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ultralightpoe · 16 days

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Music To My Ears - Steve Rogers

Authors Note: A draft from July 2023 -Enjoy!

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 4880

Requests: OPEN

Description: In which you and Steve are connected through music.

Main Master List -

(Thank you for the gif @prettyboy-parker )

x Enjoy! x

Songbirds: When soulmates can hear each others music.

It had always been a bit of a sore wound for Steve growing up, the lack of music in his head. It concerned him and tore him up inside whenever the conversation was brought up, which it so often was.

His mother asked him about it everyday, excitement sparking in her eyes whenever Steve lied and said he heard a song. She would make sure to put it in the record player if they owned the vinyl, if not she would turn up the radio whenever it played. She always smiled and giggled at him, it gutted Steve to know he was lying to her.

The doctor always said that soulmates often try to communicate through music, and tried to work with him to recognize a message, but Steve did not need it since he knew the person didn’t exist.

He didn’t have a soulmate. The thought crushed him.

Bucky often joked about it when Steve finally came clean, saying that his soulmate was probably deaf and that Steve had to have one. This made him feel a little better and a new image emerged, maybe if they were deaf the only way they can listen to music was through him.

How could he deny his soulmate the taste of music?

So he listened to anything and everything he could.

He wore down vinyl after vinyl and when he wasn’t blaring the music he was humming it until he fell asleep.

He hummed to himself before he lost Bucky, he hummed to himself the day the ship he was flying crashed.

“If you’re real or you’re out there then I am so sorry for this.” He whispers, right as a loud crash sounds out and he is submerged within the depths of the water.

He would not be found for another 70 years, it would take 60 hours to dethaw him properly and stabilize his vitals. He would be asleep for another 6 days after that as doctors and nurses poured over his file over and over and over.

But that wasn’t the weirdest thing, no. The weirdest thing happened the day a nurse ran through the halls, her face red and splotchy as she summoned the doctor who followed closely. She tried explaining as much as she could as the doctor read through his file once more.

“This doesn’t make sense… it says he had a soulmate. He had confirmed it years ago.” The doctor mutters, reading the paragraph again.

“Tests were different then, right. They weren’t as advanced as ours.” The nurse tries, moving closer to the man unfrozen.

“I don’t get how this is possible….” The doctor mutters one more time as he blinks at the soldier.

Because Steve Rogers, still asleep from his time in the ice, was humming the tune to a song that had come out that very year.

(It’s 2012. I was imagining want u back by cher Lloyd but your music your choice birdies).

Growing up without any sound in your head while other kids were constantly bragging about theirs made you a bit angry growing up. The song time that your schools enforced, that you knew would never be sent to anyone else out there and made you grind your teeth in anger.

The tests you submitted to monthly, as everyone did, always just made it worse. When they put the metal sticks on your forehead, typing away at their computer as the sound waves to your brain showed up on the screen. They would play music on your end to make sure that it was working, your side always lighting up a light blue color flowers blooming and spreading across the screen. Well they looked like flowers but you knew they weren’t.

But when they turned off the music and did the ringing sound to try and signal your soulmate to answer back nothing came. Not a single thing came.

The screen always remained blank. Each. Time.

You learned to get used to it growing up, at some point the pain and anger ebbed into a phantom limb and you learned to move past. When your friends all found their mates you smiled and attended their weddings, always clapping when they danced to their first song that they found eachother with and sometimes if you were a little too into the drinks you let yourself imagine a life of your own. If you would have a deep song that you could slow dance to on your special night.

But when reality came crashing down it was right back to misery and you always hated the sickening feeling of realization so you tried to fight off those little daydreams. The ups were not worth the downs.

You listened to your own music, branched into hundreds of different genres and played the music so loud you could ignore the rest of the world.

But you were still subjected to the tests, every single month.

Like right now, with the metal readers strapped to your forehead as you sat back in the chair trying not to get agitated by the doctors pitying glance.

“It is good to see you again dear.” He smiles, sliding his stool over to his computer and typing something in. “I look forward to your fun jokes every month.”

“You mean my sarcastic wit that my mother says protects my feelings?” You bite out with a roll of your eyes, looking around the room.

“Ah. Yes. That.” He chuckles. “Alright, you know the process. We’re going to play some music on your end, to make sure the system is working. Then we’ll play the ringing at a frequency to try and rouse your soulmate into playing something back.”

“Just do it.” You snap, letting him press play on the music and turning to see the blue engulf the screen just as it always does. Then it stops and he plays a ringing, it makes your ears hurt as you close your eyes.

Even when he turns it off you can still hear them, like a fire alarm.

But once again. Nothing.

“Alright. Thank you for coming in today. It was wonderful to see you.” Your doctor smiles, and you leave once again feeling that dreaded disappointment.

But you don’t let it get to you, instead you head home and blast the loudest song you can when you make dinner in attempt to ignore the emptiness in your mind.

Maybe if you had kept the music down you might have heard the smallest humming in the back of your mind, an old tune answering the ringing.

A week after they first hear humming they decide they would do the updated soulmate test on the captain with dozens of people that were alive back then strapped to their own testing machines to see if any answered back.

“Alright. It’s all set up. Let’s take a step back and read the vitals.” Doctor Chen orders, making everyone step back as she heads to her computer. After typing a couple codes his brain waves fill the screen, and a moment later she starts playing music to make sure it works.

Blue clouds fill the screen, blossoming quickly at the sound before she shuts the music down, and then a second later ringing sounds and his brain waves crash in displeasure, sliding down and a black filling the screen as they watch slowly.

“Good reaction time for someone who had been frozen last week.” She murmurs which makes he nurse next to her laugh, but then after a moment it happens.

The screen that had gone blank at the silence blossoms with blues and greens as whoever is on the other end plays him something back, everyone staring slack jawed at the screen.

“Holy shit.” Someone murmurs.

“His soulmate is still alive.” Chen smiles, watching the screen.

It happened during work, while you were sorting through files needed for the next meeting, Stark tower empty in this section. It would fill up soon, officials and your bosses would file in within the next 30 minutes and you would be thrown into the chaos of the day.

So for now you were excited for the quiet of the building, breathing in as you set of the conference room with the correct lighting, water, pens and -

The music was so faint you almost didn’t hear it, like a staticky connection that was close to breaking at the slightest notch. You drop everything you had been holding and nearly fall to the ground on shaky knees. Your breath falling into ragged pants.

It takes a moment then it’s gone and you try to relax. It was just you. You’re tricking yourself.

And so you pick yourself up, shaky hands and shaky knees as you wipe the tears that had somehow began falling, moving to pick up your mess before the ringing began and you fall once more.

It’s the first time you had ever heard the ringing from their end and it hurt even more than you would have thought.

It travels down your spine as it traps itself in your head, ringing and ringing and ringing.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Someone calls, hands on your shoulders dragging your attention to the other assistant that worked alongside you.

“Ringing.” You gasp, hands clenched into fists as it finally stops, black spots filling your vision. “It’s so loud.”

“Yeah. It’s uncomfortable on the other end…. Have you never heard it before?” She laughs, moving to grab your phone, her face blanching when you shake your head. “Oh my god. You’ve never heard the ringing! That’s insane!”

You’re confused when she hands you the phone, giving her an incredulous look before she explains. “You have to play music back. The ringing is a call.”

“Right,” you nod, shaking as you grab your phone and pulling it close to pick a song, pressing anything random just to get it over with. You were too confused to process anything. You had never heard this, why now? How old was your soulmate? Oh my god was your soulmate super young? Were you a nasty cougar?

You were gonna vomit.

“I’m sorry, did you play Bee Gees back?” She laughs and you can’t stop a laugh from tearing from your own throat.

Good luck to whoever was on the other end of that.

It was a one off, something you couldn’t explain.

The doctors didn’t know how to explain it either, no one knew what to say about it.

They all gave you pitying glances and odd looks that just made you hate it so much more. You hated the fact that it happened in the first place.

A branch of hope on a dead tree, it didn’t belong there and you were desperate to tear it down.

So, as punishment for yourself, you stopped listening to music entirely. Your headphones stayed on your desk collecting dust and your office at work played no music at all. You refused it.

“Have you heard the new album?” Your friend calls out from her kitchen, you sat glumly on her couch clutching a glass of wine tightly in annoyance.

“No. You already know I’m not-“

“Listening to music blah blah blah.” She laughs, carrying in a tray of food. “That’s so silly. Come on. You love this band and what happened was weird. But it hasn’t happened since. You’ve heard no other music. Just give in and listen to something.”

“No. Stop pressuring me.” You snap back, shaking your head.

That night when you went to bed you grew more and more frustrated by the old music playing through your head, staticky and driving you nuts. After all this time you were finally going crazy.

You stressed about a soulmate so much that you couldn’t help it.

Steve couldn’t hear the music and it was killing him. He could barely register his own limbs, his body cold and numb, itching to move his fingers. He just wanted to hear the voice that started waking him up in the first place.

The wonderful, alluring voice, he was desperate for them to sing again. Hum. Anything.

Give me something. Anything. Please.

His fingers prick, the needle feeling passing through him as he tries his hardest to move them. Please please please please.

“His vitals are peaking. He might be waking up.” A voice whispers. “Let’s get the room ready.”

Please sing. Or hum. Or play something. Give me a reason to wake up. Please.

Before he knows it there is a radio playing on his side, a game by the sounds of it, and he can’t seem to open his eyes.

Then, louder than it normally was without the static sound, he hears the music in his mind. A soft violin sound, followed by a piano. It takes him a second to recognize the nutcracker, a smile breaking out as he did his best to open his eyes. For the person on the other end he would do this.

His soulmate. He would wake up for his soulmate.

“You can try to send messages.” Doctor Payne smiles, an actual excited smile for you. “Through the music. How long have you been hearing music now?”

“3 weeks.” You answer, nodding numbly. “And it’s like full now, if that makes sense. It’s not staticky. I can actually hear it now.”

“What have they been playing?”

“Old music. Really old music.” You smile. “I’m hoping to god it’s not a kid. The older music is a good sign right?”

You were back for your monthly visit, but this time you were excited.

“Okay. Do you recognize any of the songs?”

“Some. Not enough to get a message from it.”

“Okay. Let’s see.” He moves to type in the codes and your brain waves fill the screen. This time you chose the music, something old, and you get a little nervous.

“D-do we have to do the ringing? It’s louder on their end.” You mumble, body heating. “It hurts.”

“It was your first time experiencing it. That probably made it worse.”

“Yeah; but what about them? Won’t it hurt them as well?”

“Let’s see.” He smiles softly, the music stops. One breath, followed by another, and then the ringing starts and you close your eyes feeling a little guilty.

When it stops it’s silent, and you wait with shaky hands. And just when you think you’ve gone nuts and imagined it all, getting ready to bolt before Dr. Payne sends you to the loony bin.

But the sounds of the nutcracker start playing, and a wide smile spreads across your face.

The very song that you had played a while ago, the first song you listened to after your self inflicted punishment.

“I hear it.” You smile, and your doctor laughs.

“I can tell.” It’s then you look at the screen, seeing a mix of colors blooming along with the blue. Joy sparking in your chest at the new world.

He had rooms in the tower, and a tutor to try and teach him all the updated tech. But the furthest he could get was a flip phone, and that already confused him enough, but he has a radio that plays all the classics for him.

And he had whoever is on the other end of his mind, giving him enough music to listen to while he works out in the gym.

Right now, his wonderful soulmate, was playing something he didn’t recognize but didn’t mind. His blood thrumming as he fixed his leather jacket while trying to figure out his way through the halls.

“Dr. Chen!” He calls when he sees her, making the woman stare at him with wide eyes. “I was told you had done my soulmate testing? You were searching or something?”

He tried to maintain eye contact and be as respectful as he could, but all he could do was nod his head to the music and tap his hand as Dr. Chen smiles smugly at him.

“They playing music right now?” She asks, nodding her head for him to follow her as she makes her way through the halls. “What are they playing?”

“S-something about… living on a prayer?” He smiles, following her into her office as she turns back with a wave of recognition. “You know it?”

“Bon Jovi.” She nods, searching on her computer before turning to him. “The results from the nursing homes came back inconclusive. We tried reaching out to other clinics to see if anyone answered the call. They usually report it to their own doctors for a chance to narrow down the search so whoever you called definitely did not know what to do.”

A wave of guilt fills him at that, making him fidget a bit in his seat as the song changes to another upbeat song.

“Due to the progression of the music we do believe that you are connected to someone in their 20s to 30s.” A breath of relief falls from his lips that makes him feel even worse. He was just happy that his soulmate wasn’t waiting for him for 70 years. “The Taylor swift and Motley Crue mix clued us in on that one.”

“Who?”

“And the nickel back. There is no grandma out there listening to nickel back.” She laughs are her own joke, stopping short when she realizes he’s not laughing.

“Should I be listening to them? Who are they? Is it one person? Nickel?” He rushes out, feeling a little nervous. “Do you think they hate my old style music?”

“I have no idea on that one.” She laughs. “Take a breath. It will all be fine.”

He goes to ask another question before a ringing breaks his concentration, his eyes drifting to the phone on her desk. She rushes to pick it up, mumbling out a response before hanging up.

“They are sending someone down with some papers, but you can ask questions before she gets here.”

“That would be great. What is Nickelback?”

You had been playing music in your office all day, with no response from your soulmate unfortunately. That didn��t matter though, because you were still high and giddy at the fact that you had a soulmate.

But your little concert in your office was cut short when you were sent to hand off ‘top secret’ files to Dr. Chen. You found that everything in this place was top secret.

Right now everyone was freaking out over some science project that you had heard a couple whispers about. Something with ice and a man. Not much to figure out but it’s not like you cared.

You got this job by minding your own business.

And what did it matter anyways? You have a soulmate.

The halls to Stark tower were easy to navigate, and you still were so out of it that you got a little lost towards the end before you found her office, knocking lightly.

“Come in.” She answers and you swing the door, surprised to see a blonde haired man turning to you with big eyes.

The blue of them makes you stop short, a blush crossing your body as you blink before a wave of guilt crashes over you. You had a soulmate and you’re here ogling at this guy?

Come on.

“Sorry to interrupt. You requested these?” You look away, turning to her instead and passing over the files. “Have a good one.”

“Wait! Mr. Rogers here needs to go to the main levels but he might need help getting there. Think you can show him?”

“No problem.” You shrug, nodding at him without making eye contact and waiting for him to get up before leading the way.

Steve follows you through the halls after you introduce yourself, feeling a little guilty at the blush that crosses him when you look at him.

He had been so upset about not having a soulmate for the longest time, and now that he does he is getting flustered over the first beautiful gal he sees? Talk about shooting yourself in the foot.

“So you’re new here?” You ask after a moment of silence, pulling your badge out to get clearance for the elevator.

“Relatively.” He responds, trying not to make eye contact and keeping his voice short. He could not waste time flirting with everyone else when he had a soulmate out there.

