight...I've already made arrangements..." Although rattled by his confession, she wanted to stay, but this time she didn't want to rush things between them. One baby step at a time!

Jamie tried to hide his disappointment, and gave her a smile instead, not wanting to rock the boat. "Are ye going out with Geillis?" he asked.

"No, I'm meeting up with Tom tonight." Claire felt him stiffen and gave him an apologetic look, knowing that both men had some sort of disagreement.

"Oh! Are ye seeing him...I mean is it a date?" Jaime was no longer smiling, but he kept his hold on her.

Claire reached out to touch his face and sighed. "No Jaime, it's not like that. It's just for a couple of drinks. I promised him a few days ago that I will see him. And then I have some things I need to do for Joe...medical kinds of stuff."

Feeling slightly heartened, Jamie asked in a hopeful voice, "Errm, Sassenach, can I see ye tomorrow?" His finger was tucking a lock behind her ear.

"How about lunch before I go to work tomorrow...that's if you're not too busy being a boss?" Claire asked, good-humouredly. "I start work late...we have a few shift changes this week."

Thinking that lunch would be a longer wait, he suggested an alternative. "How about breakfast? I will bring it up to ye, so ye didna need to dress." Jamie attempted a wink before giving her a suggestive smile.

Claire laughed. "Alright breakfast then but not too early...I was planning on sleeping in. I'm staying at Joe's apartment. You remember where he lives?"

"Aye." He nodded.

"Oh by the way, before I leave, this is for you." Claire took the brown envelope from the coffee table she had earlier and placed it in Jamie's hand.

"Sassenach," he said, giving her a suspicious look. "This is not a goodbye letter, is it?" He frowned as he weighed it in his hands.

"No Jaime." She gave him a lingering kiss, telling Jamie with her own lips how much she loved him too.

.........

It was probably not a great idea to meet Tom at the Scotch & Rye Pub. It was Saturday, it was loud, it was teeming with employees from Frisealach and Laoghaire MacKenzie was there. Most likely, Jamie could walk in any minute soon. They found an empty high table near the entrance and quickly took it.

"Claire, what would you like to drink?" Tom's soft voice broke into her contemplation.

Distracted, she replied, "Oh, a glass of dry white, please." She had been thinking of what Jamie said earlier in the afternoon.

Claire watched as Tom made his way to the bar. She saw Laoghaire approached him at the counter, smiling sweetly at him as she placed well-manicured painted fingers on his arm. She saw her opened her bag as she continued to chat with him and took a few pound notes from her purse to give to the bartender.

Claire smiled as Tom came back with their drinks, but her smile quickly faded away as she saw Laoghaire was right behind Tom. "Claire, the drinks are from Laoghaire, she says it's a truce and apologies offering."

"Oh! Well then, thank you, Laoghaire, that's very kind of you!" She raised her glass to her. "To truce and forgiveness." Her heart warmed a bit for the girl, but she still felt slightly uneasy about her mannerism.

"Och think nothin' of it. Anyway, I hope ye both enjoy yer date!" Before Claire could protest its not a date, she had turned around sauntering towards the Frisealach employees' table.

Once alone, Tom revealed, "She's a funny girl her. She asked me a week ago, here in the pub, if I fancied ye. I told her it was none of her business." He leaned forward and in a lower voice, he continued, "Stay clear away from her, Claire. She might not seem to be the brightest, but I can't help but feel apprehensive whenever she's around. I think she's a bit of a gossip."

Claire laughed nervously, taking a big gulp of her wine, trying to dismiss the warning. "Don't worry. I think she's just young and full of mischief."

"Don't ye want to find out Claire?"

"Find out wot?" She took another sip of the wine and grimaced at the taste.

Tom leaned forward and smiled at her. "Whether or not I fancy ye?"

Claire thought he had a beautiful smile. "Well, do you?" she asked boldly. Suddenly Claire felt relax and loose-tongued. She stood up from her high chair to lean forward to remove a fluff off Tom's hair when suddenly she felt wobbly.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Feeling the room was spinning out of control, she attempted to sit back but instead ended up slipping into the darkness.

..........

Jamie was just walking into the pub when he saw Claire swayed precariously as she held onto the high table. Before she could fall and Tom could react, he caught her in time before she hit the floor.

He shot Tom an angry look as he propped Claire's head with his hands. "How much has she had to drink? Didn't ye think she might have had enough?"

"She's only had one glass, and she drank it too fast," Tom snapped, as he kneeled down to check Claire's pulse. People were gathering already, and he knew Claire needed air. "Listen, Fraser, I'll deal with this. I'm a doctor, and I'll make sure she gets to the hospital. Go and join yer friends."

Jamie was lifting Claire up already. "She lives with me, so she's practically like my wife, so back off Tommy," he growled, determined not to relinquish his hold. "I'm taking her, my car is just outside."

Unperturbed, Tom let Jamie carry Claire as he held the door open. "I'm coming with ye."

"Suit yersel'"

..........

Both men drove in silence as they headed to the Northern Royal Infirmary. Tom had called Joe and the hospital in advance as Jamie laid Claire in the passenger seat. When they finally got there, they were greeted by Gail, Joe Abernathy's girlfriend, who was the doctor on duty, and Claire was immediately put onto a wheeled stretcher and taken away.

Seeing the concern on both the men's faces, Gail guided them to the waiting area. "Listen, boys, it's probably not serious. Claire has been under a lot of stress, so it's probably just the repercussion rearing its ugly head. Wait here, please. We'll do some test, and I'm quite sure the results shouldn't take very long," she said, smiling warmly.

Quite contrary to what Gail said, both men waited two hours.

When Joe finally arrived in civilian clothes, Jamie and Tom were sat at opposite ends of the waiting area. He had just come out of the operating room when he heard the news about Claire and immediately went to see the doctor attending her. After reading the initial results, Joe volunteered to relay the report to Tom and Jamie. As soon as he appeared in the waiting area, both men stood up and were surprised when they saw he was accompanied by two security guards and two policemen. Joe liked both men, but his main concern was Claire at this very moment.

"Tom, Jamie, we have the result from the initial tests." His voice sounded stern and very professional. "But before I can reveal anything, I want to ask... who was with Claire when she blacked out?"

Tom raised a hand. "I was with her, and we were both on our first drink. She drank the wine rather quickly, and I was surprised that she seemed tipsy all of a sudden," he explained.

Joe closed his eyes before making a formal statement. "We have found traces of Ketamine in Claire's saliva and urine test. Ketamine is also known as Date Rape Drug, and we have a very strong suspicion of an attempted sexual assault." Turning to Tom, he proceeded, "I'm so sorry, Tom, I need to have you detained until further results come in..."

Before Joe could finish his sentence and the police could react, Jamie, with his hands clenched and his face dark red with fury, threw a punch at Tom Christie's face sending him sliding across the hospital floor and knocking him out cold.

Joe had also wanted to tell Jamie that Claire was pregnant, but he guessed it could wait later.

#melodyheart #highlanddestiny #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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thecleverdame · 5 years

Text

Sleepy Hollow - Eleven

Series Master List

Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo

Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.

Words: 40k

Beta: ilikaicalie

This series is completed. You can read it on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

Van Tassel House - Sam’s Room Sam awakes, rolling over to find Lady Van Tassel at his bedside with food and drink. He shifts, pulling the covers up over his waist, still naked from the night before.

“You slept like the dead,” she affirms mouth pinched in a tight expression. “You are too kind to me.” Sam clears his throat, sitting up. “I do not look to be served by the lady of the house.” She smiles and shrugs. “Nor would you be but that the servant girl has vanished.” “Sarah?” Sam confirms, thinking about how pleased she was to have him here, to solve this dark mystery. “Run away, like many more people are leaving, in fear, without ceremony.” Lady Van Tassel waves her hand as if swatting at wafting annoyance. “Where is Y/N?” Sam asks, immediately regretting the question. He can still smell you on the bedclothes. “She watched over you till dawn, I dare say.” Her eyes narrow, something playful sparkling. “Now it is her turn to sleep and I am here. I doubt, however, that I will provide the same level of care my stepdaughter has.”

“I am grateful.” Sam ignores her implication.

“I’ll leave you to dress, constable.” She leaves the room as Young Masbath enters. “I am fit for another day.” Sam’s careful to keep the sheets around his waist as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Get my brother.” “I’m already here.” Dean saunters through the door, tugging his sleeves into place.

“You’re awake early,” Sam comments, pulling on his trousers.

“There wasn’t much sleep to be had while Y/N was providing you such vigorous care.” Dean grimaces and Sam nearly chokes on his own spit.

“The walls are thin?” Sam grins despite the blush rising in his cheeks.

“Thin enough to know she took great care of you...twice.” Dean remains unamused.

“Miss Van Tassell tended to me when I had the flu.” Young Masbath adds, looking from Sam to Dean. “She is a gifted caregiver.”

Dean chuckles, placing a hand on Young Masbath’s shoulder. “I have no doubt she is.”

“Where are we going?” “To the Notary's office,” Sam offers and Dean nods in agreement. “Why?” Young Masbath asks. “Because that is where I expect to find deposited...the last will and testament of the elder Van Garrett,” Sam explains, looking at his brother. Dean nods at him. “You’ve thought of something.”

“Of something Young Masbath said.” Sam gestures to the boy. “The Widow Winship came many a day with a basket of eggs to Van Garrett, who I understand had hens to spare. I begin to see. It was Van Garrett's child that the widow was carrying.” “I heard someone leaving last night,” Young Masbath interjects. “Looked like they were headed into town, but I lost them in the woods.” “You didn't see who?” Dean cocked an eyebrow. “All I saw was their lantern.” The brothers ponder this new information, troubled, as Young Masbath brings Sam a shirt. “The Horseman does the killing but, I believe, at the bidding of a mortal, someone of flesh and blood.” Sam pulls the shirt over his head. “What makes you say that?” Masbath looks at Sam like he’s insane. “The witch,” Dean confirms.

“Indeed, the crone, when I happened upon her corpse, she lay in a pool of blood. Blood poured hard from her neck. The wound was not cauterized.” “Then, she was not killed by the Hessian. Someone tried to make it seem so.” The boy is getting it now. “Perhaps it was the settling of a private score,” Dean offers.

“That would make more sense,” Sam agrees, gathering his things. “The Horseman cuts heads to a different drum. The crone pointed us to what drives the Hessian - his skull has been stolen from his grave. The person who stole it has power over the Hessian. Here is why the Headless One has returned through the gate of the Tree of the Dead. He chops heads until his own is restored to him.”

“But what person?” Young Masbath looks from Sam to Dean. Dean is silent for a moment then chuckles, watching the knowing grin on his brother's face. “What person has something to gain from all three murders?”

Town Square - Church

Wagons, horses and townspeople swarm. A crowd empties the town's general store. Provisions are passed along, man to man, and loaded onto wheelbarrows. Sam, Dean and Young Masbath ride, passing by many angry faces who leer up at them. All up and down the long straight road, homeowners board up windows with lumber. The three stop, tying their horses in front of the "NOTARY." Sam looks down the road, people are headed to the church.

“Sanctuary.” Sam looks to Dean. “Or, so they hope.”

“The hysteria will only build from here.” Dean claps a hand on Young Masbath’s shoulder. People carry supplies into the church, within the bordering wrought iron fence. Others work to build and erect massive wooden crosses. In the crowd here, Reverend Steenwyck spots the constables and Young Masbath, pushes past people, shouting... “There they are! There!” The reverend hollers. People begin to pay attention to Steenwyck as he climbs atop a crate, pointing toward the Winchesters. “The desecrators of Christian burial! Twice they met the Horseman, and kept their heads! How is it so?” Turning toward the notary Sam tries to ignore the scene before him and heads inside, as a clod of earth hits him on the shoulder. In the churchyard, Steenwyck continues his rant. “The Devil protects his own!” Inside they find themselves in a small, untidy room with piles of dusty documents in great disorder. The Notary Hardenbrook looks at Sam with his one good eye. Young Masbath stands nearer to Dean. “I take it, Mr. Hardenbrook, that wills and testaments are held here on public record?” Sam inquires, pulling off his riding gloves one at a time. Hardenbrook is in a funk, trying to act calm. He knows what they’ve come for and passes a document across the desk. “I believe this is what you wish to see. Take it and go!” Sam and Dean lean in, scanning the will of Peter Van Garrett. “Van Garrett Senior left his estate to his next of kin, that is to say, to his only son. However, the son was also murdered.” Hardenbrook explains. “The next of kin after the son would be the eldest of the line from Van Garrett's father's sister...none other than the Baltus Van Tassel: something else no one thought to mention?” Sam’s eyes flick up to the man, ignoring Dean shifting beside him. “Well, you have found your way to it, and I hope you will leave now before my windows are broken.”

The crowd murmurs outside like angry bees. Sam flourishes the will in his hand. “My brother is not ready to leave,” Dean smirks widening his stance. Hardenbrook starts moaning and wringing his hands. “A brick through your window is not what puts you in terror, Hardenbrook - there is something else. I saw your fear, and Steenwyck's, and the doctor's when you met at Philipse's house... Philipse paid with his head, and you fear for your own,” Sam surmises much to the notary’s horror. “Yes, it's true!” Hardenbrook shouts. “But we did not know it was a murdering plot when we were drawn in!” Dean steps forward. “Drawn in by whom?!” “Mercy upon me!” Hardenbrook exclaims, clasping his hands. “We meant no harm to come to her!” “No harm to come to whom?” Sam leans in.

“But the marriage made her next of kin…” Hardenbrook babbles on as Sam is losing his patience. “Made who next of kin to whom?!” Sam shouts. “You’ve yet to offer any real answer.” “He means old Van Garrett secretly married the Widow Winship.” Young Masbath is the one to clarify. “Of course!” Sam is starting to catch on. “And Van Garrett made a new will, leaving everything to her and his unborn child... So she stood between Baltus and the legacy! Where is the will?” Hardenbrook is beginning to panic, looking around the room, eyes wild. “I cannot be seen to help you! The Horseman will come for me!” “We will not leave without the very last will and testament in question.” The younger Winchester stands his ground as Dean crosses his arms over his chest. Hardenbrook digs into a mountain of documents, hurling handfuls into the air and flings the second will at Sam. Young Masbath nervously checks the door. “Go, then! I am a dead man!” The old man cries, he starts to sob. “Sir-” Young Masbath starts. “Young Masbath...I know why your father died. That night when Van Garrett quarreled with his son, Jonathan Masbath was summoned upstairs to witness the new Will. Here is your father's signature. It was his death warrant.” Young Masbath takes the document and looks at it tearfully. “But the secret was not safe. Mrs. Killian the midwife was forewarned the baby was coming -- and so she, too, had to die.” One of the other hurled documents fluttered down fortuitously in front of Sam. Dean picks it up. “The marriage certificate,” Dean confirms. “Parson Steenwyck married them. Doctor Lancaster confirmed the widow was pregnant. She told the secret to Magistrate Philipse. Notary Hardenbrook concealed the documents.” Hardenbrook snivels and moans and wrings his hands. “And you all kept silence!” Sam turns to the notary. “Why? For some nameless dread of the man who stood to gain by it - Baltus Van Tassel!”

VAN TASSEL HOUSE

Sam, Dean and Young Masbath start up the stairs, noticing Baltus, alone, with a glass of liquor, is brooding over an oak coffer of silver, running coins through his fingers. The constables continue with Young Masbath, speaking quietly. “I think there is some error in your reasoning,” Young Masbath interjects.

“Really?” Sam looks to his brother. “Do give us the benefit of your insight.” “All these murders, just so that Baltus Van Tassel should inherit yet more land and property?” Masbath shakes his head. “Precisely,” Dean confirms. “Men murder for profit. Possibly you don't know New York?”

“If you had seen the things we have young man you would not hesitate to believe-” Sam stops short seeing his bedroom door ajar. He carefully pushes the door open, surprised to find you at his desk, reading his ledger.

“Y/N, why are you in my room?” “Because it is yours.” You smile softly, eyes darting to your handsome constable. “Is it wicked of me?” “No,” Sam can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth at the sight of you. “Of course not.” “I missed you. Where did you go?” “To the Notary.” Sam forces an even expression, dreading the idea of telling you that he suspects your father. “I had questions to ask Hardenbrook.” “And did you learn anything of interest?” You crane your neck to look at him like the prettiest flower trying to arch closer to the warm sun and Sam feels ill. Sam and Dean exchange a glance. “Well...perhaps.” Sam falters, heat rising in his cheeks. “My father-” you start and Sam nearly jumps out of his boots. “Your father...?”

“Yes,” you nod, eyes narrowing at his strange disposition. Perhaps a night with you has set him on edge. “My father thinks you should return to New York.” “Really?” Sam balks, as Dean sucks in a breath. “Why is that?” “I don't know,” you smirk, looking at Sam’s handsome face. “Perhaps he looked in your ledger and did not like what he saw.” You leave the ledger open on the desk. Sam steps over to look. Dean follows in tandem. It is a page of doodles with the name "Y/N" written several times, and a sketch of you, beautifully intricate.

Embarrassed, Sam slams the ledger closed. “He believes townsfolk and country do not mix,” you offer. Sam opens the drawer in the desk and puts away the document he took from the Notary. He is nervous because he knows they point to complicity by Y/N's father. Young Masbath, watching, understands this, Sam locks the drawer and pockets the key. “What have you there?” you inquire. “Evidence,” Sam explains. “I'm sorry, I must ask for a few moments of privacy.” “Then I will leave you to your thoughts. Sleep well, Constable.” You brush past him, letting your hand brush over his, a subtle invitation. You leave and Sam looks to Dean, saving his commentary for when they’re truly alone.

“Look at that.” Sam points to a huge spider scuttling under his bed. Dean takes a step back, wincing at the sight of it. He’s never liked them. “It's only a spider.” Young Masbath smiles at the older constable. “Why don’t you keep an eye on it. Make sure it doesn’t crawl its way into my room.”

“I saw where it went.” Young Masbath kneels down, looking under Sam’s bed. He turns back to the constables. “There’s something under here.” “Kill it!” Dean offers.

“Why don’t we simply put it outside.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Let me help you move the bed.” Young Masbath and Sam move the bed only to reveal a strange pentagram drawn in chalk on the floorboards. “The Evil Eye!” The boy backs away. “What is it?” Dean inquires, leaning down to inspect the sigil.

“It is someone casting spells against you.” The boy confirms, looking away as if the mark might take hold of him if he inspects it too closely. “An evil eye,” Sam repeats, staring at the spider sitting in the middle of the Pentagram.

Van Tassel House - Y/N’s Room

“Shhh,” Sam hisses, his nose pressed into your cheek. “Someone will hear us if you keep on like this.”

While he’s right, there’s also a hint of pride in his voice as he takes you from behind, half bent over the heavy wooden vanity. You’re standing on shaky legs with your nightgown around your waist, unable to stifle the desperate pants flowing from between your lips.

“I’ll try to control myself,” you gasp, reaching up and behind to fist a hand in his hair. Twisting to the side you catch his mouth is a sweet, lingering kiss. He’s feeling better, he must be, because he’s fucking you so hard it’s taking the breath right out of your lungs. There’s nothing but lust and unbridled pleasure as his cock moves inside you, again and again, slick running down your thighs. Curling forward he deepens a second kiss as a hand snakes between your legs, finding your bud with sinful precision. He swallows your gasp, nearly growling in response.

Your breath hastens as he strums your body like a well-trained musician. It’s his expert touch combined with the deep stretch of his hard prick that sends you over the edge into ecstasy. You cum with a muffled shout, his hand clapping over your mouth as you arch backward, cunt clutching and squeezing him inside you.

“Perfect,” he mutters, jaw tightening. Grabbing your hips he moves faster and faster, his strokes unrelenting as you shake and shutter. He chases his own release, hips smacking into your backside until he lets out a long, low moan and pulls out. He cums over your buttocks, shooting warm and thick, stroking himself until he’s fully satisfied.

“I’ve made a mess of you,” he chuckles breathlessly, placing a kiss just behind your ear.

“I don’t mind one bit,” you laugh, blissfully exhausted. Using a handkerchief he wipes you clean, before tucking himself back into his pants. The moment you turn around his arms engulf your waist, twisting together at the small of your back. There’s such a familiar feeling when he holds you close. Being with Sam feels like a safe, happy place that you find yourself longing for when he’s not near.

“I can’t stay,” he explains softly. He’s beautiful in the candlelight, the small lines around his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.

“But you must!” you whine, sliding both hands over his chest.

“I wish I could.” One hand abandons your hips in favor of your cheek, thumb stroking back and forth. “But while the Horseman is at large I don’t have the luxury of spending my nights in your bed.”

“Please be careful,” you insist, searching his eyes. “I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. I know you’re healing but-”

“I’ll be fine,” he counters, dipping down for a soft kiss. He presses his nose into your cheek, squeezes you as close as he can, nearly taking your feet off the floor. “I have Dean to look after me. There’s no one better suited for the job.”

“I have to admit I’m interested to know what you find out.” You grin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitch. You’re curious by nature and truly eager to find out more about this mystery that’s consumed your life.

“All will be revealed.”

Sam leaves you with one last kiss. And then another. By the time he finally leaves, your lips are swollen and heart bursting with the promise of what’s to come.

Later That Night... Sam and Dean are sitting awake in Dean’s room, silently waiting as the hands of the clock tick past midnight.

“Are you sure you want the answer you may find, brother?” Dean asks, rubbing his finger over the amulet in his hand, a token from their uncle.

“What does that mean?” Sam’s eyes shoot up, back straightening.

“You know full well what I mean. There are layers of secrets here, secrets that may put a stop to your romance.” Dean grins slyly at his brother. “We could leave, go back to New York. You could take the girl with you.”

“If she and I are meant to be she will come with us when the time comes regardless of what puzzles we may solve.” Sam nods firmly, trying to convince himself as much as Dean.

The truth is you are all he thinks about. And he is afraid that their investigation may drive a wedge between you but he can’t stop now. His scrupulous morals won’t let him.

They hear a door creak open and then the creak of the stairs. Sam motions to Dean as he lights a candle. They wait for a few moments and then carefully open the door and sneak out of the room.

They remove their shoes when they come to the stairs, wary of alerting anyone to their presence. A floorboard creaks in a room at the end of the hallway and they freeze as Sam blows out the candle in his lantern. There’s a light coming from under the door as they inch closer. Footsteps are heard, then a door opening and closing. “Outside,” Dean whispers as he and Sam creep outside in the pitch black of night in their stocking feet. They follow a faint lantern light moving in the distance. “What do you think we’re about to come upon?” Sam questions, stopping on the hillside as his eyes adjust to the dark. “I have no idea.” Dean shakes his head and they advance, both men peering forward to look through the thicket of trees. There’s a lantern sitting on a rock and on the ground, on a blanket are a man and woman in the midst of rather rough sex.

Sam’s eyes widen and Dean cocks his head as they move closer. The couple continues to fuck, oblivious to their audience. The man is on top of the woman, grunting desperately. He’s giving it to the woman as hard he can. The woman lies back and her face is revealed as Lady Van Tassel. Dean reaches over and slaps Sam who shoos his hand away. Lady Van Tassel pulls down the man's shirt, exposing his flesh. She raises a small, sharp knife behind his back. Sam is about to shout a warning but Dean stops him.

They watch as Lady Van Tassel brings the blade down to her own hand, slicing deep into her palm. Blood flows and she rubs the cut over her partners back, smearing red blood. She then caresses the man’s chest, neck, and face, trailing blood until he’s covered. The man lifts his head, in apparent ecstasy as he sucks on the woman’s fingers revealing he’s none other than the Reverend Steenwyck.

The constables back away, having seen more than enough. When they return to the house Young Masbath is waiting for them. “What was there?” the boy asks Dean.

“Something I wish I had not seen. A beast with two backs.” “A beast with two backs?” Young Masbath mumbles in amazement. “What is next in these bewitched woods?!”

“Dean,” Sam shoots a warning shot. “Don’t tease the boy.” The three of them make their way back to Sam’s room. His desk drawer is visibly open, and he inspects it already knowing the worst. The documents have been taken. Young Masbath suddenly sniffs the air. He signals to Dean. He sniffs again, pointing to the grate in the fireplace as the source of the smell: the documents burned to ashes. “Someone is working against us.” Sam ticks his jaw, anger bubbling to the surface.

#sleepy hollow #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester au #sam winchester smut

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slut4supersoldiers · 6 years

Text

Someday.Maybe. Chapter 6

Summary: Throw together a boy and a girl and another boy and 5 middle-schoolers, two adults, a little girl with telekinetic powers, and a monster from another dimension and you’ll get the perfectly strange story.

(AKA: I suck at writing summaries.)

Pairing: Steve Harrington X OC (fem reader) X Billy Hargrove

Words: 3k+ (this one is long soz!)

Warning: Little bit of angst, Billy’s P.O.V (so some offensive/ nasty thoughts), Strong language

A/n: This chapter is my most favourite so far. Y’all probably know by now that I am a sucker for writing about Billy and this chapter has “Billy’s Point of view” (if that isn’t an incentive then idk what is.) Also: The characters might seem a little confused, i wanted to make them a little nuanced because lets be honest none of us had our shit together as teens.

I do not own Strangers Things nor the GIF.

CATCH UP HERE:

PART I

PART II

PART III

PART IV

PART V

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

After that day during the summer Steve and I avoided each other like the plague. It started with Steve responding to my greetings with a smile, then a nod, then a glance and finally nothing. He was moving away from me like sand slipping through ones fingers. I began blaming myself. Had it not been for me and my smart mouth I would have still been able to be friends with Steve. But hanging out with him and seeing him look at Nancy the way I wanted him to look at me hurt me in a way I couldn’t explain. The only thing that helped me bare Nancy and Steve was the fact that she made Steve happy.

But the Steve I saw right now was anything but happy.

The boy before me was completely broken. His face was turned away from me but I could see his shoulders shake due to the sobs raking through his body. He was constantly running his fingers through his hair, something I noticed he did when he had a lot on his mind. With some courage I reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Steve.” The nervousness was evident in my voice.

On hearing my voice Steve straightened up and rubbed his nose before turning to look at me.

“(Y/n)” he cleared his throat.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Steve startled me when he let out a laugh. However, it was not a hearty laugh but more of a melancholic sound.

“Am I okay? No. Apparently everything in my life is bullshit (y/n) so no I am not really okay.” He looked away as the tears surfaced in his eyes again.

“Steve I don’t know what has happened but it will get better.” I put my hand on his shoulder once again.

“Easy for you to say.” He shrugged off my hand.

“What do you mean Steve?” I should’ve walked away but somehow my masochistic, irrational-self did not allow me to do that.

“I don’t understand, you know, Nancy was great. Is great. Things were perfect but then she goes ahead and tells me she doesn’t love me and whatever we had was all bullshit an-

“Steve I am s-

“No (y/n) let me finish.” He raised his hand shutting up me up instantly.

“Then, that day you had to ruin things. I have never had anyone care for me like you did. I know we hadn’t been talking as much as we did earlier but whenever we hung out you always listened, you always paid attention to me and showed appreciation for everything I did and I loved it. I really like it and liked everything about you. But now I hate you because I can’t hate you and Nancy…goes and…she…

He slid down against the car and sat on the ground. I could feel my resolve crumbling as his words began seeping in. I was just as confused as Steve was but trying to make sense of his words hurt me a lot more.

As if things were not terrible enough a sudden movement startled us. Both of us turned our heads to look at Jonathan holding up a very drunk Nancy and hauling her to his car. That’s when I realised that Steve probably asked Jonathan to drive Nancy back.

Steve got up angrily as the car sped away muttering something under his breath. He pulled open the door of his own car and got in.

“Steve you shouldn’t drive. Let me dri-

“(y/n) don’t you fucking get it. I want to be alone. Leave me alone.” His voice came out louder than I had ever heard. I had never seen him this angry. I backed away as he drove away without even a glance in my direction.

I let out a shaky breath as I realised I would have to walk home alone. I wiped at the tears that involuntarily rolled down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms tightly around my torso I began the long walk home.

However, while I was busy wallowing in my misery I completely overlooked Billy Hargrove standing by the doorway looking at the whole ordeal unravelling before him.

Billy’s P.O.V:

Since the moment I stepped into Hawkins I knew life was going to suck. California was paradise. California was home. But just like every good thing in my life my home was taken away from me and instead I had now landed in a town that constantly smelled like cow shit.

I could not let anyone else walk over me or take things away from me anymore. So the day I stepped into the high school I decided to maintain a place for myself above everyone. And it was a cake walk for me. All I had to do was undo a few buttons of my shirt, flash my pearly smile and make the buffoons around me feel like they were my friends. Slowly everyone started flocking around me. I even managed to dethrone the ‘reigning king of Hawkins’ Steve Harrington.

Still the lack of difficulty was making life boring. I needed a challenge, which seemed difficult considering the fact that every female (both young and old) was throwing herself at me, shamelessly. The only two people who seemed to flock away from the herd were Harrington’s girlfriend and (y/n). Harrington’s girl was never on my radar. As much of an asshole as I was I would never pin for someone who was taken, let alone Nancy Wheeler, the poster girl for preppy.

(Y/n) on the other hand caught my attention immediately. From the Intel I had received from Tommy about the status quo in Hawkins, (y/n) was initially great friends with Steve but her reputation had spiraled down after she started hanging out with the Byers kid, who was far out of the social ladder.

I admit it, I thought she was cute from the first day and as infuriating as her dismissive attitude was, it was also kind of a turn on. The way she squirmed when I’d make a slightly crude comment or how her face heated up when she bit back at me, amused me and made me feel a twitch in my jeans all at the same time. But I wasn’t going to admit that I was infatuated by her, precisely because of her ‘social ranking’. If I had to keep my newly-earned crown I had to follow the status-quo.

But that didn’t keep me from “giving her a hard time” as I made Tommy and Carol believe. In reality I wanted to crack her and see where I could take things with her. Jeez! Get a grip, man!

So unbeknownst to Tommy and Carol I invited her to Tina’s Halloween Party.

Now Halloween parties in California meant hot chicks and binge drinking and sometimes if we’d be lucky one of the rich kids would throw a party and invite the whole school. As much as I hated their snooty, snobbish behavior the rich kids always had good booze. Parties in Cali were totally raging.

The Halloween party in Hawkins however was just as terrible as the people here. The girls dressed like they were competing for the crown of “Prude of the year” and the drinks all tasted like girly, fruity drinks or piss. But I’d rather be at this sorry excuse of a party than home listening to Susan reminiscing about Halloween as a child, all the while resisting the urge to not roll my eyes.

The party was still boring and Duran Duran was still blaring through the record player. But the boring party soon became a lot better as my eyes fell on the Keg stand. Fucking finally, something good was happening in Hawkins.

“Hargrove wanna give it a shot?” Tommy asked noticing my excitement.

“Shot? I am about to make a record. I’ll show y’all Hawkins idiots how to party.” I bellowed.

“Well you’re gonna have to break Steve’s record. He is the Keg King. Just last year he managed to do a st-

I completely blocked him out the moment he said “break Steve’s record”. Steve Harrington was everything I hated. He was rich, and almost too nice. And I knew there was no chance there would be another king in my presence.

I didn’t have to say anything to anyone. The moment I moved towards the stand everybody parted to make way for me. And just like that in no time I had smashed ‘Keg King Steve’s’ record. Another easy task.

With the energy pulsing through me I grabbed the cigarette from Tommy’s fingers and took a long drag. “That’s how you do it in Hawkins.” I screamed. The people in Hawkins would now understand what a real party is.

Everybody huddled around me and began patting my back as Tommy declared I was the new ‘Keg King’. Girls began eyeing me as the remnants of beer began trickled down my shirtless torso. I mean I wouldn’t really blame them.

“We have ourselves a new keg king.” Tommy announced once more as we entered the house. Once we walked in my eyes fell on the one and only Steve Harrington who suddenly stopped dancing as he heard Tommy’s declaration.

“He broke your record. He is the new keg king Harrington.” If Steve was not alert before he was now. He came to a complete halt and took off his glasses eyeing both Tommy and I. His girlfriend, who was annoyingly attached to his hip like always, looked at the both of us and walked away rolling her eyes. Before I could say anything to Harrington he had followed his girlfriend towards the kitchen like a lost boy.

“He is so whipped. What a pussy.” Tommy chuckled.

However, instead of agreeing with Tommy and making things worse of Harrington, I halted as my eyes caught the sight of the one person who I was looking forward to see but didn’t expect would show up. (Y/n)

“Yo check it out, Miss Goody two shoes coming over.” Tommy who seemed to follow my line of vision, hollered. I wanted to talk to her so bad. But the thought sounded ridiculous and if Tommy found out I was thinking in such a way the results would be much worse.

So when Tommy menacingly whispered, “looks like goody two shoes needs to loosen up.” I smirked and agreed.

Following my command Tommy walked in front of her blocking her from entering another room, while I stealthily I walked behind her to block her from turning and leaving. When she saw Tommy she halted, I leaned down and whispered lowly in her ear, “Hey, Doll face.”

The first time I called her that in front of Tommy and Carol they pulled a face and asked me why I called her that, since then I kept telling them and anyone who asked “I love how worked up she gets every time I call her that.” But in reality she kinda looked like one of those dolls that little shitheads play with. What the fuck Hargrove! Focus!

“Billy have you heard of this thing called personal space or did you skip the class where they taught that too?” she turned to look at me. The moment she said my name I could feel all the blood rush down to my crotch. The thought of my name leaving her lips as I bent her over every fucking surface ran through my mind. Hey I am a man after all, cut me some slack!

“Wow doll face, my name sounds sexier when you say it.” I mean it was the truth.

“What do you want Hargrove?” She huffed.

“Why don’t we grab a beer, go upstairs and have a chat about what I want?” I licked my lips gaining hoots from Tommy and his friends. Maybe it was some hormones shit or alcohol or both but all I wanted was to take her upstairs and show her a good time without caring about what anyone else thought.

“Why don’t you go bother someone who actually cares?” the previous hoots by Tommy and and cronies turned into snickers. I clenched my jaw partially out of anger at Tommy and his friends and partially because her dismissive attitude pushed me to try harder. But my reputation was more important to me. I didn’t want to be like Steve Harrington running behind some girl when she didn’t show any interest. I needed a push to get away from this girl in front of me.