“Right.” You mumble, obviously a little put off by the shortness in his tone as the elevator opens and you are both enveloped in with the weird music.

He wonders if his soulmate could hear it, feeling a little silly that they might think he was actually listening to this as you fiddle with your badge awkwardly.

After a moment he breaks the silence, pointing to the speaker. “You think your soulmate hears this music?”

Your eyes light up instantly, and you stand a little straighter. “Maybe. I hope they respond if they can. I love hearing their music back.”

“Me too.” He agrees, feeling something loosen in his chest at the mention of soulmates. “I can only hope they like my music too.”

“I’m sure they do. I’m always so desperate to hear them that I never really care about the music itself more of the fact that it’s playing.” You respond, nodding a bit when the elevator rings. “This is your stop,”

He thanks you, moving to leave quickly. But the further his steps make from you he still hears the elevator music playing, confusion lacing him as his soulmates humming begins to the same elevator tune.

He turns, down the hall, watching as the doors close with you humming inside. Recognition and sparks fly through him as he tries calling out, dashing to the door but it was too late and they were already closed. He tried to press the buttons but without an access badge it was useless.

And in his lame attempt of morality he completely missed your name.

Just his luck.

“You cannot be serious,” you laugh, rubbing your head in frustration as you try to sleep in a little longer. But it was no use, your soulmate was on a mission.

For the past 3 days over the weekend all that had been playing in your head was elevator music, over and over and over.

You assumed that whoever was on the other end took meal breaks because you got at least an hour each day of silence before they were back to it, the sound of it beginning to grate at your nerves. What had you done to deserve this abuse? This was truly incomprehensible.

Anger fills you as you launch from bed, stressed from the lack of sleep and snatch your headphones, digging through your playlist until you find the heaviest rock music you can. Two can play that game soulmate.

“Oh, good morning Mr. Rogers.” Dr. Chen smiles, her eyes bright with shock as she takes in his appearance. This reaction didn’t surprise him, it was the way everyone had been reacting as more and more people found out that Captain America was living in the building.

But this reaction from Dr. Chen was a bit odd considering she knew him by now. “I’m a bit shocked that you are up this early.”

“I usually spend time in the gym.” He rushes out, shrugging. “Can’t shake the military time- hey that person that dropped off the file the other day? Do you remember her- oh my.”

Before he can finish his sentence loud music blasts in his ears, making him cringe a bit. “Oh.”

“Are you okay?” She asks, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Yeah. Just my soulmate playing music I’ve never heard. But enough about that, that girl that came in with the files? You know her?”

“Yes! She’s worked here for awhile. Very nice. You liked her?”

“Well I think she’s my soulmate.” He blushes before launching into the tale.

She looks shocked and like she’s fighting off laughter when he stops. “You’ve been standing in the elevator all weekend? Listening to this music?”

“Yes?”

She laughs loudly before pulling him out of the elevator and walking him to her office. “I can guarantee you are about to have a very cranky soulmate.”

You were aggravated, thoroughly aggravated. At least the elevator music stopped but you had gotten no sleep.

So as you marched to your office just to see multiple messages requesting you to Chens office immediately and you groan loudly, snatching the headphones out of your ears.

Something had to have gone wrong with those files, and you were in no mood to get into trouble over it. Whatever stupid science project they had was beginning to grate on everyone and they were getting angry about it. You can pick up the tension easily.

Your pass allows access to the halls, spine tense as you make your way to her office, knocking lightly before it opens and you see her and the man from the other day standing awkwardly.

“Thank you for coming. It seems we’ve had a change of… situation.” She smiles before his hand shoots out to you and both of you jump back at the force of it.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m Steve.” He blushes, easing himself a bit and relaxing his hand for you to shake once more.

“Rogers…. Your name is Steve Rogers.” You laugh. “How many times do you get asked about Captain America?”

He blinks at you and Chen snorts.

“I actually kind of know a Steven Grant. I haven’t met him in person but he works at a museum that we contact a lot and he’s actually so sweet.” You hush before stopping when you realize they are both staring at you. “Off topic. What’d you call me down here for?”

“I think I’m your soulmate.” He blurts.

“And this is actually Captain America.”

Holy. Shit.

For lack of better words you scram.

After years of begging the universe for a soulmate when you finally come face to face with the possibility of meeting your soulmate, what more was there to do but run?

Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers thought he was your soulmate.

You had so many questions. You had no clue where to run, so you stop short and turn back quickly, dashing back down the hall to run back to the office and you somehow run into him chest to chest sending you sprawling back on the ground.

“Jesus! You brick wall!” You shriek, standing up quickly as he blinks at you with his own panicked look.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to run back!” He rushes out, hands shooting out grab your shoulders in an effort to stabilize you. “I… I have so many questions.”

“Me too.” You blink, a moment of silence passing before you both blurt out a question at the same time.

“What was with the elevator music?”

“What music were you blasting this morning?”

“Nope. No.” Steve calls from somewhere else in the house, pulling your attention to the stairs and waiting to hear him rush for you.

Three years of marriage and you were still finding music he hated, right now that ended up being Cardi B.

You hear his feet on the steps and wait patiently until he comes into the door with a scowl. “Why do you do this?”

His eyebrows are pulled together in frustration as he shuffles closer to turn off the radio, looking around the room in his normal attempt to make sure everything is all safe. Just as he always had, checking every window and exit as a precaution before coming up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up to kiss your lips.

“I liked that song.” You muffle against his lips, smiling cheekily which makes him sigh and pull back from the kiss.

“I could have gone my whole life without knowing what WAP was.” He groans, setting you down with a quick kiss on your forehead before moving to your computer to change the song. You watch closely, moving closer to his desk as he glares down at yours, typing slowly before he hums at his choice.

Even the smallest hum still sounds out in your mind, sending shivers down your spine before the sounds of cheesy elevator music sound out making you laugh.

“No! Please no!” You call, rolling your eyes as he dances closer until he gets to you and lifts you onto his desk so he can slot himself between your thighs.

“It was a great plan!”

“No it wasn’t!”

“I hoped you could recognize the music! I didn’t know your name and I had no access to the building!” He blushes. “I had to beg someone to let me onto the elevator every morning just to do it.”

“You know how long I heard people whispering about you before I actually met you.” You laugh, rubbing at his shoulders. “Now I love you, but if I have to hear one more track of elevator music I will burn this building down.”

He laughs, leaning to kiss you deeply before turning off the music and hauling you to your shared room.

After so many years of waiting for your soulmate it all ended up being with it in the end.

#marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #marvel smut #marvel fluff #marvel angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fandom #steve rogers

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ultralightpoe · 1 month

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Rubies Hidden With Blood -Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: Hello, thank you for the patience while I am on a writing break. I’m still trying to figure out life and how to fix it, but I channeled some of the pain and anger into this and I hope you like it . I hope you are all staying safe and healthy out there in the world - Ultralightpoe

Warnings: mentions of executions, adultery, foul language

Word Count: 4996

MAIN Master List

Description: Inspired by Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth. (INSPIRED. You are not either of them you’re a character inspired by them)

(Thank you for the gif @onemillionyous )

x Enjoy! x

To Anne Boleyn, who spent the last month of her life preparing for the rest of her daughters life to the best of her ability. Every stitch and warning given was noticed.

And to Elizabeth, who spent the rest of her life hiding footprints for her mother in a home that had tried to strip her memory.

To the bond of the two, never truly understood.

You stood, stiff and freezing in the cold weather, on the very steps your mother walked up the day she was executed. A message you were very sure your father intended, one that you would not cave into.

Verlain, your fathers hand, stood to your right with a grim expression as he did his best to stop looking to the stained spot at the top of the steps. Where her blood had leaked down, seeping into the stone in a mark that would be there forever. It would be centuries before her death would be forgotten, a fact that sent a wave of nausea through you, gripping you in its fierce hold as you tried to inhale some fresh air. Fighting to keep the tears welling in your eyes at bay as the corset constricts against your ribs.

Breathe. Keep your wits about you.

“Are you feeling alright, your highness?” Verlain asks, eyebrows pinching together as he watches your hand slide across the front of your dress, as if you could ease the ache in your ribs and lungs from rubbing it. His tone slips at the last two words and you have to bite back the bitter laugh, not willing to risk your breath on it.

A moon ago you had been nothing more than a bastard to this court, upon his orders. Anyone within earshot of his majesty knew that the forsaken daughter of the castle whore would be painted a bastard the rest of her life.

The second her body had been carted off he had your handmaiden pack you up, sending you both to an estate far off, so that he would never have to look upon your face again.

“You haunt me! You plain cunt! You HAUNT ME!” He had yelled the day you begged, the day you crawled to your knees begging him to keep you. Of course you haunted him, you had her face. And whether he had to look upon you or not you were sure she haunted his every move.

She surely hadn’t visited you since she passed. There were no ghosts in the offwood estate. This castle, however, had more than you could dare keep track of.

But you hadn’t seen her. Whether you should be thankful for that had yet to be seen.

“Princess?” Verlain asks again, taking a step up, getting closer as he extends a hand to you. “Prin-“

“Don’t call me that.” You sneer, slapping his hand away from you and readjusting the veil that covered your face. Even with your back turned to the spit you could still see her blood on the stone, gulping quickly. Don’t look. Don’t. Look.

But Verlains eyes cast behind you to the stain, his neck showing an audible gulp before he guiltily looks back to you. “Princess, I never got to speak with you after-“

“I’m not your princess.” Your tone was cold, and you made a show of shooing him away. “And you should mind yourself, Lord Verlain. If his majesty catches you this close he might think ill of the intent.”

Verlains face pales, the man stepping back so quickly he nearly slips on the steps before turning back to the courtyard below, fixing his embellished attire.

You missed being a bastard. A bastard would never be sold off like this.

There was a war brewing, and many of the kingdoms were beginning to panic for alliances, this kingdom included. And there was one ally that everyone wanted, the seven kingdoms. Westeros. For there was truly no war that could be won against them.

You’d never seen a dragon, and if this was any under circumstance you would be excited. But this was your very own death march. Or as your mothers own prophet had claimed “you’ll earn your mothers reckoning.”

There was an ax somewhere out there with your name on it….. or maybe the jaw of a dragon ready to chew you up.

Before you could much more on it a firm grip snatches the back of your neck, pulling a gasp from you as it pulls you to them aggressively, the smell of wine filling your senses. “You step a foot out of line today and I’ll have your head just like I had your fucking mothers. You hear me, bastard? I’ll spike in on a fucking post.”

You can only nod, afraid that if you give a verbal response you might whine in pain, and you refuse to show him that weakness. He takes your response, letting go before moving to speak with Verlain as your older sister and little brother stand off to the side.

The best way to secure an alliance was through marriage. Your older sister couldn’t be married off since she was already married to a lord, and your younger brother was the heir to the kingdom, not to mention the Targaryens didn’t have many girls to marry off.

But they had Aemond Targaryen, the rumored demon of Westeros, with one eye and the largest dragon.

So you were renamed a princess, one that would be able to marry a prince.

Princess of whores being married to a prince of monsters. If your mother could see you now.

Bile rises up your throat as the memory of her face flashes through your mind, your eyes once again welling with tears. Stop thinking about her. Stop stop stop stop stop.

The heavy sound of thunder pulls your attention, blinking slowly as you try to peer through the veil to see the storm on its way, only to see clear skies. Confusion fills you as your brother gasps loudly, and then you see them, a hoard of dragons filling the skylines as their wings flap in unison . Not thunder, dragons.

Nausea fills you once more, and yet your mouth goes dry, fists clenching into the heavy skirts of your dress as you spot the older dragon riding in the back, a blur of long white hair flying with it.

And you know without a doubt, your future husband has arrived.

“Listen to me.” She sobs, falling to her knees before you as you cry out, the banging on the door scaring you even more than her tears. “You need to listen to me.”

“Where is papa?!” You scream, your mothers handmaidens rushing around the room as she pulls your face closer to hers by the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together.

“Listen. To. Me.” She seethes, wiping your tears with a swipe of her thumb. “Breathe. Keep your wits about you. I need you to remember that these people are not your kin. They are not yours. They will not protect you.”

“Mama-“

“And your father is not- do. Not. Trust. Your. Father.”

“Mama please-“

“You need to remember to breathe. Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And?”

“Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And…. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. They cannot break me.”

“Good. Good girl.” She sobs, reaching to kiss your forehead, her lips holding there for a long moment as the door to your mothers apartments break open and the guards storm in.

The handmaidens pull you back quickly, right as your mother shoves something in the top of your dress before they are on her. There is no gentleness in the way they grab her by her hair and drag her out, and there is no gentleness in the grip the handmaidens keep on you as you claw and bite to get to her.

By the time they are out of sight there is nothing left but her shoe that had fallen as she was dragged out, and what she had hidden in your dress.

Your mother had been taken.

Aemond was sick of the wind, a feeling he never thought he would get and yet it has arrived. He was ready to land, get a break from the beast below his thighs and have a meal that hadn’t been dried and shoved into a satchel last week.

His mothers boat stayed below them, his eldest sister's dragon taking the lead of their travel in the front as his uncle stuck to her right. Aegon, a spoiled brat through and through, was left in Kings Landing to act as King Regent as Rhaenyra traveled with them.

Helaena and Jacaerys keeping him in check.

But his brother had gotten under Aemonds skin just fine before they left, whispering rumors about his future bride in drunken slurs that made him both angry in a protective manner and angry in nervousness that the whispers might be true.

“They passed her mother around the court like a toy to their whims, and when she was used up they killed her and replaced her with her daughter. You’ll get nothing but a rag dear brother.”

The kingdom they flew to now had always been secretive within itself, and word rarely left it’s shores. The only thing anyone really knew is they had an army of soldiers that had yet to be conquered, who wore gold armor and spoke in ancient whispers.

He is snapped out of his haze as Rhaenyra signals to land, and Aemond takes a moment to rejoice in the feeling of his feet on soil, focusing on that the entire hike up to the castle with his mothers arm now looped into his as Vhagar and the ship are left at the docks.

“Don’t be nervous.” Alicent Hightower whispers, reaching a hand to swipe at his cheek, humming in discontent before licking the pad of her thumb and swiping his cheek once more. He groans, trying to pull back.

Even if she meant well he knew his mother never understood how painful the skin near his eye was. The scar was always pulling and swollen, not to mention how hard the eye was to clean if the patch moved even the slightest bit.

“I hear she’s beautiful.” Lucerys offers, keeping close to his own mothers side. “You saw her painting!”

Indeed Aemond had, and like a lovestruck fool he had stared at it for hours until it was time to go. The very painting now sat in his chambers, waiting to be hung for after the wedding…. If there was to be a wedding.

His chest tightens as the castle steps come into view, multiple figures dressed in their finest clothes standing among them.