So without a thought I grabbed the cup out of Carol’s hand and downed the drink. With the disgusting drink giving me the final push I announced, “Let’s get out of here.” Giving (y/n) one final look I walked towards the backyard.

At around midnight people began trickling out. Tina, had already passed out on the couch and so had half the people. The rest were dancing to some bubble-gum pop bullshit that was being played on loop. I for one lost all the interest after my encounter with (y/n). Did I love a challenge when it came to girls? Of course. But I hated when they got the last word in. And what’s worse was Tommy had actually gotten a hint about how I felt towards (y/n).

Ignoring his inquisitive behaviour I finally decided to drive back home. After years of partying I had learned to handle my alcohol enough to stay in my senses.

I lit up a cigarette and blew out the smoke as I trudged in the direction of my car. As I was descending down the final flight of stairs my eyes fell on two familiar figures. Steve Harrington and (y/n). Before I could go and intervene I saw Harrington furiously get into his car leaving a distraught (y/n) behind. She wiped her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.

Maybe it was the fact that I was finally alone or whatever, I wanted to help her. So I got into my car and slowly started trailing (y/n) in the hopes of not startling her. But I was wrong. The headlights and soft rumble of the car made her stop dead in her tracks.

“What do you want Hargrove?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. She knew it was me without even looking back. Cute.

“A lot of things actually, a new car, some cash, a one way ticket out of this shit hole.” I chuckled as I got out of the car and approached her.

She still refused to look at me. I continued anyway.

“But right now doll face, I’d like for you to get away from this cold and in my car.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“I wouldn’t get in your car even if my life depended on it.” She huffed and turned to face me. Her hair was a little messed due to the wind. Her red rimmed, puffy eyes stared into mine and without even thinking I reached out to cup her tear stained cheeks.

“What happened?” I bent down at eye level with her.

“Huh! As if you care.” She swatted away my hand and began walking in the opposite direction.

Before I could follow her she suddenly turned around and looked at me.

“If I get in your car right now will you stop annoying me henceforth?” She ran her fingers through her hair.

“You got it Doll-face.” I gave her a lopsided grin and opened the door to the passenger seat for her. Pouting a little she complied and got in the car.

Following suite, I got in the car and turned the ignition on and then turned the heat to its fullest. A small sigh of relief left (Y/n)’s lips but she was still shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“There’s…uh…a jacket in the back seat if you can just…

Eyeing me a little she reached out and grabbed my denim jacket that was lying on the back seat.

“Why are you being so nice?” (y/n) cut through the silence.

“I don’t know.” And I honestly didn’t. I was Billy Hargrove resident asshole (I’ve heard worse). This was certainly not how I treated anyone in this town.

But there was something about (y/n). Yes it was cliché but with (y/n) I didn’t have to live up to a reputation. She seemed completely indifferent towards me. She wasn’t impressed by the bad boy act so I thought maybe she would appreciate me being…nice. Damn! Hargrove stop turning into a softie. You’re behaving like a wimp.

“It’s because your friends aren’t around, right?” She murmured.

Startled, I looked at her for a second, “(y/n) it’s…I can’t-

“It’s okay Billy! I am used to people turning to me whenever they feel its right.” She sighed and pulled the jacket off. It was hard to focus on the directions she gave me after hearing the sad tone of her voice. When I pulled over in front of her house, she folded the jacket and handed it to me, “Thanks Hargrove.” She smiled.

“Give it to me tomorrow.” I winked at her.

She shook her head and put it on my lap, “Don’t want your friends to get the wrong idea.” She gave me a sad smile. I was surprised at how well she could read me and for a moment I sat there; dumbfounded. Maybe she really was nice and it wasn’t an act. Maybe there was one beacon of hope in this shitty town and I was being an asshole unnecessarily. Suddenly recovering from the epiphany I turned to pull the passenger door shut that she had opened. I ended up trapping her body against the seat in the process.

“For the record I do care.” She furrowed her brows but suddenly nodded as if remembering what she had said earlier.

“Sure. Goodnight Billy.” My name softly rolled off her tongue in a whisper. She held her gaze with me as if expecting me to say something. Honestly in that moment I just wanted to apologize to her for being a dick and feel her lips against mine.

“Good Night (y/n)” She raised her eyebrows in surprise as she heard me say her name, probably for the first time. Without saying much she slowly got out of the car and walked towards her house.

As she walked into the house I grabbed the jacket that she had left, her scent faintly lingered on the fabric. This definitely wasn’t infatuation anymore. That’s when I knew, I was a dead man!

TAG LIST:

@wefracturedmotivation @thoughstofaredhead @savannah-m-99 @spideyjoy @peanutlicker5000 @lovelydreamer-2000 @mysticfluffyness

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andwejust-ran · 6 years

Text

You Believe in You and I -Ch. 1

@brawnysloth collaborated on our very first Jopper fic. It’s family fluff, angst, and of course, romance. It’s based on a prompt that we received, but we’re keeping the prompt secret for now. We’ll reveal it in time.

The fic will also be on AO3.

"Him being prideful and emotionally shut down and unavailable...but she can still see potential in him." -David Harbour

Late Winter 1986

Hopper and El drove along the winding path toward the Byers house, the boxes in the back of the car bouncing from the uneven road. Today was officially the day they’d be moving in with Joyce and the boys. The winter seemed like it wasn’t going to let up anytime soon, and as safe as the cabin was, it was no longer viable for them to stay there.

El buzzed with excitement. She sang along to Robert Palmer’s ‘Addicted to Love’, occasionally sneaking teasing glances at Hopper. He rolled his eyes but turned it up with a grin. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but yeah, he was a little bit addicted to Joyce and their budding relationship.

As they pulled up alongside Joyce and Jonathan’s cars, the door to the house immediately flew open to reveal Joyce. Will barreled out from behind his mother, sprinting up to the car just as Hopper killed the engine. Clearly both kids were excited by the new arrangement, and he was grateful. He’d been worried that the boys would be annoyed by the intrusion, but as Will bounced from foot to foot next to his door, he felt relieved.

He shooed Will away so he could open the door, glancing back towards the house to spot Joyce and Jonathan coming down the steps.

“You excited then, buddy?” he teased, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Will nodded. “I couldn’t sleep! And we’ve been waiting for you for hours. Let’s do this!”

El rounded the car and the two kids hugged before chatting excitedly about the new arrangements.

“Mom says the bunk beds will be here Monday,” Will said, “and they come with a trundle! For when we have people for sleepovers.”

El’s face scrunched in confusion at the unknown word. “Trundle?”

“Yeah I’ll show you pictures in the catalog come on.” He grabbed her hand and made to head back to the house.

“Ah ah no,” Joyce said sternly, “no one goes back into that house empty handed. Grab a box come on.”

They turned, Will promising to show her pictures later, and headed to the trunk to grab a box each. Jonathan passed by to follow, smiling at Hopper as he went. Hopper clapped him appreciatively on the back. He understood this was a lot for Jonathan to undertake, even if he was leaving in a few months for college. But the kid seemed to be taking it in stride, and perhaps even he was a little excited about the situation.

He turned back to find Joyce had come to a stop in front of him. He slid a hand along her waist.

“Hello,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her.

“Hi, you ready?”

“Been ready,” he said with a grin.

“Well if that were true you would’ve moved last month when I first asked,” she said.

He shrugged but said nothing back. Since they had started seeing each other early last summer - or as the kids had called it, “gone official” - he’d been hesitant to rush things in their relationship. He wanted everything with her of course, and he knew she did too. But he didn’t want to move too quickly, he wanted them to take their time. Their relationship was good, but he had a constant sense of its fragility, worried that something could go wrong at any moment that would put it at risk. And he didn’t want to welcome that by adding any stress or expectations.

So when she’d asked him last month to move in, had cited the cabin’s faults as a motive, he’d politely told her ‘not just yet’. But when the generator had stopped working last week and the temperature had plummeted once again, he’d taken her up on it, had decided what better time than the present?

A box floated precariously past them, and he turned to glare at El by the back of the truck.

“Hey, what did we talk about?”

“It’s too heavy,” she argued.

“You need your physical strength just as much as mental,” he reminded her, as he so often did when he found her cheating with her powers.

He didn’t like the idea of her needing any kind of strength, but there was no denying the ever constant threat of the unknown around them. And he worried that if she was in a bad situation, she’d be at risk if she relied too heavily on her powers.

The box dropped out of the air, landing with a thud at his and Joyce’s feet.

“Hey that could’ve been fragile.”

El rolled her eyes and shot back, “We both know it’s not. Nothing we brought is.”

“What do you mean?” Joyce asked curiously from next to him.

“Oh you know,” he trailed off as she moved away from him and back toward the kids.

He winced, already preparing himself for her reaction and followed her. In the back sat four boxes, the fifth out on the ground where they stood.

“Hop, this seriously can’t be all of it,” she said, pushing at a box or two to try and gauge their weight.

“Joyce we don’t have much, just clothes really. Couple of books, few other personal things.”

“Pots? Pans?”

He shrugged. “Only got the one.”

“One pot and pan?”

“One pan.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. He glanced sideways at the kids, unsure where this was about to go. Jonathan tried to hide a smile and grabbed for one of the boxes.

“Alright you two, let’s give the grown ups some space,” he instructed.

He led them into the house, stopping briefly to hand his box to El before picking up the discarded, heavier one. When they were back in the house, he turned to Joyce and shrugged.

“We don’t have much,” he said. “You don’t need or want any of that furniture, yours is all better. I just figured we’d leave everything there, use it as storage space.”

“I get that but Hop. If I’d know you were living so-“ she waved her hand around, searching for a word. “- I dunno, like that, I’d… Well I don’t know what I would’ve done but it’s just… it makes me kinda sad.”

He waved her off before reaching up to soothingly rub her shoulders. “It’s fine, it’s not sad, it just is what it is.”

“I know but Jane, she really doesn’t have anything? Toys or I dunno I guess she’s too old for that kind of stuff.”

“She’s got her bike,” he said, nodding toward where it sat in the back seat. “And her books. Kid doesn’t really want for much else.”

She sighed heavily, still not placated. He moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into him and placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“We’ll get her some stuff,” he said, “but really don’t worry, we’ve been fine.” He pulled away, grinning down at her. “But now we’ll be better.”

She smiled softly. “Yeah, we will.”

They pulled apart and both reached for the remaining two boxes.

“And besides, if there’s anything we forgot the cabin ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he threw over his shoulder.

The unpacking process was a bit chaotic, and he felt guilty about the fact that he hadn’t thought to organize things into separate boxes. Instead, he’d thrown things in haphazardly which meant they were all constantly running between Joyce’s - and now his, he thought with a grin - room and El and Will’s, swapping clothes to get them to their rightful spots.

At one point, Jonathan had brought a box through to them and unceremoniously dropped it in the doorway.

“Nope,” he’d said, his face contorted in disgust, before he’d disappeared back the hall.

Hopper lifted one of the flaps and winced when he found a pile of his underwear. Joyce looked over his shoulder and snorted.

“Good one,” she said.

“Could’ve been worse, I think my condoms are under ‘em.”

Jonathan immediately appeared again, face now a picture of contained anger.

“No,” he said, “they weren’t.” He flung the small box onto the floor as though they were hot to the touch, and then he quickly disappeared again.

Hopper’s eyes widened, mortified.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “maybe now’s a good time to move out?”

She blushed, grabbed the box and stuffed them into the open top drawer of her dresser. She shrugged, trying to play at nonchalance, but it was clear she was just as horrified as he was.

“James, he once caught you leaving my room half naked, I think he knew already.”

He smiled fondly at the use of his full name. Until recently, she hadn’t called him it since high school, since before everything with Lonnie had unfolded. And he had missed it. Now as their relationship progressed, it had been slipping out more and more.

“Well I guess if we ever move again you’ll have to oversee the packing.”

The rest of it thankfully passed with no more blunders. They still all maneuvered between the two rooms, and maybe Jonathan struggled to meet his eye, but it was soothing in its domesticity to the point where it was even fun.

Jonathan had his music blaring, and though it wasn’t particularly Hopper’s taste, it was entertaining to see Will wander out of the room, playing air drums as he tossed Hopper one of his work uniforms. Hopper would toss one of El’s books back and Will would catch it before bringing it up to strum at it as though it were a guitar.

More than once he went into the kids’ room to find them all sitting around, clearly having abandoned the unpacking, as Jonathan explained a fact about one of the bands on the tape to El. And he found himself standing in the doorway watching as she listened intently, and he couldn’t bring himself to get them moving again.

He was sorting his shirts into the drawer Joyce had cleared for him when he heard the music from the other room lower.

“Hey,” Will hollered, “what’s this?”

Panicked that they’d found something else embarrassing, he and Joyce quickly stopped what they were doing and moved down the hall to the other room.

Will sat on the bed, holding aloft a photograph as El and Jonathan inspected it over his shoulder. He turned it around to read the back, and he heard Joyce’s soft gasp as the photo was made visible to them.

“True love, established 1958,” Will read before looking up at them. “Mom is this you?”

Hopper felt an itch, a need to move forward and snatch the photograph away. He was embarrassed that they had found it, embarrassed that he’d even brought it in the first place. It was a photo of himself and Joyce, perched atop his dad’s Oldsmobile on his birthday, the day he’d been given the car. She sat between his legs on the hood of the car, his arms wrapped around her as he placed a kiss on her cheek. Her head was thrown back in laughter, and he can still remember her swatting at him teasingly just after the photo had been snapped; can still remember the citrusy smell of shampoo as his nose was nestled in her curls.

Joyce wrung her hands together nervously.

“Uh yeah baby,” she said hesitantly, “that’s me.”

“And you?” El asked, eyes locking with his. He nodded, short.

“So, ‘true love’, did you guys like go out?” Will asked, and for perhaps the first time, the kid’s curiosity annoyed him. He brushed it off and nodded again. “What happened?”

Hopper bristled and he just couldn’t help himself.

“Lonnie,” he sneered.

The room fell eerily silent as realization dawned on Jonathan and Will, both with matching disappointed looks at the mention of their father. El’s eyes widened, seeming to catch on to at least a bit of it. It was suddenly awkward, and he couldn’t bring himself to look back at Joyce.

He cleared his throat, stepping forward to gently take the photo from Will. The young boy looked up at him guiltily.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Hopper instantly regretted his harsh reaction. It wasn’t the kids fault, and hell it was in the past now.

“It’s okay buddy,” he said softly, “we wouldn’t have you otherwise.” He rested his hand lovingly on top of Will’s head, and met Jonathan’s eye, hoping to convey the same sentiment applied to him. Jonathan smiled weakly back, clearly appreciative but still feeling awkward at the reveal.

Hopper cleared his throat again and tucked the photo into his back pocket.

“Hey what happened to the tunes? I was just getting ready to give my hips a shake.”

El immediately protested and the boys laughed and semblance seemed to be restored. As he turned to leave, Jonathan turned the stereo back up.

Joyce had already left apparently, and he was quick to seek her out. He eventually found her stood out on the front porch, an unlit cigarette between her fingers.

“Hey now, you sneaking a smoke without me?”

She didn’t turn towards him, didn’t move to light the cigarette. He hesitantly moved around to face her. Her eyes were welled with unfallen tears, her lip trembled as she met his gaze.

“Hey, Joyce no don’t cry.” He moves to embrace her but she shuffled away.

“I don’t know how you could possibly forgive me for what I did,” she whispered, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her free hand.

He sighed heavily and moved forward again, this time not letting her escape. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked her head beneath his chin, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head.

“It took me a long time,” he said softly, “and sometimes I still get a bit angry thinkin’ bout it. But where would we be now, huh?” He pulled away to look down at her. “Maybe we’d be happy, maybe we’d‘ve been miserable, who knows? But I know you wouldn’t have your boys Joyce, and I wouldn’t have had Sara. And I don’t like the idea of any of that.” He wiped a stray tear from under her eye. “You hurt me Joyce, I’m not gonna lie to you. But it’s not worth getting upset over anymore.”

She sighed and dropped her head to rest against his chest.

“Hey today’s a happy day,” he said, nudging gently at her cheek. She lifted her head to look up at him. “No more crying, let’s have a smoke and we’ll get back to it, okay?”

She nodded, pulling away and lifting the cigarette up to her mouth. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head as she took her first drag.

He did still hurt to think about, the way she’d abandoned him all those years ago. He’d been a broken, shell of a man in the months, even years after. And when he’d returned to Hawkins, it had all resurfaced. But they’d found each other again, and he’d grown to love and care for her kids and though the pain of their teenage breakup hurt, though the loss of his daughter tore him apart, he wouldn’t change any of it.

The rest of the unpacking process didn’t take them too long in the end, but they still relented to the kids’ requests for pizza to celebrate. It seemed a fair reward, and even if it hadn’t taken long he could tell neither him or Joyce, or even Jonathan, wanted to cook.

They sat around the table and shared stories about the week past and about what was to come in the week ahead. Hopper regaled them with a story of catching a teenager spray painting in one of the alleyways off Main.

“I chased after him a couple blocks and caught him,” he said proudly.

“He tripped,” El added, tucking into another slice of pizza.

He leaned forward, a teasing glare on his face.

“Still chased him and caught him though,” he said, tapping the end of her nose.

When the pizza was done, they retreated to the living room and settled in to watch a film. It was all so normal, a standard evening for the group of them over the past year.