In the front, in the most ridiculous frille of red and gold, stood the king. A smug smile laced on his features as an overly large crown stands on his head. Beside him with her arms crossed primly was a younger woman, wearing a smaller tiara of red rubies and a busty gown that he was sure Aegon would have leered at, smiling from ear to ear.

The king and his 5th wife then, and behind him a bit to the left on an upper step, had to be Verlain. The hand to the king.

Two more figures a bit further up, one clad in a light blue dress, rubbing at her stomach softly as she watched with nothing more than a nervous expression. Making eye contact with Aemond for just a moment before her face goes red and she looks away, disgust at himself rising in his chest.

What will my future wife think? He wonders, panic clawing at his throat. Will she refuse me? Will I truly be so ugly?

Before he can take a closer look at the boy beside the pregnant woman he looks over to…. You. Standing a little further to the right of the rest, obviously not really knowing where else to go, with a veil covering your face and wearing a gown of black and red. The long petticoat skirts held within your hands, the long bell sleeves barely covering your hands and the cape connected to the back of the dress making you look every bit pristine.

The first thing he notes is the lack of jewelry. No rings, no crown or tiara, no bracelets. An odd thing since the rest of your family was completely adorned with anything they could find.

“Queen Rhaenyra.” The king smiles, bowing his head the slightest inch, a fact that has both Aemond and Damon straightening. A slight to Rhaenyra, he was sure. “And her traveling companions. We welcome you.”

Aemond risks another look to you as Verlain extends a hand to help you descend the stairs. He can’t hear anything of what anyone is saying as he watches you, heart thumping through his chest at your every movement.

“-and this is my daughter.” The king mumbles out, his tone tightening at the phrase daughter as you bow gracefully, neck going low as you curtsy need to Rhaenyra then greet the rest of the party in correct order. Before he could say anything you lift the veil and his breath catches.

The oil painting did you no Justice. And within moments he found himself yearning to trace his fingers over your cheek as he had done to the painting to see how the softness would compare.

“And this is my brother, Aemond Targaryen. First of his name, rider of the great Vhagar and-“

“It is an honor.” The king interrupts Rhaenyra, your cheeks tinging with blush as your jaw tightens. You must know your father is being disrespectful then, and at least one of you has the decency to be embarrassed.

“As much as I love flattery,” he begins, not tearing his eyes from you. “I’d prefer if you showed my sister more respect. Last person to disrespect her so had his head sliced through the middle.”

Daemon has the audacity to check his nails for dirt as Rhaenyra sends him a knowing look, his mother tightening her hold on his elbow in approval before moving to you.

“It is an honor to meet you.” She holds out both hands, which you calmly place your own above as you watch her, and Aemond sees the skepticism glint in them. The narrowing of them as your nose scrunches. “Your beauty was surely understated. Don’t you agree Aemond?”

“Indeed. But to be fair I don’t think any painting or letter would ever do you justice.” You don’t say anything, merely bow your head in feigned shyness while the crowned woman behind you speaks up.

“They say she has her mothers complexion.” She giggles loudly, and your spine tightens quickly. “May the child be blessed with the one good thing about her-“

“You’ve had a long journey. I’m sure your hungry and we still some final touches on this alliance. I trust you find my daughter to your liking?” There that tone is again, like he is disgusted to call you his daughter.

“Of course. We accept the marriage proposal, let’s feast and forge out the rest of the details.” Rhaenyra nods, allowing Daemon to help her up the stairs as the king leads them inside.

Aemond is torn between offering his mother his arm or you, desperate to touch you but not wanting to seem like the type to leave his mother.

Lucerys is there, offering his arm and drawing the first actual smile from you, a wave of anger filling Aemond at the sight. “Might I escort you to dinner?”

“You may escort me up the stairs, but unfortunately it would be improper for me to join dinner.” His mother snaps her attention to that, watching you as closely as Aemond already had been while Lucerys leads you up the steps.

They both watch as you look in the opposite direction of where you are walking, keeping your face turned away from one particular spot.

“Is that…. Blood?” His mother gasps, and Aemond can do nothing but stare at the large stain of it, blinking slowly as the sun hits the dial at the top of the staircase.

It was clear that this had been set up as a stage at some point, the message still stained into the earth.

He doesn’t answer his mother, instead he helps her up the steps as he follows the rest of the group.

He was angry. It was the only thing he could register, the anger. The rest of it was numb, the blade that took his eye had made sure of it. No love, no happiness, no remorse. He just felt anger.

It burnt through his throat until he had no choice but to scream, tore through his chest like acid as he raged to relieve some of it, his sword swinging at anything he could.

The posts on his bed were the first to have been attacked, the broken canopy it once held brutalized and torn in the corner. The desk was next and he even took a hot poker from the fire to shatter the mirror in one swift move.

Every move was sheer force, every yell was an attempt to ease him, every slam of his fist and kick of his feet an instinct he could not fight.

Where was the justice?

People avoided looking at him now, whispers following him everywhere he went. Females outwardly laughed and gasped at him, acting as if he was a demon that had clawed from the shadows.

“Aemond.” Alicent tries, her hands folded against her dress as she watches her son rage within the walls of his room, feeling useless. He was in pain and there was nothing she could do. “Aemond please.”

“I DONT WANT TO BE HERE! THEY THINK IM A MONSTER!”

“Aemond-“

“KILL ME! KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME!” He rages, picking up the sword once more as she takes a step back, the tears falling from her eyes. She knows he would never, he was forged from steel itself, but the fear consumes her as she calls for Cole. Sobbing.

“Help him.” She pleads, hearing the old dragon roar in the distance as Aemond shatters under the pressure.

“It hurts.” The boy sobs, falling into the glass of his once mirror. “It won’t stop hurting!”

Cole nods, without a word he heaves the boy up, dragging him out and across the glass until they clear the room. His grip is brutal, even Aegon tries to stop them when they pass him in the hall.

“Where are you taking my brother?” He snaps, standing straight, the soberest Aemond has ever seen him.

But Cole doesn’t answer, and when Aemond trips the armor pinches into his skin as he is hefted back up until they make it to the training yard.

“You want to die? Earn it.” Cole snaps, picking up a sword. He doesn’t warn his strike, Aemond barely has a second to dodge as the blade swipes at him, falling to the mud quickly.

The wetness of it seeps into his clothes, staining them as his fingers dig in to crawl to the weapons to defend himself.

He remembers the feel of the earth in that moment, latching on to that anger once more as he stands to fight.

You weren’t allowed at the feast, a fact that Aemond finds suspicious as his Uncle moves around the room with his hand on his sword ready for an attack, making eye contact with each servant there. Everyone was on edge, this entire ordeal one that screams trap.

“Might I ask why the bride will not be joining us?” Rhaenyra breaks the silence, fixing herself in the chair given, nodding to the rest of her party to sit as well.

“After the events of her mother…. It’s better if she doesn’t join us.” The king answers, casting a look to Daemon. “She mourns her mother. Taken too soon from an illness.”

The air around them turns pungent, the sign of a lie fallen flat. Lucerys casts him a side look, his thick eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the king raises a glass to toast.

“To the blessed union of our families.” Everyone raises their own glasses before taking a sip, but not Aemond, he sets his glass down and looks around the room some more while the conversation is struggling to be picked back up.

“Those are lovely pearls.” Alicent tries, doing her best to ease some of the tension.

“Oh thank you.” The young queen giggles, leaning forward. “It’s out of fashion out here ever since-“

The king slams his hand upon her own, a bang emanating from the wood. She flinches, but tries to smile through it and Aemond feels a rage fill him as he imagines you having to do the same thing before. Is that why you chose not to eat with them?

“Pearls are…. Out of fashion out here.” Your sister fills in the silence, “the woman at the court tend to avoid them.”

“Speaking of.” Verlain smiles. “I have some things packed and ready to be transported. Gifts from the royal family to yours as a part of the arrangement. To be presented on the wedding day.”

“I just hope there will be room for all of us aboard that ship of yours.” The king smiles, though Aemond sees right through it.

“I can assure you it’s quite big. What a lonely ride it was here, while the others rode dragons. I am looking forward to the company on the way back. I do hope the bride fares well in the sea.”

“I believe my sister to be excited for it.” The pregnant once smiles, the first real smile from this table.

Aemond says nothing, picking up his goblet and draining the liquid in one easy go. Even the wine here tasted shit. Lucerys laughs under his breath when a pig is set on the table and when Aemond turns to glare thinking the jest is to him he finds that the young queen was using her cutlery to check her appearance.

He leans closer, Lucerys following his lead. “I hope that my future bride is not too attached to her family. For if I have to spend a second past the wedding with them I might just-“

Alicent slaps his shoulder quickly, making him sit up as Lucerys snickers. Whether he got to finish his sentence or not the message had been delivered.

She spent the last month of her life trapped in a tiny room, with nothing but a bed and a small window barred to keep her in. Her chamber pot was changed once a week and she was allowed one handmaiden.

But she tried not to let it craze her, pouring herself into preparations for the future ahead of her. Everyday followed the same routine.

In the morning she was brought to a chapel within the castle where the minister would pray with her, and every morning he would ask her if she had any sins she’d like to pray forgiveness for. She never did, for she remained adamant that she did nothing wrong. And she could withstand the scalding look the man gave her each time for his opinion did not matter, she knew her truth.

She spent the days seeing, ordering dresses and adjusting them. Day after day. Ordering dress after dress, a small gift her lord husband had allowed her. If she were to die then at least she would die well dressed.

But the dresses weren’t for her, she didn’t pour over every stitch for herself and she didn’t hem each one to perfection for her own vanity, for she knew the second this was over for her that her daughters life would be ruined.

She would prepare as much as she could for her daughter, she was a mother and she would not fail her even in her last moments.

Meanwhile you begged and pleaded for her back, crying into your sisters arms as she held you, rocking you back and forth.

Your father hadn’t come to see you since she was taken, and you weren’t allowed at court, soon enough even your sister was denying visits. Left alone with your handmaiden until the fateful day.

Verlain, one of your fathers men, came to the door and excitement filled you when you saw him. He had always been so kind and often stole sweets for you when no one was looking, but that morning he didn’t smile.

“I thought she might want one more friendly face with her.” He explains to the handmaiden, who has tears in her eyes as she nods. She pulls you away and prepares you, lacing your corset and dressing you in black before taking your hand and leading you through the halls.

“Are we going to see-“

“Shhh. Don’t say a word.” Verlain warns, trying to keep his voice soft. “Not today little lamb.”

You nod, reaching to grab his hand as well as they lead you to the courtyard. You remain in the back, with a good view of the steps, still holding both their hands.

Your mothers group of handmaidens stood to the side of the steps, all looking worried and most with tears falling down while someone hisses at Verlain.

“You brought her kin?!”

“The king demanded she be here.” Verlain answers back, something like grief crossing his face. “To witness.”

And witness you did.

You remember it well, the silent scream that clogged your throat and the way you tried running for her. You had fallen when Verlain pulled you back, your fingers digging into the mud as you tried to crawl to her with all your strength as the blood poured down.

After you had been dragged, kicking and screaming, to your chambers you’d been thrown in by the guards. The first person allowed access to come and see you had been your mothers main handmaiden, one you hadn’t seen at the execution, who you would later learn had reported your mother falsely.

She did not hug you, she did not coddle you. The only thing she asked was “your mothers necklace? Have you any idea where she hid it?”

You told her no, still crying, feeling betrayed.

She left soon after.

A week after that you were forced to kneel before your father as he stripped you of your title and your lineage. “You are her daughter and nothing more. A bastard in the eyes of the faith and the crown.”

You sobbed and begged him not to, crying over and over “papa!”

He screamed at you, slapping you across the cheek so hard you sprawled across the stone.

That night, your last night in the castle, you sat by a singular burning candle as an unknown phantom gently traced the bruise, singing softly to you as you waited for your mother to appear to you.

If there was anyone who would use your gift you were sure it would be her.

But she never came, and you were sent away, and soon the castle was scrubbed of her memory.

Your last night there was spent exactly the same as years ago, a fresh bruise adorning your cheek from your fat- his majesty, and you sitting by a candle and waiting for her. Silently pleading for her ghost to appear.

“Come on mother.” You whisper, waiting. “Just one more time before I meet you in the afterlife. Please.”

She does not show, and when the sun begins to rise you are escorted from your rooms down to the docks were your luggage was being loaded.

“Is this all you have?” Lucerys, the name he introduced himself with yesterday, asks and you nod.

“Not much is provided for Basta- for brides to be.” He takes your lie, smiling before you curtsy and allow him to run and catch up with his mother and father.

“I hope you will be okay with entertaining my mother for the journey.” An even voice fills the silence, your heart lunging through your chest as you turn to see the prince. You thought he was gorgeous, desperate to reach a hand out and see what was under the patch.

You refrained of course.

He, however, seemed unable to control himself as he brought a hand up to the bruise on your cheekbone. His fingertips tracing over it ever so lightly.

“How does he have black hair?” You ask, desperate to get the topic away from your cheek before it can even start.

“It’s…. A long story.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Might I escort you to your chambers on the boat.”

He holds out a hand for you to take, and for a moment a pitch of fear fills you. Don’t look don’t look don’t look.

But you can’t stop yourself from turning to those steps, and seeing the blood among them for the last time. Once you’re gone that’s all that will be left of her memory, and that tears a hole through your soul.

She shouldn’t have to be alone here, but you were sure that you would find her soon enough, there was no way you would ever survive the Targaryens. It was the only reason your father would ever bother to accept this at all.

So, ignoring the white haired god beside you, you turn fully to the steps and bow properly. “Until we meet again.”

Your tears sink into the dirt, in the exact spot you once crawled, and when a breeze hits your cheek you can do nothing but lift your head to see her. Standing at the top of the steps, bowing back to you.

Tears fall quicker, and your throat stings from it as you turn to grab the princes still outstretched hand, and as the last remnants of the second queen fade the last memory of her is lead away to the docks, clutching the lost necklace tightly in the pocket of a dress she once sewed.

And you know, that just as your mother once did, you would meet your fate with your head held high.

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. They cannot break me.

But you hadn’t quite known what Kings Landing had in store for you, no one had expected it really.

(It's been a minute since I wrote something like this and this is the first time in months that writing hadn't felt like a chore. I hope you enjoy it!)

Part 2.... maybe?

#aemond hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen possessive #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen is back #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon

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ultralightpoe · 1 month

Text

My Writing....

Hello,

Some of you might have noticed as of recently that I haven't been posting or updating my projects and to anyone waiting on a story they requested or the next part of a chapter I am terribly sorry for the wait.

My life has his a bump in the road (a massive massive bump.... well more like a brick wall that my life ran into at full speed) and I have been struggling quite a bit.

Through family illnesses, unemployment and diagnosed Ptsd and depression I have been struggling just making it through day by day and my writing has become more of a chore rather than something for myself. Which saddens me since I have used writing as a source of therapy for the longest time.

At the moment I need to take a break, try to pick myself back up and get moving again. I am so sorry to anyone that was waiting for me to post (though I'm not sure there were many) and I promise I will be back soon.

Until then I wish you all well, my inbox is always open so feel free to send in requests for when I return.

Stay happy, stay healthy, and most importantly stay safe.

Until we meet again,

Ultralightpoe

#imagines #fanfic #marvel imagines #house of the dragon imagines #bullet train imagines #scream imagine #hunger games imagine #the witcher imagine #ted lasso imagine #stranger things imagine #top gun imagine

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ultralightpoe · 1 month

Text

Dear Reader - Tangerine

Authors Note : Sometimes I hate writing, sometimes I love writing. This past month? Writing has been my worst enemy

Word Count: 4463

Warnings: Cussing, semi smut (not really tho)

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @peachyspaceslvt )

x Enjoy! x

Dear reader

If it feels like a trap, you're already in one

Dear reader

Get out your map, pick somewhere and just run

Dear reader

Burn all the files, desert all your past lives

And if you don't recognize yourself

That means you did it right

He didn’t know why he was so mad, this was exactly what he told you to do. Had left exact instructions to do so the last time he talked to you, scrawled across that stupid fucking paper along with his heart, signed and ready to go.

It was meant to happen, he knew that. You did not belong in his world, he did not belong in your world. But the issue was he was obsessed with you, he couldn’t seem to let you go. He tried, over and over he tried to get you to run the other way. That was the best option for you, but he could never follow through with it.

You were his.

You were meant for him, he was sure of that. There was no other explanation.

He had met you at some pompous event, stalking someone he had been sent to kill before he saw you, dazzling and breathtaking. Hiding behind a pillar as you twisted your hair between your finger while people passed around you like you weren’t there which confused the shit out of him because how did you miss someone as gorgeous as you?

He stared until he caught your eye on accident, straightening his spine and cursing under his breath to concentrate as he walks away. He pretended that he had self control, he pretended like he wasn’t desperate to catch your eye once more. That pretend game lasted all but 5 minutes before he strutted over to you and introduced himself.

He ended up in your bed that night, and when you woke up in the morning he made you breakfast before dragging you back to bed. Little did you know that in between he had snuck out to go handle that client before he came back. And he was sure if you did that you would be gone in an instant. That was something he could not risk. He could not lose you.

So he kept his work life hidden from you. He claimed he was a marketing executive and had to travel to clients a lot. You never asked too many questions, just enough to know what he was like. He felt guilty lying to you, but he had to keep you.

Until the lives he worked so hard to keep separate ended up crashing into each other, and your life had been put on the line. He was forced to let you go, something he never wanted to do.

Even worse he had to strip himself from your life completely, make it look like he was never there.

His plan started with breaking you unfortunately.

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

(You should find another)

He had spent the last hour cleaning your apartment of everything, his shirt, his photos, his cologne. Anything connected to him was taken and torched, leaving a hole in his chest that he was sure would never heal. Watching the flames engulf his memories with you, smiles catching fire before a moment of panic clings to him and he reaches to snatch one of the last photos out before it can burn, blowing on it quickly to stop the flames before slapping a hand over it to stop it from burning completely.

He was stupid, shoving it in the pocket of his suit vest, his chest aching as his hands shake before your ringtone sounds out, pulling him from his thoughts.

A smile pulls at his lips when he reads the newest name you had turned your contact info into on his phone.

‘D*** sucking queen is calling…’

Rolling his eyes at you as his thumb swipes across the screen to answer, hearing music blast in the background as he answers. “Lovey?”

“Baby! Where are you?” You ask, and the sound of your voice makes his guilt heighten as he debates this plan. It’s not worth it, he would find a way to protect you, he could- no. Your life would not be put at risk over this.

He loved you, and Lemon said that if you love something then let it go.

“I’m at home, what can I do for you gorgeous?” Ask me anything, I’d give you anything you need or want. Just ask me.

“You promised me you’d be here at 10.” You mumble through the phone and he can’t fight the smile at the tone. “Where are you?”

“I….” He gets ready to say something flirty and promise to be on his way over; but that he knows what he has to do.

“I can’t make it tonight.” He huffs, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. If this was to be done he needed to do it right, he needed to make sure you wanted him out of your life enough to make it work. “Why the fuck you calling me so late anyways? Spamming me all fucking day.”

“What?” You laugh, not catching his tone quite yet. “I texted you twice.”

“You gotta stop being a clingy bitch, ye? I’ve met dogs that whine less than you..” he growls, his hand sliding up his vest to feel and make sure your photo together is still there as he begins to march away from the fire left. “Nothing but a spoiled fucking cunt.”

“I’m sorry?! What the fuck is with the attitude?” You snap, and he knows his plan is working, the pain in his chest heightening. “I don’t know what’s going on but speaking to me like that isn’t okay-“

“Get a fucking life and stop pestering me yeah?” He snaps, ignoring the tears in his eyes. “Quit fucking bothering me you ugly cunt.”

Please don’t believe me, please don’t leave me. I don’t mean this. I never would.

“Go to hell.” You snap, your voice tight and pained, the beep of the call ending filling his ears.

He is left in the silence of his walk home, trying not to let it get to him.

Lemon is waiting there when he walks in, standing awkwardly while Tan glared.

“Did you do it?” He asks, looking upset for his brother.

“Yes. I fucking did, so get packing will ya?!” He snaps out, snatching the warning threat they received earlier and storming to pack.

They had to leave before they were killed. And any trace to you had been wiped clean.

Dear reader

Bend when you can, snap when you have to

Dear reader

You don't have to answer, just 'cause they asked you

(You should find another)

Dear reader

The greatest of luxuries is your secrets

Dear reader

When you aim at the devil make sure you don't miss

He could kill the fucker touching you with his bare hands, convince him to go to the alley the next time you go for a round of drinks and by the time you got back the tool would already be taken care of. He imagines taking his place, sitting in the chair smugly as you come back. He would say something brave and flirty, you would run back into his arms and then he would drag you to the very alley he killed your date in and claim you as his once more.

He had an entire plan.

But it was just a dream, because he wasn’t even supposed to be here. If anyone came searching for him he had to make sure there was no trace leading back to you. But he couldn’t stay away.

Which is why he is here, sitting in the corner of an overpacked bar and watching you on your first date with some random bloke, just making sure you’re okay. He could do that at least.

But what the fuck was this guy thinking? Bringing you to this cheap and nasty place for a date? You deserved better than this. You deserved the world on a silver platter.

And Tangerine should have been allowed to give you it.

Anger takes control and he finds himself gripping his pint glass a little tighter, grinding his teeth down while watching the bar in front of him. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he finally lets the glass go to grab it, sighing when he sees his brothers name on the screen. He ignores it, not really wanting to hear his stupid safety lecture right now.

‘You know you shouldn't be near her blah blah blah. You are risking her, blah blah blah. I want you on the next flight out here for your own good. Blah blah blah.’ He could never get out of those bloody fucking lectures lately. ‘You’re a thomas. I know it brother. You just have to act like it.’

It rings again, making him roll his eyes before swiping and answering. “What the fuck do you want?” “Will you be home for dinner?” His brother starts, his tone already telling Tangerine that he knows everything.

“No. I’ll call you later, Lem-”

“Please tell me you are not where I think you are.” He huffs through the phone, the distinct sound of Thomas the train in the back of the call.

“Are you watching that fucking christmas episode again mate?!” He snaps out, watching the server cast him a nervous glance before he nods his head in apology and covers the mouth piece. “I apologize. Didn’t mean to cuss in front of a lady.”

She blushes, walking past with a dazed out smile on her face. He smiles back right as Lemon finishes up his safety speech. “Just come home Tan, before something happens to her. Okay. You’d be torn if anything happened to her. I know it.”

“I know.” Tan grits out, closing his eyes for a moment. “I just needed to see her….”

“I know, mate.” He hates the pity in his brother's voice. It makes him want to bust someone's face in. He is looking around for a target when his eyes drift back to your table, right as you slap your date's hand off your knee, moving to stand quickly.

When he sees your date snatch your wrist he stands himself, ready to pummel him in when you snatch your glass and throw it in his face. A wave of pride fills him, watching you stomp out as people clap and cheer while he tries to calm himself down.

He pays his tab, having already hung up on his brother, before he heads to follow your date out and keeps himself a little hidden. When your date heads close to the alley Tangerine can’t help the smug smile that spreads across his face as he follows.

Even if he couldn’t be near you he could still protect you.

And he would. No. Matter. What.

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

In a moment of weakness he writes the letter, scribbling quickly as he writes a warning. He knew better. He did.

But how could he not.

How could he not confess his love, writing how he wishes he was still there. He writes what to do if anyone asks for him, deny deny deny. And…. He drunkenly tells the truth.

He admits to his career and the threat.

When he wakes up the next morning it’s already been sent out, and in his hungover daze he can’t help but yell out, smacking himself harshly as Lemon comes shuffling out of his own room.

“What’s happened?” He asks, blinking slowly at his brother as Tangerine sneers.

“I made a mistake.” He snaps, anxiety gripping at his chest. “I…. She’s gonna know everything now.”

“Everything? Everything everything?” He asks, shock claiming his face as both brothers stare at each other. Before either of them knew it a screaming match would ensue.

So I wander through these nights

I prefer hiding in plain sight

My fourth drink in my hand

These desperate prayers of a cursed man

Spilling out to you for free

But darling, darling, please

You wouldn't take my word for it

If you knew who was talking

He promises himself that he’ll go home once he is sure you made it inside safe and comfortable. Once he is sure you’re okay then he could feel better about leaving you. So he trails you, keeping an ear out for any threats as he stays far enough behind to keep you within sight but not dangerous enough.

He knows the walk to your apartment like the back of his hand, could walk it blindfolded if he really needed to. And he would, just to make sure you’re okay he would do anything.

But he is shocked when you make an unexpected turn, his body tightening up when he realizes you had turned into an unknown ally.

“Fuckin hell….” He mutters under his breath, speeding up his steps to catch up, when he turns the corner to the ally he has no clue what to do when he sees you there, standing in all your glory with your arms crossed and your hip jutted out.

He’s busted, you’re staring at him and he is racking his brain to try and find a way out of this.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know I was being followed home?” You laugh, but it’s not your normal happy laugh, rather your sarcastic angry one. “I dated you for 2 years. How many times did you lecture me over and over on safety when walking home?”

A snort falls from his lips as he thinks back to earlier in the night when he was upset at Lemon for doing the very same thing. How could he be angry when he so often did it himself?

“Oh come on.” You huff, fixing your hair as you take a step closer. “Let’s hear it. Get into the speech. ‘Where’s your protection? Can you fight in that outfit? Fucks sake, angel, this is unsafe.’ Just get on with it.”

“I shouldn’t be here.” He whispers out, watching you get closer and closer. “This is unsafe for both of us.”

“And yet you’re here.” You smile, one step away from him. You’re so close he can smell your perfume, breathing in deep as his hands itch to reach out and touch you. He’s done for the second your hand finds itself messing with the lapel of his blazer, pulling the fabric between your fingers softly as your eyes trail over him softly.

“I got a letter awhile back.” You whisper, taking that last step to him, so you were chest to chest.

“It was a mistake.” He whispers back, but his forehead presses to your cheek anyways, his lips trailing your jaw.

“I could tell when you misspelled your name.” You huff a laugh. “How long have you been following me?”

“I never stopped.” He admits, losing the fight of control when his fingers fly up to the hem of your skirt, tracing softly along the flesh of your thigh.

“Tell me everything.” You request, right as he places an actual kiss to your jaw that makes your breath catch, a wave of pride crossing him at the sound.

“I can’t.”

“Tangerine.” You snap, hands fisting in his jacket. “Please.”

“This is not a good idea.” He huffs out once more, his own hands gripping the fabric at your dress tightly.

“Fine. If it’s not a good idea then I’ll just go find someone for a fun time.” You laugh, immediately letting go of him and taking a step back which forces a deep growl to pass from his lips before he can stop it, his hands still gripped in the fabric of your outfit. “Nuh uh. Hands off. I’m gonna go find my man from earlier tonight.”

You try to push his hands away and walk past him, but his arm shoots out to snatch you, pressing your bodies together, pushing you both until you're pressed into the wall of the alley. He slips his blazer off, moving it smoothly until it’s around your shoulders and blocking you from the wall, laughing lightly when you struggle to slip your arms through but with his help you manage it and your fingers hook through the chain around his neck and pull him in to kiss you.

He can’t resist, he’s tired of resisting.

If you knew where I was walking

To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there

Where I pace in my pen and

My friends found friends who care

No one sees when you lose

When you're playing solitaire

Are you okay?” Someone asks, pulling your attention away from the letter you were holding in a shaky grip as they barge through your apartment, dresses and shoes covering every inch of your floor from the last few weeks of partying you had gone through.

“It’s nothing.” You mumble, rereading the confession over and over before folding it up, leaning closer to your fireplace and pulling a brick free, shoving the letter in the hiding spot and moving to follow them and get ready for the next party.

You think about the words, the handwriting scorching in your mind as you throw yourself in the thrill of the dance, letting the alcohol take over you.

You lose yourself for a moment, but a hand on your thigh pulls you back, heart hammering as fear overtakes you while you look around. It’s then that your gaze snags on the figure hidden off to the side, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he watches you intently, the fear vanishing into excitement as you snap your attention back to your surroundings and exit the dance floor.

But the second you look back he is already gone, and you wonder if it was just your imagination.

You should find another guiding light

Guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another guiding light

Guiding light

But I shine so bright

The kiss is deep and passionate, your head hits the brick of the wall as you moan through it, one of his hands traveling to twist in your hair and keep a cushion between your skull and the wall, pulling the hair close to your skill tightly to force another moan out from your lips.

He can’t help his response at the sound, biting down at your bottom lip aggressively before pulling back for air while you smile up at him with that dazed out look and victorious glint all in one.

“Don’t do that.” He snaps out, frustration clawing at him.

“Do what?”

“Give me those fucking looks that you know break me.” His voice is a harsh grunt, breath catching as you shake your head and press your hips further into his, hiking your leg up around his hip.

“Here’s the thing.” You smile, circling your hips at just the right angle that makes him bark out a curse and grip at your thigh hungrily. “You haven’t apologized.”

“For. What.” He snaps, eyes pulling closed as you laugh.

“For what you said that night.”

“I….. what?” He gasps, pressing his hips further into yours, before you shove him back.

“The night you left.” You snap, shoving his hard chest one more time to get him off of you. “The things you said the night you-“

“How am I supposed to remember what I said?” He huffs, flustered and lost, every thought falling to you in the short skirt. But he realizes his mistake a little too late, eyes sliding up to where you are glaring at him, tears in your eyes that make his chest constrict painfully.

“Wait. No.” He rushes out, hands gripping into fists when you shake your head and try to move past. “Do. Not. Walk. Away.”