And perhaps that’s why it didn’t hit him until he was lying in bed a few hours later. When Joyce came through from finishing her nightly routine and moved to settle in bed next to him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“I live here now.”

She grinned, pulling back the covers and getting in beside him.

“You do,” she said, moving to lie on her side facing him.

He slid further down the bed to mirror her, shuffling over so he was so close he could rest his forehead against hers.

“S‘nice,” he murmured, smiling.

“Very nice,” she agreed.

“Could get used to it.”

“You better.”

He lifted his hand to lightly run his fingers along her bare arm. He watched the movement for a moment before meeting her eye again.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“I know.” He rolled his eyes and she giggled in response. “What? It’s sweet.” She closed the small gap between them and kissed him.

“I love you too,” she whispered when she pulled away.

He closed the gap again, capturing her lips with his. His hand moved from her arm up into her hair at the back of her head, and he nudged her gently until she was lying flat beneath him. His lips left her mouth and trailed down her chin to her neck, tongue lapping at her pulse point.

“Where’d you put the condoms again?” he mumbled against her skin.

She gave him a light shove and when he pulled away, he found her looking at him admonishingly.

“Just because we’re living together now doesn’t mean we need to have sex all the time.”

“I know,” he argued, only a little put out as he rolled off and back to his side but still near her. “Just thought it was a nice moment.”

She reached up and turned off the light on her bedside table. She reached for him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him.

“Goodnight,” she said, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Night.”

There was a moments silence. And then another. Before she huffed and moved out of his arms and the light was back on.

“In the top drawer,” she said with a coy smile. “But I’m not getting up.”

He over exaggerated as he threw back the covers and leapt from the bed, causing her to giggle. He grinned as he rounded the bed towards the dresser, delighted that he could entertain her and make her laugh. Yeah, he thought, he could get used to this.

#collaboration #jopper #fanfic #angst #drama #family fluff #it's all fun and games in chapter one...#;)

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thedarklightwithinus · 6 years

Text

The meet and not quite greet | Two

AN; After much demand I have finally finished my part two! Do you want a part three? If you do let me know! Also, don’t forget to request anything

Summary; For unknown reasons, Billy has decided to tell a little white lie... Only it’s not so little.

Part One | Part Three

Halloween had come and gone and for the most part, Y/N had forgotten about her chance encounter with Billy Hargrove. Though she had heard whispered rumours about him during her time in school, nothing else had arose.

Y/N was a very observant person. While others were caught up in gossip or stories, she preferred to be on the side-lines, analysing and coming to her own conclusion as to why said problem had begun in the first place. She knew a lot of what went on in the small town of Hawkins. Some of which she wished she didn't know and some she just stumbled upon.

It was a Monday afternoon when, for the first time in her life, she had been dragged into the life of gossip. She walked trough the halls of the school, making her way to her locker which was located near the sport's hall when she heard it. Her name.

"That's her." A girl had muttered not so quietly to her friend who merely glared at Y/N. "That's Y/L/N."

Y/N, foolishly had looked around as if there was another with the same last name as her. She risked a glance at the girls who both, very un-lady like, scoffed and waltzed away from her. "Um..."

She continued on her way, shaking her head slightly as she stopped in front of her locker. Y/N had been half-way through opening the door when it was pushed closed and her shoulders were grasped tightly.

Y/N found herself being spun around to face a frantic looking Jonathan Byers. The pair had been best friends since the day they could walk. Joyce had been Y/N's mothers best friend in school so it was only natural the two spent a lot of time together as children. Though the last few months the pair had been growing apart, Y/N still considered the boy her best friend.

Y/N had always stuck up for Jonathan in front of others, even when she knew he was wrong. She'd then privately let him know what she really thought and how he should have behaved differently, who he should apologize to, how to avoid repeating the mistake. Jonathan listened to her because she listened to him. Sometimes she could lose her temper and be a right pain, then it would be his turn with the sage advice. The pair were friends no matter what.

"Is it true?" Jonathan asked, almost frantically.

"Is what true?" Y/N stuttered, trying to shake the shock from her.

"Did you sleep with Billy Hargrove?"

"Did I... Are you kidding me?" Y/N hissed, lowering her voice as she moved towards him slightly. "Where'd you get that nonsense from?"

"It's all around school!" Jonathan exclaimed, looking around as he saw the girls glaring at Y/N while most of the boys checked her out as though she was now an easy lay. "You can't get away from it."

"I haven't slept with nobody, certainly not Billy Hargrove!" Y/N hissed once more. "I haven't spoken more than a few words to the boy!"

"That's not what he says." Steve Harrington's voice broke through the small bubble the pair was in.

Y/N spun around and glared at him. "He's started all this?"

To say that Y/N hated Steve a year ago was an understatement. She detested him. He had managed to bully his way to the top, often targeting people who couldn't stick up for themselves. He was an absolute tool. However, for some reason or another, his head had deflated and he became a somewhat decent lad. He was more polite and Y/N couldn't remember the last time she had seen him pick on someone.

"Heard him telling Tommy how you and him had slept together over the weekend." Steve grimaced as though the thought of Billy Hargrove sleeping with someone revolted him. "Went into a lot of detail on how you wer-"

"We don't need to hear all of that!" Y/N butted in, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Where is he?"

"Last time I saw him, he was by that junk he calls a car." Steve shrugged, pulling open his locker located two away from Y/N.

Y/N swore under her breath as she locked her locker before stomping down the corridor back towards the exit.

"You didn't actually sleep with him, did you?" Steve hollered out, watching her angry form stomp towards the double doors.

"Fuck off, Steve!"

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michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 6 years

Text

Bad Brains

[1] [2] [3]

Chapter 4: At War with Myself.

(AO3) (FFnet)

November 15th, 1987

When El said goodbye to her old life, she had left everything behind and not looked back. She thought she could just drop everything and start over, with a new family, in a new town, at a new school, and a new outlook. She was right for the most part, but one thing she didn't account for were the nightmares.

God the nightmares.

It was like her own brain was betraying her. Every night she would go to sleep and be forced to relieve everything that she had gone through. Being passed around from home to home, every abusive foster parents, every meal she missed, every time she had been abandoned and left alone to fend for herself.

She lost count, after awhile, of all of the people and places she had met. All of their faces began to blur together into one ugly scowl of resentment and hatred. And in her dreams that same face taunted her, and chased her, and made her feel like the scum of the earth. She heard their voices, telling her that she wasn't good enough, that no one would ever love her. That she was doomed to spend her life unwanted and forgotten about.

These dreams always put her in a haze for the days that followed. Like a black cloud of self hatred and fear that she couldn't escape. The Therapist Hop made her see had told her it was normal, and that after a while it would go away, but that didn't make it any easier.

One more than one occasion her sobbing had woken Hopper up from his room down the hall, he always tried his best to console her, but some things are just too painful to leave in the past, they just haunt you forever.

Tonight was different though. Instead of being woken up by her adoptive father gently holding her and telling her it would be okay, she woke up to complete and utter silence. She jolted upright, and tried to listen for the sounds of Hoppers breathing down the hallway, but there was nothing. No TV downstairs, no shuffling in the kitchen, no footsteps in the bathroom. It was strange, and unsettling, and it was far too reminiscent of all of the times this had happened in the past.

Waking up alone in a house you barely recognize, with no one around to hold you.

She swung her legs out from under her thick quilt into the cool night air. She tiptoed across her room and opened the door, not wanting to make a sound. She made her way to the staircase and listened hard for the usual sounds of the TV blaring some late night talk show below, but there was only silence in reply. She took a deep breath and descended the stairs.

She felt the breath leave her body when she saw his keys were still hanging up on the tiny hook next to his hat. He’s still here. She walked into the living room.

She could see his outline, wrapped in pulsing blue light from the TV screen. He was sitting in his usual chair, but instead of watching the program, he had set it on silent, and he was resting his head in his hand, the way he did when he was upset.

“Hop?” She said after a few seconds. Her voice so hoarse it was hardly more than a whisper.

Jim didn't say anything, instead he just stuck his arm out and waved El over. She complied, rounding his chair to face him. He had been crying, his skin was red and puffy and his eyes were badly bloodshot. She had never seen him cry before, he was always so strong.

“What's wrong?” Her own voice caught in her throat as if she had been the one crying.

He said nothing again, but he pulled her into a bear hug, holding her tightly as she curled into his lap. It was strange, but it also felt completely necessary. No one had held her, or hugged her, or cradled her in years, but it was something she didn't know she needed until tears started rolling down her cheeks.

They stayed that way for a long time. Both silent, the only noise spilling quietly from the TV in the corner. Jim rubbed her head, her hair was a mess of loose curls from her shower the night before. It was rare that she didn't have them slicked back and he always messed with them when he got the chance.

“I hope you know that I care about you more than anyone else in the world.” He finally said. His voice even more gravely than usual.

She pulled away from the hug to look at him, for the first time, finally seeing what he looked like when he cried. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, and read it in his eyes, but it was hard for her accept. “Why?” It was the only thing she could think to say.

“Because you needed someone to take care of you. Because you were all alone but you still acted so tough” He chuckled despite his tears. “And because while I thought I was just doing my job, just doing the right thing, I needed someone to take care of. I needed a reason to be a better person.” His voice was full of guilt and remorse. He sounded so vulnerable compared to how calloused he usually was.

With that she started crying harder. Her small frame shaking with her sobs. He hugged her closer and rocked her gently the way he used to with his own daughter.

“I just hope you know how much I love you, Kid. Even if it takes you the rest of your life to believe. I love you.”

El hugged her father tighter. His words were hard to swallow, because not long ago she wouldn't have been able to believe him. But now that they were all each other had, she knew she had to start the process of forgiving herself for all of the things she blamed herself for, and move on. When everyone leaves you, you start to assume it's your fault, but Jim never let her think for a second that it was.

“I know Jim. I love you too.”

November 20th, 1987

The next week flew by.

Max’s evil plan had gone off without a hitch. Thompson cancelled his classes for two days while he and the janitor cleaned up the mess. They had no leads as to who the perpetrators were because, after all, he was the most hated teacher in school.

Max and El started spending more and more time with the Geek Team, or the ‘Party’ as they called it. Max, Dustin and Lucas formed an unlikely bond and hung out almost every chance they got. They often rode around together, the boys on their bikes and Max on her board, to the arcade after school. Rumor has it that Max even went with them to the library one day so Dustin could show her his favorite book about the history of practical jokes.

El and Will bonded pretty quickly too. It turns out that little Byers had a pretty expansive music taste.

“I should have known!” El had told Will after finding his The Clash mix in his backpack. “Jonathan complimented me on my Talking Heads shirt on the first day of school. He was like the first person to ever talk to me here.”

Then began a daily routine of gushing over new albums and songs, and debating the merits of one band over another. They made each other mixtapes and often walked to and from the classes they shared, squishing their heads together to listen to Els dinky headphones.

The only one who seemed out of place was Mike. Ever since Max told him the way El felt, a concept he still had trouble believing, he found it really hard to be around with her without turning into a big dope. He was almost jealous of Wills connection with her, but ultimately he was just happy Will had found someone he had so much in common with.

It was a grouping that rattled the entire High School social ladder. Could scary punk girls really be friends with scrawny nerds? Could brainiacs really stand hanging around cigarette smoking, thick-skulled, freaks? It was weird, that was for sure, but it didn't really start to freak anyone out until the first day that they all sat together at lunch.

“Holy shit are they coming to eat with us!?” Dustin spat as the two girls, lunch trays in hand, slowly made their way across the cafeteria.

“Why wouldn't they? They are our friends aren't they?” Mike said, pushing his gross mushy peas around on the plastic tray.

“Well yeah! But sitting with someone at lunch is a way bigger deal than just hanging out in between classes. Once you eat lunch with someone you are socially cemented together for life!”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Lucas flicked Dustin's ear. “I'm just glad they aren't eating out behind the dumpster like usual. That's what’s weird.”

The girls walked over, faining obliviousness to the blatant stairs from around the room, and plopped down at the boys table. Max taking a seat next to Lucas, and El squeezing herself in between Will and Mike.

“So what are we doing today?” Max said with a mouthful of bread.

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“Its friday, as in the weekend, as in no school so we need to do something fun.”

“We could go to the arcade!” Lucas chimed.

“Ugh no we do that like everyday and i'm out of money.” Max groaned. The other boys nodded and mumbled something about being broke too.

“Okay well... We could go to the library.” Dustin contemplated.

��I mean I guess, but that hardly sounds like an exciting weekend.” Max rolled her eyes.

Mike thought about all of the things that might be fun to do, but he figured that most of them were too dorky for El and Max to want to be a part of. He looked over at El and watched her passively stab at her food. Mostly just mixing it around rather than eating it.

“Everything okay?” He asked her quietly. It's not like the other could hear over Dustin and Max’s bickering anyway.

“Huh?” She looked up at him, suddenly snapped back to reality. “Oh yeah. Everything is fine I just... i'm failing geometry and my dad is totally going to freak out on me. Mrs. Lawrence asked me to stay after class and everything. I doubt i'll be able to do anything this weekend.”

“Oh that really sucks.” He mused. Mike had never failed anything in his life, and he could only imagine the wrath of his mother if he ever did. He had always enjoyed math in all of its forms, he excelled at it. He was even Mrs. Lawrence's star pupil, a title that earned him a lot of torment.

“Are you hearing this shit El!?” Max hollered from across the table. El jumped from the startle of being yelled at and looked up. “They told me there is a cool junk yard on a hill! It has a bunch of old broken down cars and TV’s and stuff!”

“That sounds cool.” El smiled with a slight nod. “But I don't think I can hang out today.”

“Well your loss then, i'm totally going to smash in some windows.” Max high-fived Dustin and Lucas and they planned their entire trip.

The rest of the day went by in a fog for El. The emotional interaction she had with Hopper just a few days before had put her in a weird headspace. She really was learning to love him, even if it terrified her. He was goofy, and protective, and above all else he was trying. So she wanted to try too.

El had always been great with anything English related. When she didn't have anyone to play with or talk to, books became her best friends. So while she had an A in English Lit., and in her creative writing class, math was another story. She hated it. Numbers made no sense to her. Not the way words did. But, she had promised herself to stay out of detention, and to get her grades up, and if that meant suffering through after school study sessions with her teacher then so be it.

After her final class of the day, she made the long walk of shame back to Mrs. Lawrence's classroom and waved goodbye to Max, Dustin, and Lucas who were all going off to the junkyard.

“Good afternoon Ms. Hopper.” Lawrence said from behind her romance novel. “Why don't you take a seat while we wait for your tutor to arrive.”

“Tutor?” El gaped. Her heart started racing at the thought of having to spend the next three hours with some asshole, mouth breathing, brainiac who would no doubt belittle and talk down to her the entire time.

“Yes dear. Here he comes now.”

El swiveled around to watch her dreaded mentor walk through. But instead of some rude, gossipy stranger it none other than;

“Mike!?” Els mouth fell open, and then turned into a wide grin. Three hours alone with Mike in the quiet library? That didn't sound too bad at all.

“Mr. Wheeler has the highest grade of all my students” Mrs. Lawrence beamed, standing up from her desk with a stack of papers that she handed to Mike. “This is everything Ms. Jane needs to get caught up on. I know its a lot but if anyone can help her it's you.”

“Yeah no problem, it's my pleasure.” Mike smiled coyly at El and she blushed.

The two of them walked slowly toward the schools library where a couple of other students were studying. It was mostly empty and really quite. They found a private corner with two cozy chairs and a small table between them and set up the stacks of papers, sharp pencils, and textbooks. El and Mike couldn't stop stealing quick glances at each other.

El pulled her legs up into her chair so she was criss-cross, and leaning over her hardly used textbook. Mike noticed the tiny doodles all over the tips of her converse, and the way she nervously picked at her chipped black nail polish. When Mrs. Lawrence had asked him to tutor someone after school he had practically jumped out of his skin, knowing it would be El. And now he got to watch the way her nose wrinkled in confusion at problems she didn't understand, and the way she rubbed the bridge of her nose the way he had seen Chief Hopper do whenever he had to come to the school to break up a fight.

“So...” Mike started, remembering a key piece of information that Mrs. Lawrence had told him. El looked up, her doe eyes expectant. “Jane?”

El's wide eyes somehow shot open wider and her mouth dropped open into a half surprised, half smiling, glare. “Do not call me that!” She slammed her textbook closed and pointed a finger at him. He couldn't help but laugh.

“Why not? Jane is a good name.” He snickered.

“Oh my god no its not! It's a name for a grandma!” She rubbed her temples. “I haven't gone by Jane since I was like 6. It's not me.”

“Well where does El come from then?”

“It was a nickname an old friend gave me a long time ago. Its short for Eleven.” She shrugged, her cheeks turning a brilliant shade of pink. Eleven had been her bed number at the massive foster home she stayed at. Everyone called each other by their bed numbers, or their home cities. Keeping a level of unfamiliarity between each other, because they knew nothing was permanent.

“Eleven? Like the number?” His nose crinkled in confusion.

“Its... kind of a long story.” El's smile faded as she glanced at her shoes.

“Well I think Jane is cute.” He smiled at her. His freckles rising and falling on his cheeks.

El's heart constricted and her stomach twisted itself into little buzzing knots, and just like that, she was grinning again. He was so nice, and sweet, and adorable! It made her feel like her protective walls were coming down and it horrified her.