“What? Like you did?” You laugh bitterly, swiping the tears away. “So let me get this straight. You get to run away, take every memory of us like it’s nothing without a reason. Say hurtful things and run like a coward. I don’t get the truth until you mail a letter, a fucking letter, written in a drunken stupor. And I’m what? Just supposed to accept it all?”

“No- I shouldn’t be here.”

“No. You shouldn’t. We already have that settled. So why are you here Tan?”

You should find another

Guiding light

But I shine so bright

You should find another

Before he can stop himself his hand shoots out to grab around your neck, his grip the perfect mix between rough and gentle. Stern but not hurtful.

“Because. You. Are. Mine.” He snaps out, pulling you close until your forehead is pressed to his. “But I’m not good for you and that tears me up inside.”

You scoff, slapping his hand away with ease and shrugging like nothing was wrong. “You’ve always been so… dramatic. Angry, dramatic. You go from one step and then try to dive down the stairs.”

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps back, looking completely befuddled by your comment. The frustration grows when you slap his hands away from you, giving him an easy glare as you pass and begin to walk away. You fix your hair as you turn the corner, and he of course follows closely, his chest tight as he listens for any dangers near.

“You make decisions for me, always danger danger danger. Watch out for this angel, don’t walk so close to that angel.” You mock his accent, smiling at a cop you pass on the sidewalk which makes him angry the way the cop smiles back. Gritting his teeth together as he continues to follow you.

“That is not how I sound.” He growls.

“Angel, look here.” You continue to mock, pulling your best grumpy face. “If anyone bothers ya’ then you call me. You hear me? I’ll fuck em up good.”

“And I would! So-”

“How about this?” You interrupt, whirling quickly which makes him stop short as to not run into you. “You take some time to figure out what the fuck you want. None of this ‘I want ya’ but I can’t have ya’. Because I’m not trying to waste my time. So come and find me when you’re done playing games.”

“I’m not playing-”

“Goodbye.” You giggle, kissing the corner of his mouth which makes him chase your lips with his own, just barely missing you as you take a step back and walk off, waving down a cab easily. Before you hop in you turn to give him one last smile and wink. “Tell Lemon I said hello and that I miss him.”

Before he can step towards you the cab driver honks and you dash into the car quickly, leaving him behind.

You should find another

“You need to be on your best behavior.” You chide, keeping your hand tight on your own as you lead him through the crowded streets as he growls at people who bump into him. “My friends think you are some serial killer.”

He knows you’re joking and he knows your friends are joking as well, yet his spine tightens at your words as he tries to move you out of the way of the guy shoving through the crowd before he can hit you. What would you think if you actually knew the truth, he had only been dating you for a month but he refused to lose you.

“I will be on my best behavior… so long as Bethany keeps her trap shut. I’m tellin you right now angel, she is a bloody vex.”

“Why’s that?” You laugh, leaning into him in the way that makes his heart beat through his ribcage.

“She’s always such a cunt to ya. You think I don’t hear her comments while you are on the phone with her? Or see what she comments everytime you post? She’s a fuckin-”

“Be. Nice. To. Her.” You try to sound stern but you keep giggling through your words. “She told everyone that you say one off thing and she’s reporting you to the FBI.”

“For what? I haven’t done anything!” The lie is easy, making you laugh is easier.

“Just promise me you will be on your best.”

“Promise, Angel.”

He shouldn’t be here, he knew better than to be here at this moment but he couldn’t stop himself. He had gone back and forth, fighting himself over and over, for the past 2 weeks and no matter what side won there was only one clear answer. There was no him without you.

So he lifted his hand, rings glinting in the light of your apartment hallway as he knocked once, twice and three times. There was shuffling from the other side, and he knew you would be at the door soon so he straightened up his jacket and fixed his hair, swiping his fingers over his mustache right before you swung it open.

It takes two seconds before a sly smirk spreads across your face, leaning on the door frame as he clears his throat.

“I just-”

“You finally ready to admit you need me?” You tease, pushing out your chest a bit to tease him even further. “Or are you going to act like I’m safer without you?”

“You are.”

“Are not.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I can’t live without you.” He admits, stepping into your bubble, so you are both chest to chest. “And I can admit that.”

“So you’re taking me with you?”

“Where I go, you go.” He smiles, hand flying to the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heavy kiss.

“Hey, fuckin’ watch it.” He snaps to a random woman that passes, whipping back to you to make sure you’re fine. “Bloody hell, this is fuckin-”

“It was just some random girl that bumped into me, can you calm down?” You laugh, your fingers gripped into the sleeves of his tux as Lemon returns to you both with the drinks.

“We headin’ back to our seats before it starts?”

“Some old hag just nearly knocked Angel down!” Tan snaps out, as more people pass while you merely roll your eyes, not bothered in the slightest.

“It’s a concert! They are always packed, now let’s go!” You smile, snatching him close and kissing him quickly before turning to walk with Lemon back to the seats Tan had gotten you three for the concert.

He had no clue who this Taylor chick was, but if you two were happy then who could care?

#tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine fluff #tangerine angst #tangerine imagine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine and lemon #tangerine bullet train #tangerine headcanon #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #bullet train tangerine #bullet train smut #bullet train #bullet train angst #bullet train fluff

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ultralightpoe · 1 month

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reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

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Question? - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note : I always thought this one was unfinished so I never posted it but it's gotta be released from the drafts so here it is folks.

Word Count: 5800

Warnings: mentions of murder

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @falcvns )

x Enjoy! x

I remember

Therapists were no help to your situation, this much you were sure.

They tried, they really did. But there was no answer to your grief. Your family were good people and there was no doubt in you that that’s what got them killed. But you were supposed to meet the same fate as them, the only thing that went wrong was the fact that you managed to escape after watching the Winter Soldier slaughter them.

He had a moment of hesitation, one moment of pure eye contact as his hand inched for the knife that had been meant for you, and you had bolted.

And though the therapist tried to help you with the trauma, but there was no understanding. You watched your entire family get slaughtered, and then years later their killer would be renamed a fucking hero.

You were cursed with the memory of it all, scarred for life.

And the rest of the world was not.

It was your burden to bear.

Good girl, sad boy

Big city, wrong choices

We had one thing going on

I swear that it was something

'Cause I don't remember who I was before you

Painted all my nights

He spots you the day he moves in, carrying a simple duffle bag as he tries to hide in the back of the elevator. Sam had helped him move what little belongings he had earlier in the day, and tried his best to talk to him about what little things he had in the first place.

But Bucky didn’t listen, or tried not to. Truth was he was trying his best to add more to the collection, but it was hard. There was some stuff he couldn’t shake. And there was some stuff that Sam didn’t understand, the way people looked at him.

It was a 50/50 most of the time. Sometimes they smiled and were excited once they recognized him. Sometimes, like his last landlord, they freak out and get rid of him as fast as they can.

His last landlord broke his lease, as fast as he could, and Bucky struggled to find another apartment. Sam and Sarah helped him, and since the landlord was breaking the lease Bucky was able to get his rent and security deposit back. Not that it mattered since he was getting paid from the government anyways.

The elevator was beginning to fill up, an older lady with a dog on a tiny leash followed by a younger kid with his mom. He pushes himself further back into the corner, trying not to make eye contact with the mom not wanting to scare her. An older man limps in, says something flirty to the older woman before leaning against the wall. Some kid with a ragged beard wearing a colorful hoodie comes in, his eyes red and glazed, music blasting in his headphones as he nods to everyone before turning to the front. He smells of skunk as Sam would say and Bucky has to hold his breath to stop from inhaling it. His heightened senses forming a headache quickly.

But then there was you walking in.

Unlike the others he watches as your eyes mark everyone, then mark all exits and safety paths in sight before entering the elevator. He watches as you cross your arms, moving to press your floor before stopping and seeing it had already been pressed.

You must know everyone in the elevator already because when the doors start closing your head snaps to take one more look, and he watches as you spot him. He immediately casts his eyes down, keeping his hands in his pockets which makes it hard to watch your reaction. But he hears you inhale before turning back to the front.

He lifts his eyes then, only to see that you were watching him from the reflection of the doors. Clever.

There was something familiar, what was it about you that rung through his mind.

His heart speeding up as his eyes narrowed, through the distorted reflection he tries to recognize you. It’s right there, right there right there. If he could see your actual face then he can-

You whirl, eyes wide and your face flushed as if you just saw a ghost right as the doors open on the third floor. It wasn’t the right floor but within a flash you are running, sprinting from the elevator and dashing for the staircase.

He can do nothing but watch, while the others all turn to each other with odd expressions while Bucky blinks.

It’s clear then, it wasn’t Bucky that knew you. It was the Winter Soldier.

A color I've searched for since

But one thing after another

Lost in situations, circumstances

Miscommunications and I

Have to say

By the way

I just may like some explanations

It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be. It was just your imagination.

The view from the elevator was distorted, and you couldn’t actually see him but the second he narrowed those eyes, you saw him. Him that stormy night, the small step and the way his hand reached for his knife, the notch in his brow before you bolted.

You tore through the streets, hearing people yell as you bumped into them. Your breath was wasted and your body tight as you ran and ran and ran.

The only reason you stop is because a loud honking sounds out and a hand is snatching you back with a yell right before you get plowed by a red car driving faster than light.

“ARE YOU CRAZY LADY?!” Someone screeches, pulling your attention to the face yelling into yours. “You nearly got killed, stupid!”

“S-sorry.” You manage to mumble out, trying to figure out where you ran to. “Where am I?”

“Jesus christ, someone call 911!” He snaps, keeping a hand on your shoulder as people crowd around. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You couldn’t concentrate, you could barely see. The Winter Soldier was back, and he was coming for you.

You were in trouble.

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was

Making fun of you

But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Then what did you do?

“You’re being crazy.” Someone laughs, drawing Bucky’s attention from where he sat on the couch. It had been a week since he moved in and he was still on edge with the new surroundings, every sound drew his attention. The windows were still bordered up and he made sure no one could get in.

The tv, though it was on, was kept on silent so he could keep an ear out which is what he was doing right now when he heard it.

“I’m not being crazy.” Another voice, one thrilling enough to make his heart speed up, sounds out with a clipped tone. Defensive and hurt. “You didn’t have to walk me up, okay?”

“Oh come on. Please don’t be mad at me-”

“I’m not mad. I get it. I can’t sleep on your couch forever.” The clipped angelic voice sounds out once more. “I just….. I could have sworn that…. I’m fine.”

The sound of a door swinging open follows before both of the voices head inside and he finds himself heading closer to the door in an attempt to hear them. It’s not like he has to try hard with the super hearing, their voices catching quickly.

“I just think you need to keep going to therapy. I know you said-”

“I am still going to therapy, okay? The only reason I called you is because the hospital wouldn’t let me be released without someone.” The voice snaps back. “Can you just go? I already feel embarrassed. So just go.”

The door opens quickly after that and Bucky finds himself peering out the peephole of his door as you lean against the door watching the other person storm off as you stay there. Once your friend is out of sight he watches as your eyes trace over all the doors in the hall, calculating and nervous, before they land on his door and you watch for a moment.

He doesn’t know what pulls him to do it but he opens the door, pretending to be looking as if he heard a sound.

“You hear something?” He asks, still pretending to look. He hears you inhale sharply and finally he looks up to see your eyes on his arm, tears welling up as you freeze there. “I…. um.”

What could he say? What could he say to someone he had obviously wronged but doesn’t remember it? How could he make it better?

“I’m sorry.” Good way to start. “Whatever happened I am sorry. But it’s important to know that I…. I have been cleared of-”

That snaps you out of the daze as you push back into your apartment and slam the door quickly.

Shit.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight?

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch ...her?

It's just a question

A sound had woken you up from your dreams, pulling you from the deep sleep quickly and sending every bolt of fear through you. There had been a loud bang, and you pulled from the princess sheets your mom had gotten you for your birthday, the face of snow white staring back at you as you leaned across Belle’s face to look out the window.

A strike of lightning has you shrieking out, dashing from the bed in a your alien pajamas as you run across the hallway to your parents room, barging through the door to climb onto their bed and find your mother. They were normally in bed by now, but you were shocked to see that neither of them were there.

So you jumped up at another strike of lightning, crying softly before running down the hall to see if they were in the living room where your sister often watched her cartoons.

You didn’t think anything when you slipped in the red liquid by your brother's door, and you missed the red handprint swiped by the wall next to your sister's door.

When you spot your moms figure on the couch you let the sobs free as you run to her side and force yourself under her arm to cuddle her. She doesn’t hug back, and this pulls another sob as you look up to see a red slash across her neck, reaching a hand up in the dim lighting to see pull at the necklace.

Only there is no necklace and you soon realize it’s a cut across her neck, your hand coming back bloody and warm. A loud scream pulls from you as you stand up, looking around for you dad sti screaming your lungs out.

That’s when you see him, slashing across your fathers throat quickly before turning to you, his blue eyes narrowing in on you right as you move.

He takes one step forward, but then grunts as if in pain, like he was fighting himself as he stared at her. His hand reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh and like a bolt you dash out, the rain hitting you as you scream and run anywhere you can.

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

Did you realize, out of time

She was on your mind

With some meathead guy

That you saw that night

But you were on something

“Her family used to take in strays apparently, and had a safehouse filled with kids escaping Hydra. Dad was a scientist, and knew how to get all the kids out until Hydra caught them. Sent the Winter Soldier not long after.” Sam reads out as Bucky walks with him across the pads of the gym, keeping his eyes trained for the person they were here to look for.

“Figured that much.” He sighs out, remembering the way you looked at him. “What are the chances I end up across the hall from her?”

“Not high. Fate or something.” Sam sighs, closing the phone before he spots the figure. “What are you planning on doing?”

“I can’t lose another place to live, and I doubt she can either. If she’s scared there is a reason so I have to find a way to fix it. Which would be better if I knew what I did.” Before Sam could ask anything else they are upon their target, giving him hard eyes.

“Captain Black America.” The man grunts, a smug smirk playing at his lips as he lifts more weights. “How ya doing?”

“Cut the crap.” Bucky snaps, clenching his fists. “We have some questions.”

It was one drink after another

Caught in politics and gender-roles

And you're not sure and I don't know

Got swept away in the gray

I just may like to have a conversation

You didn’t know what to do, you were stuck.

Breaking the lease would screw you over, you couldn’t hide at your friends places forever and you couldn’t stay in your apartment forever. The Winter Soldier lived across the hall from you. The man that slaughtered your family lived across from you. The only correct solution you could come to? Getting black out drunk.

Somehow you ended up in your apartment building, blinking at the elevator buttons as you lean your head against the wall in an attempt to stabilize yourself.

“Now what are you doing out so late missy? Work keep you again?” The voice of Mrs. Day sounds out, a small touch on your shoulder as she and another figure enter the elevator. You couldn’t concentrate on either of them.

“I…. wenf ou…. The bwar… bwar… ber.. I went-tt to the b-” At some point you give up, eyebrows pinching together as you point to the buttons on the elevator. You miss your button, sliding down the wall.

A hand shoots out to catch you before you hit too hard, making sure you land softly before pressing the level you needed.

“Oh dear, back in my day girls never went to the bar.”

“Screw you Mrs. Day.” You blurt quickly before you realize what you said and your hand slaps over your mouth. A deep chuckle sounds out as you shake your head. “No. I didn’t say that.”

“She didn’t.” Someone mumbles. “It was someone else.”

“It was someone else.” You agree.

The elevator dings and the old woman scurries off as you close your eyes and lean against the wall. “I’m gonna sleep here.”

“You okay?”

“I’m gonna sleep here. This is where I sleep now.” You slur out, waving your hand around with your eyes still closed as the elevator closes again and you lay back down. You actually manage to haze out a bit before a ding sounds out again and someone puts their hands under your shoulders and lifts you easily.

“I live on the 5th- go to bed.”

“Okay. I gotcha.” The voice huffs out a laugh, carrying you easily before they get to a familiar door. “You gotta key?”

“Nooooo.” You giggle, opening your eyes a little wider. “It’s unlocked.”

“No, it isn’t. You sure you don’t have a key?”

“No key. Call me if you need let in and I’ll be there, okay?” You mumble, pulling out your phone and lifting it to your ear. “I’m on my way to unlock the-”

But before you can finish your sentence a wave of nausea hits you, you lurch forward quickly and hit your forehead on the door harshly, sliding down the wall and onto the floor below.

“Okay. Okay. Take it easy.” The deep voice hums out, and you are lifted once more before they walk across the hall and unlock their own door easily.

You are wrapped with the deep scent of a calming earthen scent, with a bit of a licorice scent that makes you giggle out. “Licorishhhhh.”

“I’m gonna set you down on the couch, okay?”

“I love licorice. Just so you know.” You continue before being set down, without question you curl up on the couch in a small ball.

“There is a glass of water by you and a trash can. But the bathroom is down the hall. Okay?”

“Is it raining?”

“Yeah, just started.”

“I don’t like when it rains.” You whisper out, a blanket put over you gently before you pass out fully.

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was

Making fun of you

But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Bucky was torn between hiding out in his room until he heard you wake up and run, but the other half of him wanted to keep camped out in the main window area to make sure you were okay. From the spot you had passed out on the couch it was the perfect vantage point for any sniper, even with the newspaper he had.

So, after hours of deliberation, he ended up on the floor by the windows, facing you as he slept on the floor. The surprise came when he himself passed out, on the floor by the windows.

He slept without a single nightmare, the image of your drunken smile keeping him sated.

He only wakes up when the sound of feet padding across the floor sounds out, sitting up quickly right as he hears your body crash onto the bathroom floor before you retch into the toilet. A grimace pulling at his face as he tries to zone it out before shuffling around and standing to trudge to the kitchen.

He starts a pot of coffee, grabbing a couple eggs from the fridge and shuffling to the stove. Making as much noise as he can when you come waddling out, your head twisting around the corner with wide eyes as he turns to attempt a smile.

Your face falls slack and you turn quickly.

“Wait! Wait. Just take a second.” He rushes, holding out both his hands as you dash to grab something to hold over your head. “Please don’t throw that.”

“I’ll scream! If you’re here to kill me I’ll scream!” You rush out, stepping back, tripping over the blanket that he had thrown over you last night and nearly falling back.

“I could have killed you last night and I didn-” He stops short as he realizes that is a terrible point to make. “Okay. Hold on, wait. Just- I can make you eggs and or coffee. Or both, you don’t have to choose. You can have both. Anything you want.”

“Why am I here?!”

“You.. you were drunk and didn’t have a key okay?”

“It’s under my door mat- WHY AM I TELLING YOU THAT?!” You blanch, stepping back again. “What is this thing? It’s weird.”

“It’s an old radio….. I stole it.”

“You stole it?”

“I stole it.”

“From where?”

“The….. my exhibit at the…. It was mine so technically I didn’t steal it and just took it back. It’s fair.” He can’t fight the heat filling his body as you take a look around, mouth falling open as you finally take everything in. “My sister gave it to me for my birthday the year before…”

“My sister got me a radio once.” You mumble. “Well it was this princess cd player thing that played the soundtracks of princess movies. I wore down the mulan cd so much that my dad pretended to sit on it and break it because he couldn’t handle hearing the skip in the songs anymore.”

“Was your sister here the other day?”

“What? No.” You huff and he feels his chest loosen up a little bit when you seem to relax. “My sister is gone. My whole family is…..”

And just like that he watches your eyes harden again, your spine tensing as you glare. “So I got drunk and you brought me here.”

“Yes.”

“And you slept in the same room?”

“That’s where I always sleep. It’s… the best spot to hide from snipers and it’s in the corner so no one can sneak up on me.” He answers. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t choke on your puke too. Do you want eggs?”

Then what did you do?

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

Did you wish you put up more of a fight

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch ...her?

It's just a question

If someone had told the seven year old you that you would be sitting across from the Winter Soldier on his dining room floor eating scrambled eggs and chugging straight coffee as you both played a round of 20 questions.

“I’m sorry, who drinks straight coffee? No sugar or milk or- this is bad.”

“You want to waste your question on that? You sure?” He asks, leaning to pour you more coffee.

“No! No. I…. why did you steal the radio back?”

“Because it was the last thing my sister gave me. And I just found out she died in a nursing home…. alone .” He shrugs, scratching at his forehead. “And…. it’s mine. They are displaying my stuff in a museum.”

“Must feel a little weird.” You nod. “They are actually displaying a gun you used in the smithsonian, the JFK shooting.”

“That’s not me. Well it is but….”

“Can I ask…. about…… “ You want to ask, so desperately, but you don’t want to piss him off. Not to mention that you hated when people asked you about your past.

“I don’t really want to…. “ He mumbles. “But I think that you must have questions and I do owe you answers.”

“Do you remember everything?”

“No. Not at all. Which might sound cowardly when I say I’m thankful for that. They kept me in their trance.” He answers, moving to give you more eggs before you shake your head. “I…uhm - well when I moved in and you recognized me I searched you up. The person who… for lack of better term the person who used me for the task, well I got them arrested when I got out. He was the 4th person on my list.”

“Have….” You go to ask another question about his years as the soldier before you see the look in his eyes, the nervous energy leeching off of him. So you switch, giving him a break. “You ever been to rome?”

“No. Have you?” He asks back, a look of relief on his face.

“No. But I always wanted to. There is this exhibit at the museum wh- shit. I gotta go.” You realize, moving to snatch your purse. “Oh my god I have work. I’m sorry for leaving a mess. Thank you for….”

You stop short, realizing you are thanking the man that killed your family, blinking slowly as a wave of guilt washes over you. What would they say? They would be so disappointed in you.

“I have to go.” He doesn’t say anything as you dash out.

Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that

Meteor strike?

And what's that, that I heard, that you're still with her

That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable

And right

But tonight..

The building you work in looked more like a morgue in Bucky’s humble opinion, but he tried to get that image out of his head as he walked through the front door.

He didn’t know why he was here, but for some reason he was drawn to you, and he just wanted to be near you. The game of questions you had played this morning had been…. Fun. He learned a lot about you. He now knows your favorite color, dream vacation destination spot, your weird dreams about the titanic.

“Good morning, do you have your badge?” The front desk asks, smiling at him.

“Oh… uh no. Sorry. I don’t work here.” He blushes, coming up to the desk. “My friend does.”

That was a blatant lie, he was sure you would not consider him a friend but he was gonna give it a shot. But a moment of fear passes through him that she might recognize the lie.

“No problem. Can I see you I.D. and the name of the person you’re here to see?” She hums out and he nods, pulling out his I.D. and muttering your name.

“Oh! You are here for her! She is the best. The only one that wishes me good morning and actually shows me her badge.” The girl gushes, moving to the phone and dialing an extension. “Hey this is Maya from the front desk. You have a visitor here… yes…. James Barnes?”

Her eyes widen for a second and she turns back to Bucky. “She doesn’t recognize the name-”

“Try Bucky Barnes.”

“Okay, Bucky Barnes.” She smiles through the phone and then nods before hanging up. “She will be down in one moment.”

“Great. Thanks.” He attempts an easy smile even though his stomach is in waves, trying to even out his jacket as he waits for you to come down. His chest clenched in a panic as he tries to calm himself down, taking a deep breath and keeping his metal hand in his pocket so the receptionist doesn’t see it from where she is still staring at him from her desk.

“How long have you worked here?” He asks after a moment, trying to release some of the awkward tension in the room.

“Three years. I was a temp for the first couple months but now I am full time.” She explains, fixing her hair nervously. “So are you two dating? Because, not to be weird or anything, you two would be so cute.”

“Oh, no we just live in the same-”

“And she is just so nice. And you seem nice too so-” Before she can keep going in you appear from the elevators with wide eyes, your badge swinging from side to side as you march towards him.

“Hi Maya.” You mumble out at the last second, shooting her a quick smile which makes the girl beam. Before she can say her reply you are turning back to him with those same wide eyes and snatching his elbow to lead him outside.

“Are you crazy? Do you know how many pr people are in this building and will send a bunch of paps after you.” You snap, blinking up at him as he tries to come up with a decent reason as to why he is here.

“I… okay well I figured you would need to leave for lunch so I came to get lunch with you.”

“If you forget about the fact that it involved a little bit of stalking then that would be nice.” You huff, shaking your head from side to side before shrugging. “I get to pick.”

“You know the area best.”

“I get to ask questions.”

“Sure. “ He answers, though he begins to get nervous, his mouth going dry. If you kept looking at him with those eyes he would answer anything, no matter what.

“Awesome, starting with the big questions.” You smile, leading him down the sidewalk as he clears his throat to try and remain cool. “How long does it take you to clean the arm?”

Relief washes through him as he follows your lead down the street, smiling a bit.

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was

Making fun of you

But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?

You had no clue what you were doing, guilt and shame coated your every move as you walked with Bucky through the market, watching a mix of people turn to glare or smile at him.

It was weird, weeks ago you would have been one to glare, hell you had glared at him through your tv hundreds of times. And here you were, walking beside him like you were the closest friends in the world as he searched for plums.

Your days were spent questioning each other, all light stuff when the sun was out. If you were born in any other century what would it be? Do you think you’re more of a sunshine or moonlight person?

Then when the sun goes down the questions turn deep. You learned about his memories as the Winter Soldier, you came clean about that night in your memories.

You were betraying your family, by falling for this man you were betraying your family. It was the one thing that had been bothering you for the past 3 weeks.

Like right now, when the biggest urge you were fighting was to grab his hand and hold onto it as you both moved to avoid bumping into people, your palm sweating as he sent a quick look your way to make sure you’re okay before moving to a stall that had plums.

“Are you okay today?” He asks, feeling around for the perfect plum as you pick up the jars of honey not too far off.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You lie, setting the jar down and moving towards him to avoid talking to the worker, your hand catching on his lower back before you snatch it back. “How many plums do you need?”

“I. Like. Plums.” He scoffs. “Would you rather be a bee or a flower?”

“Flower, 100 percent.”

“That was….. A really quick answer.” He smiles, paying the stall worker before, leading you both away. “I would want to be a bee.”

“You would be a bitch of a bee. You would not last a day as a bee.”

“I’m sorry?!”

“Not a day.” You laugh, throwing the bag you had been carrying around over your shoulder as he looks a little closer at you.

“You want to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

“You ever feel guilty… for like you family?” You blurt, eyes welling up. “Like you’re disappointing them?”

“Because you’re friends with me?” He asks, his voice tight.

“Are we friends?” You blurt, it’s not meant to come out that way, but it’s the first time you’ve heard him reference you both as friends. But the second his face falls you realize your mistake. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like- wait.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it.” He snaps out, keeping his eyes away from you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait. No. Okay just give me a chance to explain here.” You rush out, trying to stop him from walking away. “This has been a big adjustment, weeks ago I hated you. Okay? You killed my family so I’m sorry that this was-”

Someone bumps up into him from behind, and you have to take a step back to avoid hitting him, his eyes narrow at the movement as you blink at him. His lips curl as his head tilts, and he blinks.

“I… I remember you.” He whispers, hands clenching. “You were wearing alien pajamas.”

“You remember?”

“I…” And it was a remake of that night, you both staring at each other with his eyes narrowed and you getting ready to bolt. He looked green.

And then he bolts, dashing from you so quickly you barely have time to blink.

Then what did you do?

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

Did you wish you put up more of a fight?

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch ...her?

It's just a question

He couldn’t breathe, something was bursting in his chest and it was painful, so fucking painful.

He knew you, that hatred and fear in your eyes brought everything back. The night, when you were just a child and he had….. He had… He was going to pass out.

His door slammed into the wall so hard it left a dent in the plaster before he slammed it shut again and dashed to his room to snatch his duffel. He needed to go, he needed to leave. Find somewhere else to be, anywhere away from you.

He was a monster.

He hears the door swing open, your footsteps following and you come into view soon after, your eyes wide as he continues packing.

“Bucky. I’m sorry.” He breathes out, snatching a shirt before you come into view and snatching the shirt before it can hit the duffle bag. “Please, just give me a chance. Buck, I am sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry.” He grounds out, moving to grab something else. “I’m sorry.”

“Buck.” You try again, moving to grab his shoulders to stop him.

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Bucky, come on.” You snap, wrapping your arms around him to get him to stop. “Please don’t. Can we just talk about this. We can figure this out.”

“I…. I can’t.”

“20 questions. Let’s play 20 questions.” You rush out.

“No, let’s not. No more questions. We’re done here.”

“No we’re not.” You snap out, wrapping your legs around his like a koala so he would stop trying to run away. “Would you rather be a tie or a bra?”

“I’m sorry?” “A bear or a tiger?”

“That is terrible. A bra, and a bear.” He huffs, trying not to look at you.

“20 questions. You can’t leave now that we’ve started the game.” You mumble, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“That’s the dumbest thing I have ever hear-” He stops when you lean up to press your lips to his softly, your eyes closing as his entire body tenses for a moment before completely melting into it, his hands moving to thread through your hair.

You moan when he deepens the kiss and his heart just about stops before he tears away. “I never thought….”

“Neither did I.”

You play 20 questions every night, sitting together on your shared living room floor, with whatever show he wanted to catch up on playing in the background.

He plays with your hair from where your head lays on his chest, humming softly.

“Would you rather be a plum or a grape?” You whisper, fingers tracing a pattern on his pajama pants.

“Plum.” He answers quickly, tugging your ear which makes you gasp.

“I was so close to falling asleep.” You groan, slapping his hand away. “You are such a pain in my ass.”

“But you love me.”

“That I do.” You hum, moving to sit up. “Your question.”