‘God I am such a sucker.’

He was still staring at her and her heart only beat faster.

‘Shit what would Max do? What would Max say? Max wouldn't be a little coward.’

“Well I think you're cute.” She said, turning her nose up just slightly the way Max always did. Mikes eyes flew open and now it was hit turn to redden and bury his face in his hands.

“Lets... lets just study okay?” He said under his breath with an embarrassed grin.

El opened her book again and they started tackling one assignment after another. Mike really was great at geometry, and he was even good at explaining it in a way that made sense. A couple of times he had shifted to the very edge of his seat so that their knees were touching. He would lean over the book in her lap and point to various problems on the page and simplify them for her. She loved watching the way he pushed up the sleeves of his long polo when he got invested in explaining a problem, and the way he bit his lips when he focused. She was actually having fun while learning!

Every time she looked up from her notes, the sight of him made her head swim. She couldn't quite figure it out. Why did he make her feel this way? It was all so new and unfamiliar. They had very little in common, at least from what she knew about him, and if it weren't for Lucas and Dustin wanting to be daredevils all of the sudden then they would never have hung out in the first place. Mike was painfully dorky, and painfully different than anyone El had ever imagined herself being with, and yet she imagined being with him all the time. What was it about him that drew her in?

For Mike it was much of the same. El was definitely the last person he ever expected to be making heart-eyes at in the Library. She certainly wasn't the type of girl that his parents would want him bringing home (although they would probably be happy with him bringing any girl home). But everything about her fascinated him. At first it seemed like maybe it was just the fact that she was the first girl to ever really talk to him, or laugh at his jokes, or invite him to hang out. He assumed it would wear off and she would become just his good friend the way Max was, but the longer they spent time together the more intense his feelings became. Suddenly it was like everything she did filled him with fascination and adoration.

She was a mystery that he wanted to solve. He closed his book and stretched, feeling a bit stiff from leaning over his notes for so long.

“El?” He asked tentatively, wanting to get to the bottom of at least some part of all this. She looked up at him curiously with those warm doe eyes of hers. “What... what is your deal?” He wasn't really sure how to put it, but he knew that that probably wasn't it.

“My deal?” El asked raising her eyebrows and looking somewhat offended.

“Shit I didn't mean it like that... I just mean like...” He thought for a second, wanting to find better words this time. “I have just never met anyone like you before, and I never thought someone like you would want to talk to someone like me, let alone hang out with me. And I have never been to Chicago so I don't know what people look like or act like there but you are just so different from what I thought you would be.” By the end of his speech he was mumbling and speeding through his words.

El laughed and closed her book. “Haven't you ever heard the saying ‘Don't Judge a book by its cover?’ She waved her textbook at him. She was still smiling, so that was a good sign, wasn't it?

“Well yeah of course I have I just mean-”

“You just mean that you thought I was going to be some angry, bitter, feminist, psycho who would rather kick your teeth than be seen talking to a nerd.” El interrupted, still smiling but also still completely dejected.

“No no not at all!” Mike back-peddled. El raised her eyebrows and he caved. “Okay yeah maybe a little.”

“Well there are a lot of things you don't know about me.” El crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “I might be a little bitter, and a little angry but you would be too if you had seen the things that I have seen. But i'm not mean, at least not to people who don't deserve it.”

Mike felt like an idiot. “You're right. I don't really know anything about you, but I would like too.”

She eyed him carefully. He was getting way too close for comfort with her emotions. “We are just from completely different planets okay? You wouldn't get it.”

Now it Mikes turn to be offended. He may not share her experiences but he considered himself a fairly empathetic person. “You don't know that I wouldn't get it. There is a lot you don't know about me either.”

“Let's see about that.” El snorted, sitting forward to look directly at him. “I'll bet your parents are still together, and super in love. I bet your dad has a good job and makes a ton of money so your mom gets to stay home all day baking cakes. I bet when your dad comes home at night your mom drops everything and hands him a beer and rubs his feet. I bet they love and support you and give you everything you have ever wanted.” Her eyes were like daggers, piercing through him.

Mike scoffed and shook his head. “Now who is judging who? I'll have you know that my dad is a bastard. I wish my parents would just split up already because they may as well be complete strangers. My dad thinks I am a loser and my mom tries her best, I guess, but they both basically don't pay any attention to me.” He was raising his voice slightly, talking about his family always put him on edge. El just stared at him silently, clearly not expecting the outburst.

“I'm the only boy, and my dad wanted so badly for me to be into sports and be all athletic like he was in school, but i'm not and I know he resents me for it. So yeah, maybe I have had a good comfortable life with two parents in a nice house, and maybe my parents do love me but the definitely don't like me.” Mike slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed tightly against himself.

El softened, realizing that all of that was probably really hard for him to say. She put a hand on his knee despite him looking away from her. “Look i'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off like a bitch, okay? I know what's it's like to have an asshole father. Believe me.”

Mike turned towards her and dropped his arms into his lap. El was still holding his knee but she was staring solemnly at the ground. “Is... Is that why Hopper adopted you? Because of your dad?” He asked in almost a whisper.

El took a deep breath and nodded. She could feel her protective force field falling down around her, and as much at it terrified her, it also felt like maybe it was the right thing to do. Maybe it was better to talk about it.

“Yeah. Kind of. It's a lot.... that I don't really want to get into.” She pulled her hand from Mike's leg to play with the frays on her shoe laces nervously.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But i'm here if you need to talk.” He patted her arm gently and it made her smile.

“Thanks. It's just hard to think about.” She took a sobering breath and gained her composure. “I was really little so I don't remember very much, so I guess that's good. But before Hopper found me I was living on the streets with some other foster kids. I looked up to them a lot and they showed me all about music, and art, and about how corrupt society is. We ran away and it was scary but it felt really exciting to be part of something for the first time. We were like a family..”

“Do you miss them?” Mike asked quietly.

El shrugged.. “Sometimes. But they bailed on me too. That's when Hopper found me, and I am really grateful for that.” She grinned crookedly. She had only ever really opened up to Max about any of that, and it wasn't even scratching the surface of what she was holding onto. But saying it all out loud made it easier somehow, like it wouldn't weigh on her so heavily.

“Well i'm glad you are here now, and that you have a family, and new friends.” He smiled at her, leaning in closer, their faces only a few inches apart. “Because we would never leave you or hurt you.”

“You can’t know that.” She dropped her gaze from his to her hands in her lap.

“I promise.” He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them lightly. “Our parties number one rule is that friends don't lie.” He tilted his head under hers so that she was forced to look at him, and could see that he meant it. “And besides, if I can put up with Lucas and Dustin after all of these years then i’m sure you will be no problem at all.” He flashed a silly grin at her and it made her chuckle.

“Okay then. It's a promise.” She pulled from his grasp and held her hand out firmly for him to shake. He did so sternly and they both giggled, turning red in the face.

Usually El didn’t care about someone else's promise, because no one had ever kept their word to her before, but something about Mike seemed so trustworthy. She still had a difficult time with even the idea of opening up. She still blamed herself for so much, and with Mikes kindness and honestly, it just felt like too much. Like she didn't deserve it. Like he would, at any moment, realize that she was a mess, and he and the rest of the party were far better off without her. That they would leave her too, but at least she was willing to try. Mike made her want to try.

Three long dreaded hours had flown by in only minutes, and before either of them knew it, the Librarians as informing them that the library would be closing.

“So did any of that help?” Mike asked as he shoved his notebooks back into his backpack.

“Yeah actually, it helped a lot. I think I can probably finish the rest of this over the weekend.” She smiled at him and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

They both made their way outside into the chilly November evening. The sun was still about an hour from setting, but everything was vaguely tinted a pale shade of autumn orange. They both stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to say goodbye just yet.

Mike reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground. “I um... I had fun hanging out with you.” His pale freckles were awash in red blush.

“I had fun hanging out with you too.” El punched his arm playfully. “And if I need any help with my homework this weekend, i'll call you.”

“Sounds good.” He beamed, smiling wider than he meant to. “Okay well... I guess I will see you later?”

“Yeah see you around.” El hugged her denim jacket tighter around herself and prepared for the walk home. Mike turned around and shuffled off towards the bike rack, when El remembered something. “Hey Mikey?” She hollered.

He whipped around so quickly that he tripped over his own feet, making her giggle. “Yeah what's up?” He semi-jogged back over to her.

She dug into her backpack and pulled out her Walkman. She pressed the little eject button and the tape deck popped open. “Here, why don't you listen to this over the weekend and report back to me with what you think on Monday. That way you have homework too.” She grinned.

“Yeah sounds awesome!” He blurted. She giggled again.

“Okay, Wheeler. See ya.” She waved goodbye one last time and turned away, walking up the long hill towards home. She reached reflexively for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and lit one, letting warm smoke waft into the fall air around her. It was one of the first times in a long time that she wasn't using it to calm her nerves, because the nerves she felt were strangely comforting.

Mike held the little plastic tape in his hands and felt warm blush cross his face for what must have been the hundredth time that evening.

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rax-writes · 7 years

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Title: Teenage Rebellion Fandom: Stranger Things Characters: Jonathan Byers x Reader Reader Gender: Female Word Count: 1,355 Warnings: Some swearing, mentions of bullying Notes: Based on a request from an anon for “Could you do a Jonathan Byers fic with the prompt ‘I always hide in this one stairwell whenever I’m having a mental breakdown / existential crisis / etc but today when I came here you were already there’ Thank you!”

Jonathan Byers had grown very accustomed to people whispering about him, often pointing and giggling amongst themselves as they did so. Because of this, it didn’t bother him when a few of his peers began gossiping about him – until he heard his mother’s and brother’s names come up.

“I still don’t think that Will Byers ever really went missing. That freak show of a family probably just wanted to land some paid interviews or something.”

“I think the mom is a bit of a schizo. She probably just had a psychotic break and made the whole thing up.”

Jonathan could hear the teacher yelling after him as he left the room. He knew that if he had to sit there and listen to those idiots for another second, he’d have ended up getting suspended. The teachers would undoubtedly be looking for him, so he went to the one place he knew they’d never check.

The basement of the Hawkins High gymnasium had been abandoned since it flooded over two years ago. Mold had grown, and the water-logged sports equipment had left a lingering, unpleasant odor, so they simply hadn’t used it since. The stairwell there was typically dark, lit only by a single, flickering light bulb, and incredibly musty. Despite its usual isolation, Jonathan found someone already sitting there.

The hood of their jacket was pulled up, and they were resting their head against the wall. At first, Jonathan thought they hadn’t noticed him, then the figure let out a casual “Sup?”

“Uh…. I can leave, if you want,” Jonathan offered.

“Nah, this place isn’t exactly teeming with excitement, and you’re probably here for a good reason. You might as well stay,” they said, then pulled down their hood, revealing an exceptionally beautiful face. Jonathan momentarily forgot how to function, until she gestured towards the stairs, indicating that he should take a seat. He did as she bade him, dropping his bag and sitting a few stairs up from her.

She announced her name and held her hand out, which Jonathan shook while praying that she wouldn’t notice that his hands had grown slightly clammy.

“Jonathan Byers,” he replied, then it clicked why he didn’t recognize her, despite the small size of their school. He had heard the teachers discussing her in the main office this morning. “You’re the new kid, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, it seems that I came a bit too late. I missed all the commotion about a boy disappearing, then turning up dead, then somehow being found alive…” she said, then laughed. “Seriously, did all that shit really happen, or is someone writing a sci-fi novel that I just don’t know about?”

“It really happened,” Jonathan answered solemnly, then prepared himself for her questions on the legitimacy of the story, which was how everyone else reacted.

She simply stared at him for a moment, studying him, then let out a low whistle and simply said “Wild.”

Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle at the peculiarity of her reaction, and he nodded in agreement. She leaned back against the wall once more, still facing him with a bemused expression.

“So, would it be cliché to ask: what brings you here, Jonathan Byers?”

“The other kids in my class were being assholes; saying they think everything with my brother was fake,” he replied, attempting to sound nonchalant, but he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone. “What about you? Everyone always seems to have a lot of interest in the new kid. Why are you down here, instead of becoming the new most popular girl in Hawkins?”

“It seems that their interest fades pretty quickly when you tell them to fuck off, because they were gossiping about some poor kid who went missing,” she explained, in that strangely casual tone of hers, stretching her legs out across the step she sat on. Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“You told a bunch of strangers to fuck off, because they were gossiping about some other strangers?”

“Yeah, they were being jerks,” she stated matter-of-factly, shrugging. “Anyways, I didn’t really want to go to class after that; I figure the principal will have a thing or two to say, on account of the fact that one of them was hollering that she was gonna tell him about it. I wandered around for a bit, then found this place, and decided it’d be a good spot to hang out until I can catch a ride home after school.”

“Oh my god,” was all Jonathan could manage to say, laughing. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” she responded, smiling. Jonathan couldn’t help but stare at her; even in the dim light of the stairwell, she was incredibly pretty, and her smile felt contagious. After a few seconds, he realized that he was staring, and quickly looked down at his hands.

“I could give you a ride,” Jonathan blurted out, then turned a light shade of scarlet. “I mean, if you want.”

“You know you don’t owe me or something, right?” Y/N asked very seriously, raising a brow. “’Cause I didn’t tell those people to fuck off for you. I did it because they were being jerks.”

“No, I know, I just…. I want to.”

“Well, alright then, Jonathan Byers, I would very much appreciate a ride,” she said, smiling again. “You wanna go back to class, or just skip the rest of the day altogether?”

“We could just skip. Go drive around, get some ice cream or something – if you want,” Jonathan suggested, then mentally slapped himself upon the realization that this was the third time he’d said ‘if you want.’ God, he sounded like a timid ten-year-old.

“Sweet, a ride and a personal tour guide,” Y/N teased, grinning. She stood and slung her backpack over her shoulder, and Jonathan followed suit.

The ride was a bit awkward at first, being that they didn’t know each other all that well, so they were unsure of what to talk about. But before long, they were having extremely engaging conversation, about everything from music to personal beliefs and philosophies. They picked Will up after school got out, then took him home and resumed their driving. By the time they pulled into Y/N’s driveway, the clock on the dash said 9:37 PM.

“I’m pretty sure that you’re the most enjoyable company I’ve ever had, Jonathan Byers,” she declared, grinning softly. A smile formed on Jonathan’s features, and he was immediately thankful that it was so dark out – otherwise, she’d have seen him blush.

He hadn’t been aware that it was possible to develop a crush on someone within a few hours, but here he was, blushing from a compliment and wishing nothing more than to continue spending time with her.

“Same time on Monday?” Jonathan suggested, and he was relieved when Y/N immediately nodded.

“I’d like that a lot.”

After a moment of silence, Jonathan turned to say something again – at the same moment Y/N leaned over to kiss him. Out of sheer shock, Jonathan quickly pulled away, unsure if that was her intent, and she stared at him with an unreadable expression.

“Well, I swear I was aiming for your cheek, but I was going to say that that works too. However, judging from how you reacted as if I have the plague, I’m going just go now, and pretend that this never happened,” she stated, attempting to hide her embarrassment with a bit of humor, then took her bag. Jonathan grabbed her arm, and she looked at him with raised brows. He took a moment to attempt to gather the words to explain that he didn’t mean to react like that, he really did want to kiss her, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out. Instead, in one swift movement, he pulled her closer and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say, and she grinned.

“I’ll forgive you – on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“This isn’t our last little car ride together. And this definitely isn’t the last time you kiss me,” Y/N said, and Jonathan smiled.

“Deal.”

@emmcfrxst @v-writings @skywalkingdixon @alexsunmners @harringtonmaximoff @stovehairington @brownvalerie @raypclmer

#jonathan byers #stranger things #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers reader insert #jonathan byers fan fiction #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fan fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fan fic #my writing #teenage rebellion

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werenskheeyyy · 7 years

Text

Rudely Interrupted - Brandon Mashinter

Helloooo! So I swear I’ve never heard of this guy before but he’s a BABE! I hope you guys all like how this turned out! Let me know what you think! Much love pals! <3

Word count: 887

Warnings: couple swear words, some steam but not full smut

Request: “Could you write something for Brandon Mashinter where he and the reader are “celebrating” and it gets somewhat steamy but before anything happens they’re walked in on by some of his teammates?” - @fuckingshiteater

Up next: Leon Draisaitl

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“WOOOO!” you cheered from the box with the other wives and girlfriends. The Blackhawks had just finished a road trip and after winning this game, had ended up with a seven game winning streak. And Brandon had scored tonight’s winning goal so that was just icing on top of the cake. You hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks and after all the success he had, you figured the two of you could celebrate privately at home.

You hung back with a couple other girls as you watched the boys file off the ice to cheers from the crowd. It was going to be a little while before they came out and you’d rather sit in a comfy chair then stand down by the dressing room.

Your phone went off and it was a text from Brandon, “be out in a couple mins babe, so excited to see you!” You sent back a couple heart emoji’s then gathered your stuff and made your way down the steps to the dressing room.

You flashed your pass at the security guard and waited around the corner from the dressing room. The door opened and the players began to file out, hooting and hollering along with the family and significant others that had gathered.

Your face broke out into a smile when you saw Brandon’s head over the crowd. His eyes scanned the crowd briefly then found yours. He rushed over to you, throwing his hands around your waist and picking you up. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and spun you around. “I missed you so much!” he murmured into your skin.

You kissed his jawline, “I missed you too babe!”

He carefully placed you back on the ground and you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling his face down to yours. His lips met yours and the two of you got lost in each other. You pulled away, slightly breathless and giggled, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, I hate being away from you” he mumbled, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Since it’s been almost two weeks since we’ve seen each other and since you’ve been doing sooo well in all your games, how about we go celebrate?” you seductively whispered in his ear.

He nodded then his eyes looked you up and down and almost immediately you could see the desire building. He tangled his fingers with yours and you both left the arena and got in the car.

The entire car ride home was filled with suggestive comments and flirty movements. Both of you just barely able to contain your excitement to be with each other again.

The moment you got into the apartment Brandon had you pinned up against the door. He hungrily attacked your lips with his and you could feel his length pressing against your thigh.

He gently bit your bottom lip causing you to let out a soft moan, “fuck I’ve missed you so much” you murmured as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

He slid his hands underneath the top you were wearing, his fingers lightly tracing over your bare skin. He began to pepper kisses down your neck, sucking on a patch of flesh near your collarbone. You let out a moan and tangled your fingers into his hair, basically melting in his hands.

He picked you up, effortlessly carrying you to the couch. He set you down, nudging your legs apart and placing his hips in between. He hovered over you as you resumed making out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You broke apart for a moment so you could slip off your top and bra then Brandon did the same with his suit jacket and button down. “So fucking beautiful” he whispered as he gazed down at you then he crashed his lips against yours.

You reached down to undo the belt on his dress pants, but let out a small scream when you heard the front door open.

“Hey Brando! Y/N! Who’s ready to party-oh my god what are you guys doing??” Jonathan Toews yelled out as he abruptly turned away.

“Get out!” Brandon exclaimed, tossing you his dress shirt to cover up with.

“Brandon’s getting it in!” Corey Crawford whooped between laughs. The group of boys were now crowded around the door with their backs turned to you.

“I was just about to get it in, until all of you showed up!” he growled. After making sure you were fully clothed again he let the guys come into the living room. Your face was still a little red,

“We texted you!” Jonathan said, “we told you we were coming!”

“You didn’t text me” he picked up his phone to take a look, “oh wait, there it is! Must have been to busy to hear it go off.” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in.

“So, are you guys gunna come out and celebrate with everyone? Or are you just going to continue your private party?” Corey smirked.

Brandon looked to you, “let’s go out with everyone!” you smiled. All the boys let out a cheer then went to the kitchen to grab some drinks. “Then we can come back here and finish what we started” you murmured into Brandon’s ear.

#brandon mashinter #brandon mashinter imagines #chicago blackhawks #chicago blackhawks imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl one shots #nhl drabbles #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey drabbles #hockey one shots #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #werenskheeyyy

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imagine--buddies · 7 years

Text

A Birthday In Color-- Daveed Diggs

Request!: N/a I just got an idea

Prompt: Soulmate AU! The one where you can only see black and white until you touch your soulmate

Paring: Daveed Diggs X Reader

TW: Cursing? Maybe?, Clipping. songs so yeah: cursing, drinking

WC: 1355

A/N- i came up with this a few months ago, but I never had time to write it. Well, after months of struggling to balance all of our requests I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE

Masterlist

“Happy Birthday to you! You live in a zoo! You look like a monkey…. Aaaaaaaand you smell like one too!” Jaz sung as you closed the door to your apartment and dropped the shopping bags in the hall. You rolled your eyes, “Really, Jazzy?” “Hey, lighten up! It’s your birthday, and also I have a present for ya!” She raised and lowered her eyebrows. You gave her a smile. The two of you currently sat in your living room, it was around five o’clock, and Jazz had joined you throughout the day for your birthday. After a day of massages and shopping you were surprisingly tired.

“Okay, I’ll bite, what is it?” You gave up. You hated guessing.

“You never did like guessing.” Jasmine smiled deviously, and pulled out two thin slips of paper from her back pocket. She handed them to you, and you took them with haste. They were black and white. Just like else things else you have ever seen. You slowly looked up, a shocked look on your face, “You did not…” She nodded furiously, and a wider smile spread on her face. You attacked her in a hug. She stumbled back and embraced you as tight as you did her. “I can’t believe you got me Clipping. tickets!” You pulled away. “I thought they were sold out!” “Well, I have my ways.” She popped her collar. “By ways, you mean, you begged Daveed to get you his guest tickets?” “No… I begged Ant…. who then begged Daveed, but hey! I got them!” She shrugged and you chuckled. “Still, thank you so much.” You looked at the tickets with a wide smile, you went to hand them back to her. “Describe the colors?” Jasmine smiled. Ever since she met her soulmate, Anthony, at her old job in Hamilton, she had been blessed with the ability to see the colors of the world; while you were still stuck in black & white. You’ve met Ant, but, unfortunately, haven’t been able to meet the rest of the cast. Especially the one you wanted to meet the most, Daveed. You’ve been following his band since the beginning, and when Jasmine told you he was in the same musical you couldn’t believe your chances. “Well, there’s not really anything to describe, you could know what color it is without me.” Jazz shrugged. “Black and white.” You stated, taking back the tickets, she nodded. “From what I’ve heard from Diggs, Jon and Will haven’t met their soulmates, and I don’t think Daveed has either.” “That explains the lack of color.” You nodded understandingly. “Yep. Now, the concert is in five hours, we should get ready. I have one more surprise for you.” ———————————————- “Happy Birthday!” The women of the cast of Hamilton, plus a few of your own friends, screamed, and engulfed you in hugs. “Jazz! This is my birthday party not my bachelorette party!” “They’re both a party! Just enjoy! Drinks are taken care of, and the concert is here, so we don’t have to worry about leaving, and making it somewhere else.” Jasmine explained, and flagged down the bar tender. “Get her a cherry vodka.” The bartender nodded then went to work. “Thanks Jazzy.” You gave her one last hug. “No need! Enjoy!” Jasmine put a black sash on you that said birthday girl on it, then went to greet Reneé and Phillipa. “So… Daveed is going to be here…” “Ariana!” You exclaimed and the two of you hugged. “Hey! Happy birthday!” Ariana exclaimed, pulling away to look at you. “Thank you.” “Back to Daveed. Do you think you’ll actually talk to him?” She asked. “Highly doubt it.” You said and took a sip of the drink Jazzy ordered for you earlier. “Why?” Context: Ariana shipped you and Daveed saying you were perfect for each other. Pretty soon the rest of the cast had also began shipping you too. “Two years of being mutuals through multiple friends and never even talking once or being in the same room for more than 10 minutes.” You deadpanned. “Good point.” Ariana chuckled. “But hey! It’s your birthday! Drink and enjoy!” You laughed as she downed her drink and ordered another. Music started up and she, along with a few others, pulled you to the dance floor. ————————————————- “Everyone! Give it up! For Clipping.!” You were pulled out of your drunken blur when you heard the club manager say Clipping.’s name. “Wait! They’re going on?! Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” You stumbled over your words. “Calm down, (Y/n).” Anthony chuckled. The men of Hamilton had arrived about an hour ago. “I can’t calm down, this is my favorite band!” You squealed downing your drink, grabbing Jazzy and Ariana’s hands, and rushing to the stage. Daveed along with William and Jonathan entered the stage. “There’s your boyfriend.” Ariana whispered in her ear and you pushed her away playfully. “Alright. How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” The crowd cheered. Daveed smiled, “We’re gonna get started, but first I wanna give a shout out to my Hamilfam!” The men and women around you cheered along with a few others who stayed at the booth/bar. Daveed got them to calm down after a bit, and Will gave Daveed a thumbs up, signaling they were ready. Daveed nodded, “Okay. We’re gonna start, enjoy the show!” And you did. You rapped along to all of the songs, skipping over the parts that you couldn’t rap because he just raps too fast. You danced along to the beat with Jasmine and Ariana, and you could truthfully say it was the best time of your life. The song ended and Daveed exited the crowd to go back on stage and get a drink of water. Will stepped from behind the booth and took the mic from Daveed. “Alright, last song.” Will said and the crowd awed. He raised his hands to tell the crowd to quiet down. “We know. We know, but come on. I know you all know it, rap along if you can.” He handed the mic back to Daveed, and got back behind the booth. Him and Jon bumped fist and they started the music. Work Work started playing and a smile spread on your lips. “Holler out your city if you ride for it Let em know why you die for it Same reason all these riders get high so it’s All medicinal now what you wanna buy, homie?” You rapped along and danced against Jazz and Ariana. Soon the chorus came up. Daveed was standing at the right edge of the stage farthest from you. “Get that work make that work work.” Daveed put out his hand and started to run across the stage. You exited the little dance circle and went to the front of the stage. “Go!” The crowd cheered as he ran across the stage, high fiving everyone. Unfortunately his hand didn’t touch yours the first time around. “Get that work, make that work work-” “Go!” The crowd yelled and Daveed took it as his que to run across the stage smiling so wide that his eyes were practically closed. This time, your hand made it into the high five line. “Get that work make that work-” Daveed got back into his rap mode and leveled his smile down, opening his eyes fully. The beat came and went, but Daveed didn’t continue like he was supposed to. You looked up to see what was happening, and apparently so did everyone else. The music stopped and Will and Jon looked very worried. The only thing different to you was that you could see color. The strobe lights kept going, you looked around catching glimpses of the clothes around you. A bunch of them were wearing mismatched colors and others were wearing Clipping. merchandise. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” You exclaimed, and all eyes turned to you. Daveed cleared his throat, and spoke into the mic, “I’m sorry about that, guys. I- I think I just found my soulmate.” He looked from your ‘Happy Birthday’ sash back to your eyes. “So um.. Happy birthday?” You smiled, and nodded, saying thank you. A Happy Birthday indeed.

Masterlist

tagging:

@a-blog-of-hamilton-and-writing

#daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader #hamilton blog #daveed diggs imagines #hamilton: an american musical #Hamilton imagine blog #hamilton #imagine buddies werk #imagines blog #hamimagines

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eveybronlin-blog · 7 years

Text

and the wisdom to know the difference...

It was starting to feel muggy out...like spring, but with winter’s heavy moist air not yet ready to leave. Jonathan and I tried not to fill the few days of reprieve from everyday routine in New Orleans life. Mardi Gras meant plans were always open to change and if something came up that sounded better than what you had going, you didn't hesitate to join. But what was best about being in the city at this time, besides the early spring weather, was Jonathan’s own ease in how he approached things. I needed that. Without it subtly shifting my own attitude, I’d be anxious and worried over everything and nothing all at once. But Jonathan never made me feel like I had to answer for anything, and we never had to rush or worry. When we had been together lately during the day -and evenings when we decided to head out- we spent the time just strolling around, stopping for coffee here and there, and making our plans up as we went along. He seemed to know everyone. This was nice, but I’d learned him well enough by now to know how much he appreciated being alone. This is how we found ourselves walking back home after a long afternoon with his friends, completely enjoying the quiet between us while people-watching - my favorite parts of Mardi Gras.

------------------------

I couldn’t remember the last time I was this tense while driving. I kept shaking my hands out when they cramped up on the steering wheel. Luckily the traffic gods were feeling benevolent, and the drive hadn’t been too bad. I figured another 20 or 30 minutes, and I’d be in New Orleans.

I had only been down a couple times to meet with Leo. She’d been down here that whole time, and I never knew it. At least I assumed she’d been here. I wasn’t sure about anything concerning her really. Was I ever?

Garett’s words kept replaying in my head. Drowning out whatever song was playing on the radio. Drowning. Thanks, Subconscious. He swore to me that Clea was doing better and had returned to work, but I still couldn’t bring myself to let her know what I was doing. The sight of her collapsing wasn’t one I wanted to repeat any time soon. I’d fill her in later. Maybe. If there was anything to tell.

---------------------------

On our way back, Jonathan had suggested we stop in one of the small shops on Magazine owned by a friend of his (of course) and after introducing us, she walked me through the shop grabbing “this and that” for me to try. She mentioned something about a “glass of wine and a hot bath” being “the cure for anything - especially a broken heart,” and I just looked to Jonathan quizzically - he motioned back silently that he had no idea what she meant. Maybe she just knew? I thought I'd done a good job of keeping everything below the surface. But maybe she was like Clea - she certainly seemed to be the sort who knew how to read someone. Once my bag was full, I went to pay and she pushed my money back to me, “Pay it forward,” was all she whispered my way as she took my hands in hers. It was almost too much. Jonathan put an arm around me and thanked her for me as he walked us out to the street.

Once we were home, he offered to take Sully for a walk while I went upstairs to put my things away. I thanked him again - and once again, he gave me the look that said “stop thanking me” - I was learning. Slowly. After hanging my beads from the banister, I made it into my room and shut the door. I took each little treat out carefully and laid them on the bed - after picking up Darius’s photos strewn out over the blanket and laying them back near my pillow.

I'd given up on putting his pictures anywhere else. They always ended up on the bed anyway - Annie was persistent. I'd taken to telling her some of my more favorite memories of Darius, hoping that would oblige her but I think I just encouraged her. Sometimes it made me feel better to share them...sometimes not so much. Today I wanted to enjoy my memories though. I grabbed the one of him and I that we took together while laying on the floor one night and carried it to the bathroom. Propped up against the bar of lavender soap I just opened, I left it alone as I scattered out the rest of the creams and lotions I'd been given. I walked back to my bed to get one of the candles - vanilla - and sure enough, when I walked back in the bathroom, his photo was flipped over and lying flat and facedown. Written on it was the date - the day we’d moved in together. 2014. God...had it been three years? I knew the answer. I just wished I could change it away. I'd left him a different man than he likely was today. And even then he was more of a man than I deserved… suddenly a loud smack came from the other room - I walked back in to investigate and sure enough, the box of all the saved letters and cards were flipped off the shelf again. “You know this would be a lot more fun if you could actually pick things back up, right?” I said upward, glancing around to the empty room as I picked some of my things up. The curtain breezed softly and seconds later my door slammed shut.

“Does Jonathan ever have to deal with Annie like this on his own?,” I wondered… “or am I just lucky?” I held tense for a second...waiting for a response that didn't come. That's fair. She's probably gone now.

I hesitated to go back downstairs but I wanted to try out this “wine and hot bath” suggestion. I figured I could clean the mess up off the floor while my water ran, so I walked back and started the bath before walking quietly downstairs to get a glass of wine. I looked around the kitchen but saw neither Sully nor Jonathan. The tub upstairs was huge - I had plenty enough time to have a small-ish glass before pouring another and going back upstairs with it. I leaned back against the counter as I slowly savored that first glass and listened for signs of life...or afterlife. Nothing. Perfect.

--------------

I took my time once I got into New Orleans. Checking the gps on my phone. Adjusting for parade route closures and detours. I knew I was close, but parking was a problem. I decided to park on a small side street and walk the rest of the way. It would give me time to think and figure out what I was gonna say.

Who was I kidding? No matter how much time I had, was never gonna find the right words. What do you say to the woman who vanished as soon as you proposed?

The Garden District was a really cool place to walk around. So much so I almost missed the house. What a house. It looked like something out of a movie. I triple checked the address and shoved my phone in my pocket.

I decided to walk around the corner and check out the house from other angles. Yeah. I was procrastinating. Maybe I was hoping to catch sight of her from a distance. Enough to see her and know she was ok, but not have to face her or my feelings. No such luck.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. I walked up to the front porch and knocked on the door.

----------------

I was half-way up the stairs with a second glass of wine when I heard the knock. I assumed a friend of Jonathan’s was stopping in to look for him, but I honestly didn't know where he'd gone - I had figured he was in the yard with Sully but, I don't know, maybe not. I rushed up the stairs hoping whoever it was wouldn't mind waiting a minute and hollered as I reached the top step, “Just a minute!”

After placing my glass down and turning the water off, I picked it back up, propped Darius’s picture back up...again...and grabbed my glass before stomping back down the stairs, “I’m coming!” I made it to the door quick enough to take a sip of wine before I swung the door open a bit too forcefully - but still smiling, “Sorry, Jonathan’s not h-...”

-My glass slipped out of my hand and crashed to the floor, glass and wine splattering everywhere...the room suddenly started to shrink and the floor lifted from under my feet-

“Oh god...oh my god...Darius…” The last thing I felt was my stomach leaping to my throat as I started to fall-

-------------

A dog barking behind me caught my attention. The next few minutes were a blur.

Her voice.

A crash.

The dog again.

A man’s voice.

My instincts kicked in as I saw her fall. Something shoved her...hard against me as I moved to catch her. I cradled her to my chest and felt a hand push me towards a parlor of some sort.

“No, Sully! Stay!”

I hurried over to the sofa and laid her down. So pale. Thin. Too thin. She weighed nothing when I picked her up. My heart sped up in my chest as I looked around.

Shitshitshitshitshit

Now what?

Shit.

-----------------

The ceilings are much higher than I remembered...blink...my first thought - then, oh my god, I have to clean up the glass…

I started to sit up, but the room still felt like it was shrinking...I blinked a few more times and refocused my eyes and my thoughts...oh my god...Darius

He was next to me, brushing my hair out of my face, looking back and forth between me and Jonathan...Jonathan was telling him something but I couldn’t make it out. I turned my head and the room spun...closing my eyes helped, but I wanted to stay awake in case he wasn’t really here and it all faded away once my eyes closed.