“Would you….. Will you….” He clears his throat, sitting up straight as you give him a weird look. “Will you marry me?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #marvel smut #marvel imagine #marvel angst #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier smut #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier x reader

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Sweet Nothing - Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Authors Note : I cannot believe this is only the second piece I had ever written for him because I loved him! This sat in the drafts a litte too long if you know what I mean.

Word Count: 3519

Warnings: - none I believe -

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @topgundaily )

x Enjoy! x

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

It’s a weird feeling, knowing that you were so close to the end and not being ready for it. You wanted to dig your heels in the mud and fight away from the finish line, drag yourself back to the start. What you would give to go back to the beginning when it was still so sweet and happy.

But you weren’t in a race, and you couldn’t fight your way away from the finish line this time. No, right now you are laid out across the bed of your guest room with the love of your life avoiding you downstairs. The end is coming. You both knew it, you just weren’t ready.

You had been warned over and over, from your friends to your parents and you knew his own group had warned him as well. You should have listened. But you both thought you could beat the odds.

He took you to the lake for a date, a fact that made your friends giggle amongst each other as you rushed around to get ready. Braiding your hair at first before panicking and not liking it so you rushed to brush through as your best friend chose the best bathing suit for you to wear and they all talked about your date.

“-He is so cute. And he blushes whenever you are close, which is so cute.” Veronica smiles, playing with your waterproof mascara as your brush snags on a nasty knot in your hair and makes you gasp in pain.

“Are you sure about this? He is a military man. We have the no dating military rule for a reason.” Samantha snaps, her eyes laid with mistrust and her body rigid as she leans against your wall. “I don’t want to get a call in the middle of the night of you crying to escape.”

That made you panic slightly, you knew Bob and he was always so sweet but how many females had fallen for the sweet act before. He was military and Samantha herself had gone through a military marriage that led to a broken cheek and nose, you had been the one to give her a place to stay.

“It will be fine.” You shrug. “I have a good feeling.”

And you had been right, he took you to the lake and you both swam around for hours. He braided your hair when you got out so it didn’t get knotted and tangled from the lake water. You stayed huddled together in his car for warmth as you ate the greasiest burgers you could and laughed about the day you had.

“I had a lot of fun today.” Bob blushes, fixing his glasses from where they were sliding down his nose as you smile at him. His cheeks were a little rosy from the sun and his knee was pressed to yours, his hair swept awkwardly. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” You answer, both your voices low as you stare at each other. “I loved it.”

“You ready to go home, then?” He asks, his cheeks reddening even more past the burn which makes you smile a little wider.

“Or we could…. Well we could go to your place.” You offer to be near him a little longer.

“I’d love that.” He smiles, moving to pull something out of the pocket of his swim trunks, placing it on the dashboard so he could start the car, and you blink at it.

“Did you have a rock in your pocket?”

“Yeah. I thought it was pretty and I wanted to keep a memory of today.” He says lowly, looking at you nervously. “Is that weird?”

“No. Not at all.” You laugh, leaning to kiss his cheek.

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

That little pebble from the lake still sat on his dashboard, the day he crashed his truck he made sure to grab it and keep it in his pocket. When he got his flier from the military he kept it on that dashboard now. He always carted it around in the air, saying it was his good luck charm.

The thought makes tears well up in your eyes as you drag yourself from the bed and shuffle around the room to get dressed for the day. It had been the very first time you slept without Bob, which meant you didn’t actually get any sleep and you were more than a little cranky. Tired, cranky and upset.

Not a good mix.

But you tried to keep it together while you got ready for the day, fixing your hair and slipping on shoes before heading downstairs to grab your bag and keys.

When your love sees you he casts his eyes away, rubbing at his chest as he makes himself look busy. “I made coffee if you need-”

It hurt to hear his voice, tearing at your chest as you snatch your work bag and keys before storming out of the house without any coffee. Just like that the feeling of betrayal is back, slashing at your heart and making you angry once more.

Even the sound of his voice upset you now.

Bob knew the news was not going to be delivered easily, waiting for you to get home from work with his leg bouncing wildly out of anxiety. You would leave, he knew it. Not that he would blame you, it would just tear him up through and through.

The front door stands and he rushes up, fixing his glasses and turning the corner to where you would still be taking off your shoes. “Hey.”

Your head snaps up at his greeting, smiling softly as you shuffle closer and lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek before you move to kiss his lips. You seem to read his body language then, the tight stance and the guilty way he doesn’t kiss back before you lean back and blink at him. “Everything okay?”

“I….. They are changing my… okay so you know how we always talk about how I might be restationed?” He mumbles, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “Well I… they are restationing me.”

“What? How long do you have?” You blink, fully pulling back from him. His hands catch on the bottom of your jacket, trying to keep you close and failing when you take another step back.

His face pulls in a grimace as he realizes that this is where the annoyance will kick in, where you will actually get mad at him. “I have about 2 weeks.”

“2 weeks! I’m sorry, repeat that because it sounds like you just said 2 weeks.” You snap, blinking at him as your face begins setting into anger. “Aren’t they supposed to give you more time? Why would they make this so short?”

“Well I found out… a month ago. I just didn’t know how to explain and I wanted to find an apartment that might work before I told you.”

“What do you mean, might work?!”

“For us. An apartment that would be big enough for us-”

“You expect me to drop my entire life in 2 weeks?!” And before either of you knew it there was a fight brewing.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

You can’t really concentrate at work, your pen tapping on your desk a little too quickly, your coworkers beginning to look at you with odd glances.

The more you thought the more you began changing your mind. It’s not like you loved this job, you would be more than happy to give your two weeks. Hell, you would love to give your days notice. You would not miss this job nor would you miss any of your coworkers. You would however miss your friends and family.

But it’s not like phones didn’t exist, and it’s not like you couldn’t take vacations to come see them. But it still wouldn’t be the same, you would be tearing yourself away from your family and friends. Alienating yourself.

At the end of the day your options are narrowed down to leaving Bobby behind or leaving your life behind.

Would you be able to make that choice.

“Are you okay?” Your boss asks, coming to stand at your cubicle with a stern look. “I haven’t received any of the reports I needed from you in the past hour.”

“I…..” You blink, sitting up straighter, the photo of Bobby you have on your desk catching your eyes.

“Let’s talk in my office.” She snaps, nodding her head as you try to come up with a proper excuse to your behavior.

A month into the relationship and your friends still were a little skeptical of your boyfriend, but things were easy and you were in love.

Tonight you would be taking Bobby to your friends birthday party, which was a very important thing and your boyfriend was panicking. You were laying on his bed, watching him pace back and forth in his room as he tried to find something to wear.

“Does it look kiss assy if I match you? Because you look great but I don’t want your friends thinking I’m…. or maybe these jeans won’t work. How dressy is this party?” He panics, finally looking at you and fixing his glasses.

“I think you are stressing yourself out.” You mumble, patting the bed in front of you to call him over. He sighs, moving to sit by you with a grunt which has you crawling closer and laying your head in his lap. His fingers immediately comb through your hair as he smiles down at you.

“I know your friends don’t like me, I just want to impress them.” He blushes, shrugging his shoulders.

“They like you… they all just have thoughts on the military life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They are scared you’re going to try and marry me and drag me across the country away from them and everyone. It’s a valid fear.”

“So…. you…. Well….. “ He blanches, nodding his head before moving to stand up. “I’ll stick with the shirt that matches you and the jeans.”

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

The drive home was filled with shaky hands and tears, you had to pull over once and swipe at your cheeks, taking a second to catch your breath before you continued your drive home.

The house was dark, Bobby’s shoes gone and his key slot empty which meant he probably went to work or had some other stuff to take care of. You sighed in relief, thankful for at least a couple more hours before you would have to have this conversation with him.

Instead you went upstairs, grabbing the stuff you had angrily dragged to the guest room last night and putting it back where it belonged before you hid and called your mom.

Cowardly, you might add.

You were in tears by the time you slammed the door to the guest room, hands shaking as you screamed at him to leave you alone, your breathing ragged and torn.

How dare he? How dare he hide this from you and assume you would just up and leave? How dare he not tell you.

A little forewarning, a little more understanding. Anything more than this.

“Baby, can we please talk about this?” He asks through the door, a small thump telling you he laid his head on the door. “I…. we both knew this would happen. This doesn’t need to be this big of a deal.” “Go away. Just leave me alone.” You hated that he was right, that you had always known and had always been warned and yet still couldn’t imagine it.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

It had been a long day that had followed a long night, and he was tired.

All he wanted to do was crawl under your shared sheets and pull you into him, snoring in your neck the way you always complain about while laughing, tickling your sides and snoring loudly just to bother you a little more.

But after the fight he was sure you would still have a couple more issues to comb through. He understood, he did. The way he threw it at you was a bit much, and he should have told you sooner but he wanted to make sure everything was sorted before he brought it up. He wanted all his ducks to be in a row.

He was used to this life, you weren’t.

The house smelled like it normally does when he gets home, your key in it’s preferred spot and your shoes left by the door, but no you in sight which bothered him. He loved when you came to greet him and now the house just felt empty when he entered.

Calling your name once, another try, one last time before he sighs and moves to find you without taking his shoes off. He heads upstairs, moving through the halls easily in search of you. Something melting in his chest when he sees you curled upon his side of the bed with your face pressed into his pillow.

Shuffling closer and placing a kiss on the back of your head before closing the blinds to your shared room and making sure you are comfortable before heading downstairs and getting started on dinner. Concentrating on that rather than remembering your tear stained face from the night before.

There were hundreds of ways he could have handled the situation better, and he tried to do the right thing and ease you into it. But he still did the wrong thing.

He just wanted you, he just needed you.

Nothing else mattered to him.

“I can’t believe it.” You smile, from ear to ear, as you help him carry in the last of the boxes into your new shared townhouse.

He had gotten news that his leave would be extended another 2 years, which meant he didn’t have to leave you yet. You both chose to find a new place together after 7 months of dating and build a home together. He couldn’t be happier.

You were quick to set the box onto the kitchen table before dashing to jump into his arms which made him laugh loudly, nearly dropping you as he tripped up and ran into a wall. “What’s the first thing we do in our new place?”

“Oh there are so many options,handsome. We can cook dinner…. Or maybe set up our kitchen table properly…” You list off ideas, a mischievous glint in your tone. “Or we can fuck.”

He chokes on air, his cheeks tinting red as he blinks at you. “The last one. Definitely the last one.”

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

By the time you wake up you have no clue how long you slept. More than a little disoriented as you crawl from the bed and shuffle down the steps of your home, still wiping the sleep from your eyes as you keep tripping on your way to the kitchen.

He’s got his back to you as he hums, cooking over the stove, and the sight alone makes your eyes well up in tears. It had been almost 3 years with him, living together and building a life together.

He doesn’t have time to turn as you dash to him, tears falling freely as you wrap your arms around him and cry into the shirt on his back, clutching the fabric between your fingers as he tries his best to hug back. “Hey hey. Take it easy.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” You sob, keeping him held tight.

“It’s fine. We’ll figure it out.” He whispers, finally getting the perfect spot to turn and hug you back. “I can make trips down here, any time I get days off I can try to get back here. You don’t have to give up your life for me.”

“No.”

“Come on baby. We can’t just drop this.” He pleads, trying to move you both to the table so you can sit and have conversation. “I can’t lose you. I know we were both aware of this coming but it’s different now that it is here.”

“I quit my job.” You blurt, making him blink at you. “I quit and already called my mom to tell her. I’ll be going with you.”

He can’t stop blinking at you, his heart stopping in his chest. “You didn’t have to…. You didn’t have to do that. I could have made the trips-”

“I don’t want to. I want you near all the time. I can’t live without you so if you’re being shipped to some stupid ocean side town then I will come with you and learn to swim.” You mumble out.

“You can swim.”

“Yeah…. In stillwater.” You laugh, the tears still falling. “I’ve given you 3 years. I’m not giving up now.”

“I know you don’t want this life ,marriage and being carted around.” He sighs. “But I was too selfish to let you go. And I can’t do that. I can’t let you go.”

“Is that what you think? That I don’t want to marry you?”

“Well your friends always sai-”

“I would love to marry you….. Okay you will actually have to ask me, this is not a proposal.”

“Okay, just take a breath.” Bobby laughs, watching you shake in the seat of his cockpit. “It’s just flying.”

“I’m not going in the air.” You snap a little too aggressively, the panic of being in the seat beginning to get to you. It was too high already, and you did not know how he did this on a day to day basis. “Let me out.”

“Okay, hold on. Take a deep breath with me now baby and just relax.” He orders, rubbing your arm comfortably. “Take a breath. You’re okay. Just take a look.”

You do what he says and take a deep breath in, looking around his cockpit before you spot the small rock from your first date sitting under the sun on the dashboard. “You still have that?”

“Of course.” He laughs, reaching past you to grab it before beginning to point and show you all the cool things in the cockpit.

They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming)

Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something)

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving)

You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming)

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The new place had a weird energy.

You were still getting used to not being so close to your family and days at the beach were not as amazing as you dreamed them to be. Bobby was a part of a ‘secret team’ and his days were pretty packed with a high paced training schedule at first so there were many days you were left alone to figure out what to do.

You ended up getting another job, this one you liked a little more than the last but it was still so new to you.

It would take you a while to get used to everything which was fine, you had never had to move like that before but it would all be fine.

But today Bobby got time off, which you made sure would be spent well. Dressing up in a great outfit and driving out to the stadium to scream Taylor Swift at the top of your lungs.

By the time he drags you home you have drunkenly decided that the poster you got from the Eras tour might help you liven your new house with. Bobby agrees, smiling from ear to ear as you hang it up lopsided, knowing that if it makes you happy then he will 100 percent get more for every room of the house.

You fall asleep in his arms, letting him whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

#top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #top gun angst #top gun fluff #top gun fanfic #robert floyd smut #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd angst #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fluff

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

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Anti-hero - Roy Kent

Authors Note : Based off a request I got {Could you do a Jamie or Roy fic with a girl who feels self conscious as their date to a gala or something? Lots of fluff and comfort! If you don’t want to write it, no worries 💜} A quick reminder that you are all beautiful and truly wonderful. You all deserve the world, and I hope you all find your own Roy Kent. -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: 3,997

Warnings: self doubt. curse words

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @50shadesofpemberlypost )

x Enjoy x

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

It had been an issue for years, one that was directly caused by your mother.

It’s not that she was a villain, and it wasn’t like she knew she was doing it anyways, it was always something that just managed to slip out of her mouth in passing moments . A quick ‘that shows your back fat’ there and a ‘are you sure you like that color? It washes you out baby’. Always said with that tone that made you rethink every decision in life.

She did it out of love.

But the comments she made built up, that and the pressure of school and social media building up. It all took a toll on you. You found your life mixed with new issues. Anxiety, self-doubt, depression, and you became a new person.