I tried sitting up again, onto my elbows...our eyes stayed locked and I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. My eyes burned as I gave into my tears...the last time I felt like this...I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I felt.

--------------

Everything told me to leave. Get the hell out of here and just drive. I hadn't felt like this since….since I fell in love with her. But now. Now I felt exactly like the monster she worked so hard convincing me I wasn't. First Clea, now Evey.

I didn't want to touch her. I swear I didn't. If I touched her, it meant she was here. If I touched her, it meant she rejected me.

I watched as my hand reached out and brushed the hair from her eyes. That's when she opened them. I jerked my hand back. Her eyes locked on mine. I heard a voice. That guy she was staying with? I have no idea what he said. All I saw were her eyes. And then her tears. Soon I couldn't even see those as my eyes, my face, my chest burned from tears of my own.

------------

I didn't know what to say, what to do. I'd done this. This was all my doing.

But he was here…

And I couldn't figure out what to do with that. I wanted to reach out and cry with him. For us to collapse into whatever it was. But the air felt as fragile as my glass on the floor and I didn't know if I’d break anything else.

Jonathan had stepped out. It was just us.

“Darius,” I started as I sat up and shifted myself onto the floor, “I'm so sorry.” My words tumbled out in fragments, broken by my tears, “I didn't…I thought,” ...I...I...I - always about me. Look what I've done… “I don’t deserve you…didn't,” I sat back on my heels and let the weight of my sin sink inside of me as I watched him weeping. I couldn't reach out to him. I wanted to, but I didn't deserve to. Wiping my face on my sleeve, I realized this may be the last time I’d see him, and I just broke even harder, sobbing as I took his rings from around my neck and tried to hold them out, clutching them in my hand too tightly to let them go. “I never deserved these,” was all I could get out, almost a whisper. “...didn't deserve you.”

My stomach wanted to leap from my throat. My head was still spinning and I couldn't hold my own weight up anymore...I slid off my own feet and fell at his. I just laid there and cried with my face against the bottom of his jeans...he smelled like home.

----------------

I finally understood Clea’s collapse. I hated it, but I understood it.

Tears continued to burn my eyes as I listened to her….confess? Apologize? Breakdown?

Voices. My head was filled with voices. “Who the hell does she think she is telling you what you deserve? What kind of lame response is I’m sorry? Sorry for what? Meeting you? Making you think you could ever be in love? Taking off without a word? Putting Clea through hell? WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE SORRY FOR?”

My hands shook as I fought the urge to rip my hair out. I couldn't do this. Couldn't give in to the anger eating away at my gut. It bubbled up like lava threatening to spill out all over the floor until I thought I wa going to dry heave.

The voices sounded like the people I grew up with. I couldn't really call them my parents.

They weren't my parents. It was biologically impossible. I still remembered telling her about it all. How I tried to block out a lot of it. The confusion. The investigation. How they found the other kid. Their "real" son. On paper anyway. How they tried to contact the family and see him, but the other family refused. Through a lawyer no less.

How they never treated me badly. Not really. How they never intentionally made me feel like a stranger...until puberty hit. That's when everything got worse. Happy 12th Birthday! You're even more of a freak now! How they thought I was trying to run away. How they tried grounding me, but every time that itching started I found a way out.

Finally the only voice in my head was mine.

ENOUGH!

Everything was so quiet. No dog. No voices. Just…..her sobbing. Her breath catching in her throat. She was a puddle at my feet.

Oh god, Evey. My Evey.

I slid off the sofa and wrapped myself around her like a blanket. It wasn't just her sobbing any more. The harder I cried, the tighter I pulled her against me. My tears soaking her back. Soon we were a tangle of arms, legs….and tears.

------------------

Time must have passed, but I couldn't have known how long. 5 minutes? 20? An hour? We just fell apart into one another for what felt like an eternity of time paused. I didn't even notice Darius holding me until he pulled me so tightly into himself - as if either of us might run away from all of it if we let go.

Suddenly I noticed the quiet. My hair, wet from both our tears, stuck to my face as I buried myself into his shirt. My hands were wrapped into the fabric so tightly - like I might fall if I let go. I couldn't feel the rest of me...just his arms and legs wrapped around me, his face buried in my neck and hair, his breath - finally slowing and warm on my skin. We both just sat still, our breathing slowing down together and yet neither of us letting go.

I didn't want to speak. I didn't want to break what was happening between us because if I did - I knew he'd leave. We’d be done for good.

Until he showed up...I'd had this false hope that I hadn't even recognized. Like I thought I could go right back and pick up where I left. I'd been a selfish fool.

And I was so afraid he'd see me for what I was. Horrible. Undeserving. Not worth it.

I just inhaled the air around us. That scent that had drawn me into him so long ago. It still possessed me. Made me calm. Made me whole. I couldn’t explain it the first time I inhaled it and I still couldn't now.

I couldn't let go. I kept myself wrapped into him. One hand stayed tangled in his shirt while my other fingers loosened their grip and found their way to his hair. I wanted to feel him… to know it was real that he was here. My fingers laced into the thickness of his hair, pulling his head closer to my own, finding their way to touch his skin...the nape of his neck...behind his ear...his cheek… I couldn't say anything that felt worthy of his forgiveness. I just wanted him to stay.

“I…,” I began, in a whisper into his shirt, taking a deep breath from his own air to carry me as I tried to word what was coursing through me, “I was afraid.” He flinched. I let my hand fall from his cheek into my lap and I tried to not give into my worst fears…

“I was wrong. I don't feel like...I have never felt like I deserved you. And I don't know how,” my tears choked in my voice again, hoarse now from all of it, “I wanted all of it. All of you.” My hand found its way to the rings around my neck and twisted them as if they would spill out the words for me, “I just didn't know how…you never gave me a reason to not trust you but everything inside me told me I didn't deserve any of it...and,” the words poured out that had been stuck in my mouth for the last three years, “I have always wanted to be your wife,” his arms tightened around me, “But I didn't know how you could want me.”

I shut up. I deserved no more of his patience and I didn't want to anger him no matter how much I deserved it. He had every right to push me away and get up and leave. And I would never have blamed him if he chose to. This was all my doing. This was all my fault.

I buried myself into him and ignored the voice that told me I deserved to be left. I just breathed. I ignored it and breathed. His scent still entranced me. I know I would never feel at home away from him. And I may never have him this close again. I just needed to breathe.

--------------------------

I grew still as she spoke. Exhausted and drained.

When she said she was afraid, I couldn’t help it. I flinched. I thought at first she was afraid of me. That she was telling me I was the monster I feared I might be. But…..it wasn’t me she was afraid of. It was herself. I don’t know why or how she learned to feel that way, but I knew that it wasn’t something I could fix. None of this was. No matter how much I wanted to. No matter how much I loved her.

When her words were spent and she fell silent except for her ragged breathing, I kissed her forehead lightly. The air around us felt so fragile. I was afraid to break it.

The hard floor was pressing against me relentlessly. I needed to move. I slowly and carefully scooped her up, her face still buried in my chest, and moved us to the sofa. I sat heavily with her cradled in my lap, my arms around her. I wasn’t even sure if she was aware we had gotten up.

“Evelin.” My voice was low. My cheek resting against the top of her head. “I can't do this. I can't make everything better. Nothing I say or do is likely to change your mind about how you feel. I don't have that kinda power.”

“When you first met me, I was like a stray animal you nursed back to health. And you did. You helped me accept my nature. But then….,” I stroked her back. I couldn't tell if she was asleep or just breathing deeply to stop from breaking further. “Then when I was no longer that injured stray. When I was just a guy who happened to be a shifter falling in love with you. I don't think you knew what to do with me.”

I exhaled softly and squeezed my eyes shut briefly. “I’m not blaming you, Evey. Neither of us did anything wrong. There's obviously stuff you brought with you that lived with us. Stuff I couldn't see. Stuff I don't know about. Stuff that followed you here. I guess it got in the way of us being like other couples. When I proposed….,” my voice trailed off. Did anything I said make sense?

---------------

“I was just a guy who happened to be a shifter falling in love with you.”

“I don't think you knew what to do with me.”

For the longest time, I’d been the strong one for him. He was right.

I pulled my legs in tightly to my chest and leaned closer into his arms. I waited for him to say anything else…

“When I proposed….”

I never faltered in my devotion to who Darius was. I just didn’t want to be the one to ruin him.

“I was afraid,” I sniffed, then found my voice a bit better, “I was afraid I would ruin you...us. Who you are was always there.” I spoke up firmly for the first time, “You were never a ‘stray’ to me. Never.” I let myself rest a moment, the tension in my shoulders fell. His head grew heavy on mine and I relished in how close he was…

“That ‘stuff’,” I forced my shoulders back down as they crept up tightly, “I didn’t see it either. And, no, you can’t make it better. I don’t expect you to.” breathe…

“Once we, once you were ‘better’ - and I never saw you as needing to be better - but once you felt ‘better’, then it all came up,” my fingers found his shirt again and tightened into it. “I ran away because...that’s what I’ve always done. And,” I used his shirt to wipe my eyes, no more tears, but sore and tired, “If not for…” the lump was back in my throat. I had to tell him. He must already know. Clea. Of course. “If Jonathan hadn’t stopped me, I would have...I would have run from all of it for the last time.” He suddenly felt like rigid stone beneath me. If he’d have let me, if his grip around me had loosened, I’d have moved out of fear of whatever I was doing to him. But I couldn’t. He wasn’t letting me go.

“It’s all out there now, Darius. I can see it. It’s horrifying and hurtful and it eats at me and…” breathe… “and I, I just see it now. And I don’t know. Seeing it makes it real and being real makes it seem like...something I can fight back against. I know you can’t make it better. You can’t change my mind, Darius. I know that. I couldn’t change yours...you did that.” I didn’t know where this was coming from...but clarity hit me like a brick, no, clarity had lifted a ton of bricks off of me. “None of what I felt was my fault - just like your own...abuse - none of it was ever our fault. Do you understand that for yourself? I didn’t, Darius...I am still getting there...but I can see now that none of it was because of me. And I should never have had to figure out any of this anymore than you should have had to for yourself...but I am...I will.”

My shoulders were back down, relaxed. He was less so, but also less rigid.

“I don’t know what to tell you that you don’t already know at this point. I never stopped loving you,” I rested my face against his chest and rubbed my cheek against him naturally, inhaling him ...marking him. “I don’t know why you’re here,” I said it...he would answer and leave...I fought against what felt like the truth I deserved when I hoped for more... “but you are. And...I’m a mess. And I don’t know what’s ahead.” I needed to shut up. “But I still love you.”

---------------------

I didn’t want to hear her say it, but she did. She admitted her attempt. Maybe I needed to hear it.

I felt helpless. She was weighed down by so much. Just...so much.

She didn’t know why I was here. That at least was something I could work with. Even if she didn’t like the answer.

“I’m here because I needed to see you for myself. To see why Clea had such a haunted look in her eyes before she collapsed on me.” She stiffened at the mention of Clea, but I expected that. “To see if what she told Garett and what Garett told me was true.” I cleared my throat. “Which you already admitted.”

“I didn’t come here to take you back or to reconcile. I do love you, Evey. I’m just not sure where we go from here in light of...everything really. We can’t go right back to where we left off. We’re not the same people. So much has changed. That doesn’t mean we can’t get there eventually. This isn’t the end for us. I promise.”

----------------------

His words sunk in me like a weight I couldn’t lift.

For all the holding, I suddenly felt very alone. He was right, of course. I mean, what was I expecting? I suppose...there was this part of me that held on to what had been. But “We’re not the same people. So much has changed…” He was right.

I wasn’t the strong one. I was fighting, but it was him now who had the most strength.

I believed his promise. I forced myself and believed it. All the voices inside of me repeated what I had learned ...promises are just good intentions...and good intentions are lies we tell ourselves to not feel guilty. But I needed to believe him. And god I wanted to. But the warmth I thought I’d carried...the hope...felt like it was sinking and taking me with it. And I wanted so badly to stay above that flood...I had only just tasted air, I can’t drown now…

I didn’t feel anything that night. Which is why I wanted it to end.

Now...I felt everything. Which is why I was so afraid it would.

“I understand.” ...hollow.

but… he loves me. Listen he said it. He said it.

“You love me?” ...words to my greatest fear. You have to believe him.

I wanted so badly to just feel warm again. The shivering wasn’t because I was cold. “I have never felt this close to losing everything even in all the time I was gone.” Reality was intruding like a violent wind. “I never expected you to wait. I didn’t expect...anything. I hoped. I mean,” my voice betrayed what my body was certainly already making clear, “I hoped. I believe you. I’m trying so hard to believe you. I just...I don’t know how to fix any of this. And I’m so sorry I ruined it.” Still shaking, I reached up, lifted the rings from around my neck and peeled open his hand after holding it so tightly. I dropped them in his hand. “I don’t know if I should still have these.” I bit back tears I didn’t want to have, “I still want them. I have always wanted them. There was never a ‘no’...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” and there were my tears again. Why couldn’t I just be? Why did I have to be so stupid and difficult? “But I shouldn’t have them unless...no, until the offer is still there. It’s not the end, I know. But I can’t hold you to something that isn’t the same offer. My answer was ‘yes’. It would still be ‘yes’. But...it’s not fair for me to pretend the question still stands.”

I was going to throw up.

-----------------

“Evey, let me tell you a story. Humor me.” I set the rings aside and focused on her. She was already pulling away, but I wasn't ready to let her go. Not by a long shot. I shifted until her back was against my chest. My arms around her to let her know I was there, but not so tight that she was trapped.

“Once upon a time a few years ago, a girl became a boy's whole world. He was too naive to wonder if she wanted marriage and a family. He was going through stages he should have hit in high school. Everything was new to him. It was kinda new to her, too. They were a little backward,” I grinned as I rested my cheek against her hair.

“At least they were together. That was probably more than a lot of people had. He worried that he was supposed to get down on one knee and propose, but he wasn't sure. They were making up their own steps up as they went along. Moving in together made logical sense and felt like a really good idea. So they did.”

I wasn't sure if she could “hear” what I was trying to say. “We never did the things we were supposed to in the order they were supposed to be in, Evelin. This isn't that much different. We are not like anyone else. Just like we did back then, we’ll make up our own steps, ok? Our own music. Our own dance. You just need some time to figure things out. To learn who Evey is now.”

----------------

“This isn't that much different. We are not like anyone else.”

His chest felt solid against me as he held my weight. After everything had finally fallen out of me, he held me up. I was less than I was before, but more than I think I ever was...and that didn't need to make sense to anyone but me. And it did.

I let my weight fall into him. He was calmer just as I was. Everything was out there now. Nothing hidden. No pretense. No assumption. And, I think, it felt like we didn't...maybe we didn't need each other.

“...we’ll make up our own steps, ok? Our own music. Our own dance.”

Maybe we didn't need each other anymore, but maybe for once we could just want each other.

“I'm not sure where to start,” I said, softly as I let my hand slip into his. “I've said everything I -” I bit my lip, considering my words carefully, and graciously, still holding my hand, he said, “I'm listening.” “I think I've said, I mean everything is out there now. You know everything,” I continued still cautiously thinking through each word as his finger traced along my arm. “We made up our own steps before because neither of us had ever done any of this before. I'd never been in love before either.” I could feel his quiet smile as his cheek rested against me. “Yeah, I do need to figure some things out. I have some things to work out that I don't expect you -or Clea, or Jonathan, or anyone else- to fix. But I feel just like...by just saying that out loud I feel like I'm already starting to do that. I'm not hiding from that part of me anymore.”

He didn't say anything to that. He just sat there holding on, not letting me go, just letting me rest in him.

“This house isn't ‘home’ for me,” I said, sort of just thinking aloud at this point. “But Jonathan’s giving me time to figure all that out. I'm in no rush. For once. And honestly, that's such a strange place to be. I've always felt like I had to have a plan - or an escape. And for once I don't. And that's honestly the calmest certainty I've had in my life - apart from our time together, apart from you. So, I'm with you; I don't know what order we do anything in.”

I looked up at him, he seemed content with that answer. I smiled and answered his silence, “Yeah. Exactly.”

He'd given me everything I needed to trust him. Then and now. I twisted myself until I was resting against him with my cheek against his chest and my nose nestled just under his neck. The safest place. The calmest place. I didn't need to slow my breathing at this point. It just did. “I know what I want. I want this. I have always wanted this,” I shook my head slightly at my own words. “I just didn't know how,” I smiled slightly, for the first time since everything transpired, “and I am probably...no, I am certainly...backwards. But...if you still want to make up the steps as we go along, I would be grateful for the chance to try.”

-----------------

“ I mean everything is out there now. You know everything.”

I didn’t though. Not really. I had no idea what it was in her past that drove her to this dark place. That drove her to run from everything and everyone all the time. I mean she was acknowledging that there was a problem and that she was ready to deal with it. I was all for that and would support her in any way I could.

Now wasn’t the time or the place to push her on it or probe any deeper. I wasn’t a religious person by any means. No real experience with organized religion, but it seemed if anything right now was a perfect time for this at least. I closed my eyes and mentally repeated lines I’d heard more than a few times.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

“Nothing wrong with second, third or fourth chances, Evey. Maybe you need some of your own stuff to make this place seem more...comfortable? Your bosses let me stay for way longer than they should have. We packed up all your stuff you left behind and moved it into a storage place. They’re paying for it. I’m sure they’d be happy to hear from you. Send some of your things even.”

I lightly stroked her back in time with her breathing. Slow and steady. “I was gonna suggest I return George to you, but I think I heard a dog? Not sure how happy he’d be with one living here. He and I moved back into my old place.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. “I come down here from time to time with work now. So if you need anything dropped off, I can do it. No problem.”

---------------------

“That’s Sully, Mio’s dog.” I hadn’t heard him in a while, Jonathan must have taken him out for a walk. I appreciated the privacy. “I’m glad George is with you. I think he should stay with you. I don’t have anything permanent yet myself - and he’s probably at home with you.” I was thinking through my options - something I hadn’t done much of until recently because I hadn’t had any to think through, or at least, I hadn’t given myself any.

“I think what’s best for me at this point is to be nearer to people I know. Who know me - even if it’s been a while. People I trust,” I said, looking up and catching his eye. “I have work here I can keep up until I figure things out, but I’m going to reach out to Ken and Tony and see if any of the apartments they have are available. If they have my things, I know they’ll be glad I finally reached out.” Unfortunately I think they were almost used to me popping in and out like this...at least I didn’t have many things to store. “They’ve made it clear I always have a place to stay with them - and work. So, I’m not really worried about my options. At this point it’s just figuring out what I actually want and when…” I trailed off in thought. I knew what I wanted. My fears at this point were how welcome I’d be back in Bon Temps. Just because people care for you doesn’t mean they necessarily are ready to have you around more. I knew that as well as anyone else. I’ve loved people who I couldn’t stand to have around.

“I’m going to discuss it with Jonathan. I’ve appreciated his advice since being here - he’s objective. That’s so helpful. But I need to be ‘home’, and...I haven’t had that since, well, a long time.” He sighed and I couldn’t tell if he was growing tired, just relaxed, or if there was anything else there behind it. “Darius, you made it clear we have time. I have time, I mean...us. That there’s a chance. But…” I tried reading him. It’d been so long. It was hard to tell how he was responding to me. And he was right, he was a different man. My brain and heart were in a struggle over wanting to know what he wanted from all of this...and not wanting to push out of my own selfishness. I had so much to learn. “What I’m getting at is...what do you want? I’m not looking for something in stone. I don’t mean it like that. I just want to be clear so I’m not pushing you or in the way...if I did come back.”

-------------------------

What was Mio’s dog doing here?

“George has only recently stopped looking for you. But he’s welcome to stay with me until you’re ready for him.” I wasn’t sure what I expected when I drove here. Not after talking to Garett. I guess I knew...or at least hoped she’d eventually come back to Bon Temps. If she didn’t say goodbye for good and leave all of us behind one last time. I never really thought about when this would happen. I didn’t think when I came here actually. I just drove.

What do you want?

What did I want? “What do I want? That’s a really good question. I’m not sure I have an answer. At least not a clear cut one. I want you to get healthier. Physically,” I took her hand and placed it on her side where I could feel her ribs, “and emotionally. I’m not sure what that looks like or means or how. But that’s what I want most of all.” My thoughts were a bit of a jumble in my head.

“I’m not ready to live together again. Not yet. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to come back to Bon Temps. I just think we both kinda need to have our own space while we start figuring things out together.”

If this was going to work between us, I needed to be perfectly honest with her. With myself. Not sugar coat things or tell her what I thought she needed to hear. “It’s not if you come back, Evey. It’s when. You do need to be around people who know you and care about you. I’m not sure you’ll ever feel….not alone...until you do. I figure it might be why you’re here with this guy Jonathan and not at your own place.”

I reached for the rings and turned them over in my hand above her lap. “Maybe….maybe you should keep these. Wear them on the ribbon. Kinda like a reminder that I’m still here. Something physical you can touch and see if you need to, and I’m not around. Even when you move back, I still have responsibilities down here. Clea has family down here. So one or both of us might not always be around.” She seemed to think about that, but made no move to touch the rings. “Please? It would make me feel better knowing you still have them.”

---------------------------

He understood - thankfully - that I needed to be near people who cared, but that I needed to figure some things out for myself. We'd made our own steps before - and this was one we needed, both needed, now.

Breathe

I took the rings from his hand, they were warm just from his holding them a moment. I wish I knew what this step was, but whatever it was, I wasn’t ready for it. Not like this. He wanted me to have them. To remember him when he wasn’t around. Something to hold on to when I didn't have him or Clea, and I understood what he meant, but I wondered if he knew the memories I attached to them. I don't think I could ever see them as anything less than what he had offered them to be from the beginning. And wearing them that way now felt like less. I didn't want them as just a reminder of him.

“I have never not wanted these, Darius,” I said as I placed them back in his hand and closed his hand around them. “And I will want them - still want them - again.” A part of me couldn't believe what I was doing in the moment, but a larger part of me knew it was what I wanted. “But I don't want to wear them around my neck as a reminder of you. They could never be less than what they were to me and that's how that would feel. I haven't worn them on my hand because I had never given you the benefit of a real answer. I have been wearing them as a touchstone to you - to us - but I’ve just been walking around with a question hanging from my neck and I don't want feel that way any longer,” I paused, trying to read him...but I couldn't. “And I can't lie and pretend that's not how you didn't walk around for a long time after I left. And I'm sorry - I will always be sorry for that.” He still had his hand against my back, still stroking, softly...I took that as a good sign. At least, I needed to. “But I don't want our rings back until you - and if you - want me to wear them as you did the day you first offered them to me. I'm taking a chance I may not get them back. I know that. But I don't want them any less than how you intended them for us. And I’m leaving that to you, on your terms, your time.”

I let out a long breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding in. He was right. I needed to be in a healthier place. I was starting towards it. And I didn't want us in some sort of limbo while we both waited for whatever that would look like. I needed to get to know him as the man he is today. And I needed to get to know myself. We needed to learn one another again.

“Please understand I'm not saying no to you. I'm trying to say ‘yes’...I want to say ‘yes’, but I want us to have a fresh start. I'm giving myself that. That's all I'm asking for right now from you. I love you. I still feel completely bound to you; I can't undo that. I am praying my saying all this doesn't push you away - if anything I hope it lets you know I'm taking you being here, right now, very seriously,” I leaned back against his chest again, listening for his heartbeat to see if I could gather if he was as calm on the inside as he was letting me read he was on the outside. But I couldn't tell. His warmth was enough for now and I rubbed my cheek against him. I'd take what I could get - I deeply loved him. I knew that more than anything now. I wasn't going to screw this up again. Not for either of us. I just hoped I wasn't going to lose whatever this was now.

We both deserved to love one another as deeply as we wanted to - without any sense of obligation to whatever we had once been. I loved him - us - too much for either of us to settle for less.

How strange it is when you start to realize you have value despite what you believed...and that because you do, you don't want to burden anyone with the need to affirm your worth. You only want to share their love.

That's what I wanted from him. To share his love, his life, all of it. If he offered it - in time - I wanted it. But I wasn't going to force the offer or let him think I expected it regardless of everything that transpired. And I definitely wasn't going to let it stay on the table between us.

#serenity

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hamil-tonn-of-trash · 7 years

Text

Until Dawn Hamilcast AU

Prompt: This is based off of the video game Until Dawn but with a couple things tweaked around. So basically Renee goes missing while the Hamilcast is on a camping trip in the mountains.

Warning: LOTS OF PAIN. Cursing maybe???? Slight smut. (Again it’s based off the game so it wasn’t my idea.

Word count: 1918

Oh also I ship Oak X Jonathan I don’t know why but it’s cute.

(Each new character for example – or ** represents a new narrative)

The crisp, delicate snowflakes landed on Daveed’s eyelashes as he searched the woods for flammable wooden branches for the fire. He dazed off distantly, remembering when Lin made the announcement about this anticipated camping trip two months ago.

“Run away with us for the winter let’s go upstate!” Lin had exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Don’t we have shows year round?” Anthony called out, confused echoed murmurs followed his questions.

“We have cancelled shows for that week because of winter holidays and stuff.” Andy piped up. “This is just going to be for the actors to reward you for your hard work. As for the rest of us! We are going to go on a stargazing tour in Vermont!” Some of the cast members muttered in confusion for a little bit.

“Of course it’s not required, just for fun I mean if you have family stuff going on you don’t have to come.” Lin confirmed, suddenly calming everyone down. An image of a jagged edge of a cliff flashed before his eyes. Leaving him speechless.

Two months later, there was quite a large turn out on the camping trip at the Adirondack mountains. With five tents and seventeen people staying it was more than originally expected. Thayne nudged Daveed on the shoulder to snap him back into reality.

“You were staring out in space for like two minutes. Are you okay man?” Thayne questioned half jokingly half concerned.

“It’s all cool brother.” Daveed laughed as he refocused on the task.

The snow started to pile up as Daveed’s boots as he trudged through the growing layers of ice. Renee emerged from the sea of trees with a handful of branches and sticks in her hand. She dropped them into the plastic firewood bag nearby and Daveed searched around for fuel for the campfire. When Daveed returned Renee had finished piling her collection of wood into the bag. When he turned his back away from her to pick up a spare stick the second he looked back she wasn’t there. Thayne returned and scanned the abandoned woods for Renee.

“Where did she go?” Thayne scratched his head with a confused look plastered on his face.

“I don’t know.” Daveed paused for a moment then continued. “She was here and then I turned my back to her and she just…disappeared. I’m sure she’ll be back.”

So both of them waited. In the frosty, quiet air with intricately designed snowflakes floating down from the heavens, only the sounds of the two of them breathing could be heard. Thayne checked his watch.

“It’s been seven minutes. Maybe we should look around.”

So they split up, seeking Renee’s burgundy jacket in the glowing moonlight with only a flashlight and a bag of sticks. The eerie silence of the woods had no clues as to where she vanished to.

“Renee?” Daveed hollered. Silence. He shined his flashlight on a pile of sticks and a black beanie lying on the ground. “Thayne! I found her beanie!”

He came trotting over to the isolated spot to examine the evidence. “She must’ve dropped this.” Thayne scooped the items off the ground.

“The snow isn’t deep enough to leave footprints so let’s head back and get some help to look for her.” Daveed advised calmly.

“You’re right.” Thayne concluded as they headed towards the gray smoke that was filling the night sky.

——————————-

The blazing, dancing scarlet flames reflected in Pippa’s eyes as she sang campfire songs with her favorite group of people. She felt content and fuzzy inside when she was around her second family.

“I may not live to see our glory!” Lin sang as people around the circle all chuckled at the reference.

“But I will gladly join the fight!” Lin’s voice rang out coarsely because he’s chatty and sings jingles he just comes up with day and night. Perfectly harmonizing, they finished:

“They’ll tell the story of toniiiighhhttt!”

The group laughed and hugged the nearby person to make sure that each and every cast member was appreciated and loved. Pippa hugged Leslie for a weirdly long period of time but neither of them minded. Across the circle Jasmine and Anthony were cuddling and Jonathan and Oak were hitting each other with their jackets until Seth warned them that if they didn’t stop their jackets would catch on fire.

“Who’s up for s'mores?!” Stephanie called out, ecstatic.

“WHERE?!” Jonathan howled.

“AGHHHHHHH!!!!!” Oak screeched in a strangely high voice for him anyway.

“Geniuses lower your voices, people are SLEEPING!” Pippa replied, rolling her eyes playfully at the noisy yowls for a midnight snack.

“So…? Is that a yes?” Stephanie questioned, eyeing everyone around the circle, anticipating an answer.

“Yes!!” The majority of the crowd agreed in majority.

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

“Well, I think Anthony and I are going to bed now. Good night!” Jasmine replied, grinning at Anthony. Cast members hugged and kissed them both goodnight as the young couple set off for their tent, their energy still high. Jasmine could hear hidden snickers behind her. The rocky trail was difficult to climb so Anthony took Jasmine’s hand to steady himself. Once they reached their tent and unzipped it Jasmine set her lantern down, illuminating the tent with dimly lit with candlelight. Distant screams could be heard in the distance. Jasmine crawled inside and Anthony closely followed and she turned to face him and he instinctively reached for her face and pulled her into a passionate, lengthy kiss. Sinking into the embrace, Anthony slowly led her down onto the sleeping bag, wrapped his hands on the inside of her thighs and ended the kiss, his face only within inches of hers.

“How about we both strip down to our socks?” He growled playfully in his Philip voice.

Jasmine laughed at his remark and responded, “I would, but it’s like below freezing outside.”

“Okay…” Anthony replied and gave her a knowing look. Jasmine felt her insides about to explode, his dark, kind eyes gleaming in the faint light and his hands moving closer to her crotch as she let out a small moan. Anthony used his free hand to move away her jackets upon jackets upon shirts that were covering her neck and sucked a trail of kisses down her neck. Anthony felt the want, the need for the girl he loved even though it probably wasn’t the best time because people were sleeping in the tent right next to them.

He worked on getting his belt off and slowly slid his jeans down his legs while Jasmine gave him multiple soft kisses on his cheeks when he could hear faraway yells becoming louder and louder. He came to a sudden stop.

“What’s wrong?” Jasmine asked in an alarmed tone. She sat up.

Immediately, they both recognized that it was Lin’s voice yelling panicked screams to wake everyone up.

“Renee has gone missing! Wake up! Wake up!” His feet were trailing through the snow covered dirt path. They shot each other concerned looks and Anthony swiftly pulled his pants up and readjusted his belt to go on a search party for their lost friend. A million worried thoughts raced through Jasmine’s head:

“Did she get eaten by a bear?!”

“Did she get lost miles away?!”

Her pulse hiked up so much in such a small period of time she felt like she was going to have a heart attack.

Jasmine grabbed the lantern and headed outside. The freezing air stung Jasmine’s eyes as tears dribbled down her face, Anthony glanced at her distressed face with the same uneasiness and swiped the tears away with his finger. Hand in hand, they ran towards Lin and the growing crowd of people.

“What happened?” Anthony demanded.

“She was collecting fire wood with us and Daveed looked away and suddenly she was gone and then we found her beanie and later we heard her scream.” Thayne sniffled.

“We should call the cops!! She could be in serious danger!” Phillipa sobbed into her hands.

Jonathan turned to Phillipa and looked her straight in the eye. “The cell towers don’t work, I tried calling my mom a couple hours ago…no service. Remember that Chris and Vanessa will come in the morning.“

Still sobbing, Phillipa nodded her head and turned to face the group.

“What should we do then?” Ariana asked, wearing a winter coat over her bunny pajamas.

“I’m sure we can find her, if there’s an emergency we can use the radio tower to contact 911.” Carleigh suggested with a shaky voice.

“Okay so now we need to split up into two groups. One can handle north and east directions and the other can handle south and west directions go!” Jasmine took charge, a natural leader.

Two groups formed. The first consisting of Lin, Oak, Jonathan, Jasmine, Anthony, Ariana, Javier and Carleigh. The second with Leslie, Daveed, Pippa, Stephanie, Seth, Thayne and Jon. Jasmine recounted and realized they were missing someone.

“Where’s Sasha guys?” Jasmine asked with confusion.

“Oh…she wouldn’t wake up she sleeps like a rock.” Carleigh yelled out with irritation.

“Well we don’t want her to go missing but if she won’t wake up…” Stephanie trailed off.

“It’s fine. We just need to find Renee now.” Jon confirmed as the search parties split up to find Renee.

*************************

Jasmine put Daveed in charge of the second search party which Leslie thought was a good idea because Daveed seemed like the type of guy who could handle extreme situations. Also he was the last person to see Renee. With only a flashlight in his hand, Leslie was determined to find Renee as was every one else. Dragging his feet through the heavy snow, and shining his light in every direction Leslie was on the verge of tears. To lighten up the mood Jon cracked a couple (not funny) jokes here and there that everybody forcibly laughed at just to ease the tense air. After about twenty five minutes of searching southward something caught Leslie’s eye. A elaborately carved scarlet tiki looking doll lay on the ground face down. Out of excitement for a clue after a mile of walking Leslie picked it up and turned it around and an incredibly radiant light blinded his sight until he saw a vivid memory if that’s what you wanted to call it.

A dazzling blade sliced through somebody’s left cheek and they groaned and stepped back

“Ah! Help me!” A deep, defined voice called out. Leslie recognized that voice. A voice that he argued with every night for the last year. It was Lin-Manuel. The vision ended and Leslie was transported back into reality, dumbfounded. Setting the doll back down he couldn’t let any words out as a warning so he jogged to catch up to the group.

“Slowpoke!” Seth teased, nudging Leslie on the shoulder. “You look like you saw a ghost.” Leslie really wanted to tell Seth about the vision and the ticki doll but some weird calm came over him, causing him to not worry about it. Strange.

For another ten minutes they walked in awkward silence until Daveed stopped right in his tracks and kneeled down and the rest of the group scurried over Daveed’s shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of what he had found. Leslie, standing in the back had no view whatsoever but still stood on his tippy toes to see better.

“It’s a note, it says “Renee is safe…for now.” Daveed concluded in a hushed, flighty tone.

Leslie felt his tears finally fall down his face in panic.

#brandy's fan fic #until dawn #Hamilton

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