It was like a shadow version of you, one that tracked how much she ate and thought about how loud she laughed and how much was too much talking. Every single move you made was tracked and overthought.

But then Roy came into the picture.

At first you did what you usually did, you tried to speak low and not draw too much attention. Tracking how much you laughed and how much you ate. It was fine because your friend group never really realized it, they didn’t know a thing was out of place. But Roy, who had been brought by his sister, was quick to call it out.

“Fucking stop that.” He muttered when you tried to fix your skirt, using his hand to slap yours away. “You look fucking perfect. Take a breath, yeah?”

“I just…. I’m debating the color, everyone else wore pastels and I hadn’t realized that it would be that type of party.” You admit, body hot with embarrassment as a group of girls pass you at the party. But that was the least of your worries, you had eaten too much cake and had tripped on the stairs in front of your friends. Could everyone see your makeup on your neck? Were they laughing at you-

“Do you overthink everything?” Roy blurts, catching your elbow to pull you back gently as a waiter with a heavy tray passes by. “Because I’ll tell you right now that you’re the prettiest fucking woman at this party.”

“You can’t say that at someone’s birthday party.” You laugh, stepping closer to him without realizing. “That’s one of the biggest rules. It’s like saying someone is prettier than Aphrodite. Next thing you know that person will be cursed to marry your father because the goddess hates you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s…. Greek mythology. I’m not going to marry my dad. It… okay. I’ve ruined this so I am just going to-” You move away quicker than he can follow and you think that it was over. But you had not known just how determined Roy Kent was.

Soon enough he was taking you out, one date became 4 which led to a relationship. 10 months in and you were the happiest you had ever been. He saw you, in every outfit and every mood and every way, and he loved you just as you were.

But there was something you didn’t expect, the amount of attention that would come with dating a professional football player. It was a whole new demon in itself.

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)

Lunches with your mother were the worst, and yet you loved her more than anything. Today she chose an extremely fancy restaurant dressed in a Valentino outfit and her makeup to perfection as she cut her salad up with her fork and knife.

“Oh this is dreadful.” She sighs, shaking her head. “There is barely any chicken in here. This is insane. Do you see chicken?”

“There is chicken.” Roy shrugs, narrowing his eyes a bit. Lunches with them were always such a weird dynamic considering they were exact opposites. Your mother looked for drama, she thrived off of arguing. Roy chose brutal honesty, he worked best on shutting arguments down before they could even start. “It’s right there.”

“Oh, baby that is a terrible color on you.” She huffs, sitting the plate back down and turning her glare on you as her hand raises to call the server over. “It washes you out. What have I told you about-”

“She looks fucking stunning today.” Roy scoffs, blinking slowly.

“It’s fine.” You whisper to him, trying to defuse the situation.

“No, it’s not.”

“Now I read somewhere that there is a big fundraiser gala coming up, it was in the paper. I assume you both will be attending.” Your mother begins, smiling when the server starts heading over. “You should let me dress you darling. I know how you get anxious about that all and I want to make sure you look your best.”

“She’ll look bloody fantastic in anything-”

“Oh you finally decided to serve your table.” Your mother interrupts him, talking to the server and completely disregarding your boyfriend.

He takes a moment to lean over to you, catching your eyes. “I’m about to stab my fork into my fucking eye.”

“I know.” You smile, leaning in closer to kiss his cheek which makes him growl a bit at the pda but you see the smile he fights off anyways. “We’ll be gone soon.”

“You look great and the dress you pick will be fantastic. Don’t listen to her.” He gruffs out.

“Have you seen those posts of you two? They were commenting on your age difference and I just want you to know that I do not think you are too immature for him. Truthfully honey I am proud, I never thought you’d make it with someone so accomplished. I mean it’s not like you had many prospects.” She laughs as the server sends Roy a wide eyed look while taking her plate away leaving the table once more.

“That’s it.” Roy snaps, slamming his silverware down on the table and pointing his finger at her. “You watch how you speak to her. She’s perfect. And she will be a bombshell at the gala.”

Your mothers face flushes, blinking at him slowly as Roy goes back to his meal like nothing happened while you fight off a smile, your foot rubbing his calf under the table in a silent thank you before you try to pull it back only for his legs to slam shut keeping your foot held there.

He sends you a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth curves up and you know that was his way of showing his love so you take it, smiling right back at him.

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

The dress you chose for the gala was perfect, you were excited to wear it and truthfully you were excited about the whole thing. This would be the first event you had ever attended with the Richmond team in the public eye, and you wanted to make a good impression.

But your mothers words from the years rang through your head constantly as you waited for their practice to end, leaning against the wall in the hallway as you thought about everything.

“Oh! Hello.” A angelic voice rings out, pulling your attention to Rebecca Welton coming down the hallway, making you stand up quickly.

“Ms. Welton! Hi, hello, hey…. I’m saying hi in too many ways.” You blush, moving to shake her hand. “It’s great to see you again.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Are you waiting for the boys?”

“I am, yeah. My car is in the shop so I need a ride.”

“Oh lovely, will I be seeing you at the gala? I have been planning it for weeks, my ex husband used to plan it. The wanker.”

“I’ll be there. I just hope I dress well enough.” You laugh slightly, but her eyebrow raises and you panic slightly. Did everyone on this team just see right through all your shit?

“You’ll look perfect. I wish I still had a figure like yours.”

“ANGEL!” Someone calls out before you are lifted into the arms of Danny Rojas, kissing the side of your face as he swings you around.

“Alright. Set her down, will ya?” Roy snaps, coming around the corner and rubbing his knee as Danny sets you down quickly, kissing your cheek one more time before heading away. You lean forward and rub Roy’s knee right where you know he feels the most pain.

“Is it hurting a lot?” You mumble, as he pulls your hand away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, I just don’t want to moan in the middle of this hallway. Let’s go home?” Before you can even answer he is grabbing your bag and moving to take you to the car.

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Pierced through the heart, but never killed

Roy was in a shit mood the day of the gala, slamming cupboard after cupboard. You knew he was irritated about having to dress up and see the reporters that used to write about him all the time, and you knew in moments like this it was best to let him work through it. But sometimes you just couldn’t stay away.

Shuffling closer, in his shirt, you wrap your arms around his center and shove your face into his back. He huffs out as he keeps swiping the sponge against the counter, but he doesn’t push you away so you take a chance and kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s going to be okay. What they say about you doesn’t matter.”

He sighs out, letting go of the sponge before turning around in your arms and wrapping his own around you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You were young and they were assholes for that…. So fuck them.”

“Fuck them.” He repeats.

“You’re going to walk by them in your fine ass suit with your fine ass body-”

“Please don’t objectify me.” He mumbles, but a smile is already on his lips as he leans down to kiss you deeply before pulling back. “And I will have the brightest fucking gem with me tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon.” You blush, trying to pull back but his arms are tight around you.

“I think we need to fuck.” He huffs kisses at your face again.

“Don’t be so crass!” You laugh, trying to escape him and shuffling you both to the bedroom right as your phone rings. “It’s my mother.”

“No. Don’t answer.”

“I have to, or she’s gonna be mad.” You answer back, watching his face turn dead serious as he looks at you. His hands come up to rub at your jaw.

“You listen to me you little rat.” He mumbles, you fighting back a laugh at the nickname. “Don’t listen to a word she says, because you are beautiful.”

“I won’t. I promise.” You promise, kissing his lips deeply and losing yourself to the kiss for a moment before he pulls back and shuffles to continue cleaning the counter. You swipe your thumb across the screen and mumble out a “Hello mother.”

“Oh you’re there! I thought you were about to ignore my call.” She snaps through the phone.

Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

(For the last time)

You broke your promise, and you let your mother get the best of you.

Her words from earlier bounce around your mind as you get ready. You debate whether or not your hair looked healthy as you spray hairspray across it. Did it look greasy? Untamed? Could they see your split ends?

Was your nail polish the wrong color? Was there a patch of hair on your legs that you missed? Did the dress color wash you out? Did you look too heavy? Was it too late to cancel?

“You look…. “ Roy blinks, coming up behind you to help zip the dress. “Fuck.”

“Is that good?” You ask, biting at your lip as he leans to kiss the nape of your neck.

“Good? You look bloody amazing.” He snaps, kissing your neck one more time before standing straight. “Now let’s go make money.”

“What are we fundraising for? I never looked into it?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

“Right.” You laugh, turning with your hand in his as he kisses your knuckles softly. “Then let’s go make money for whatever needs money.”

“Make a fortune.”

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Your lip was worn down from the amount you had been biting it.

Walking up to the gala you saw a red carpet with dozens of flashing cameras and begin to panic as you get closer, your hand tightening in Roys as he stands straighter. You would not be able to handle the cameras and see your picture all over the internet. What would people say? They would trash you, oh how bad would it be?

But Roy, ever the perfect man, simply held your hand tight and walked across the red carpet with a confidence that made your skin hot. He muttered to each that called his name, his voice deep and uncaring. “No. No. Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck no.”

A smile blooming across your face as you let him lead you into the building where everyone is walking about with drinks in their hand.

“I’m going to go get us drinks. Your usual?” He asks, waiting for your nod before heading in the direction of the bar leaving you standing there to take a look around.

You took your chance to look around at everyone around you, smiling at anyone you make eye contact with. The anxieties began rising, as every gorgeous female passed you in their perfect dresses. Was your dress cheap looking? Did you look pathetic?

You were caught up in your thoughts as Jamie approached with his date, a model that introduces herself with a hug that makes you sniff caramel, leaving you with a crater in your chest as you look at her perfection. Jamie talks about the gala, looking around at everyone as a flash makes you blink, all three of you turning to the person that just took your picture.

“The actual fuck?” Jamie scoffs, staring at him. “We were having a conversation, ye?”

“Sorry.” The man nods, moving to walk off and bumping into Nate with another apology. “Didn’t see you.”

“Hi Nate.” You smile, trying to seem calm when he walks up. “You look great.”

“Thank you! Mr. Lasso actually bought me this suit.”

“Who?” You blink, trying to see who he had been talking about. It wasn’t meant to be a snappy or snide comment, you had yet to be introduced to the new coach and the name didn’t ring a bell at first. But the second you saw the man with the mustache owning the crowd not far off you knew who Nate was talking about.

But when you turn back to Nate you see a glare set on his features, his cheeks a little red as he blatantly looks away from you. “You look great, Jamie. You as well Keeley.”

Then he walks off, bumping into you harshly as he passes which makes the blonde look at you with wide eyes as Jamie excuses himself for another drink.

“Oh, that was extremely rude of me. I shouldn’t have asked about the coach- that was-”

“What are you talking about?” She blinks, looking extremely confused. “You didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Here you are.” Roy grunts, handing you the chilled glass. “Keeley.”

“Hello Roy.” She smiles before Jamie whistles to pull her over.

“Did he just call her like she was a dog?” You ask Roy as she walks over, and he shrugs.

“He’s a wanker. Always has been and always will be.” Roy grunts out, rolling his eyes. “He doesn’t ever pass the ball. And he is a massive tool. You should hear some of the things he says to-” He begins to explain as you try to smooth out your dress before his hand shoots out to stop you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Your answer was too quick, his eyes narrow and he catches it.

“What happened?”

“I just…. I think I upset Nate because I asked to Lasso was and I didn’t mean to and everyone here looks amazing. But I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Did that little fuck say something?”

“No. It’s fine Roy. Everything is fine.” You smile, leaning forward to kiss his lips which he allows before moving back and holding his hand knowing he doesn’t like pda. “Let’s go find our seats?”

I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from hell"

“Hello Roy, you handsome devil you.” A southern voice rings out, walking up to where you and Roy were seated together. “And what pairs so well with a handsome devil? An angel.”

“The devil is technically… well historically the devil is an angel.” You blush, immediately feeling stupid as the fun fact slips from your lips. “Well, I mean- I’m sorry that was stupid.”

“Stupid? Absolutely not. I feel ashamed that I didn’t know it.” He laughs, leaning to shake your hand. “My name is Ted, all my friends call me Ted which means you must.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you. Roy was telling me about all the new techniques at your practices.” You smile, making your boyfriend shake his head.

“I said nothing good.” Roy huffs.

“He said everything good.” You smile which makes Ted smile back.

“You both look fantastic. Have a drink on me, since it’s an open bar.” Ted jokes, moving to walk away as Roy places his hand on your lower back.

“Why the fuck would you tell him that I said good things?” He huffs and your stomach drops.

“I’m sorry. It was just teasing and you do always say great things about him so-”

“Take it easy. You are fine.” He shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

You hadn’t noticed but your fists had clenched and your nails were digging into your skin, his own fingers were quick to make you release the hold and rub his thumb over the crescent marks left on your skin before bringing your hand up to kiss your palm.

“I thought you hated pda.” You whisper, leaning so your foreheads were pressed together as he pretended to roll his eyes.

“Fuck it. I have a gorgeous date and I deserve to kiss her in public.”

“Are you sure? It’s a big move for you.”

“Have you seen yourself? Prettier than the goddess aphrodite.” He smiles and your eyes widen.

“How. Dare. You! What have you done? I’m going to have to marry my dad now. Roy, how could you have done this to me?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I also cannot believe you remember that from almost a year ago.”

“Of course I remember.” He blinks. “That was the first conversation I had with the love of my life. Who would forget that?”

“Oh knock it off.” You mumble, shaking your head.

“Knock it off? Knock what off?” He snaps. “Do you realize how fucking lucky I was that day? The day you looked at me? My life was made. The second best day of my life.”

“Second?”

“Second. My niece’s birth is the first.”

“I’m fucking honored.” You laugh, smiling from ear to ear.

“Did you just cuss?”

“I did. I’m sorry. My mother would kill me.” You blush.

“Can I be honest with you for a second?”

“When are you not?”

“Fuck your mother.” He blurts, which makes your eyes widen. “I hate her. I think she is miserable and you are far fucking prettier than aphrodite and you don’t have to worry about the goddess making you marry your dad because I will be marrying you. No goddess or god could keep me from you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re stuck with me. And I need you to stop being to fucking mean to yourself. You hear me?” He asks seriously. “Because that’s the love of my life you are talking about.”

“I can try.”

“Good. Now lets get another round and wait this fucking gala out. Then lets go get actual food because I know you skipped lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile before a flash blinds you once more, making you both whirl to the man with the camera.

“You fucker-” Roy begins to stand as he dashes off.

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi, everybody agrees, everybody agrees

You both end up at a late night potato stand, sitting on one of their benches as you both laugh at the memory of the auction that had taken place.

“A fucking grandma bid on me. You know how embarrassing that was?”

“Hey! I bid on you too!” You laugh, body shaking from laughing so hard. “And Keeley!”

“Keeley was pissing that little wanker off.” He huffs, rubbing your thigh gently as you keep his blazer wrapped around you. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“Thank you for bringing me. I am sorry I upset Nate-”

“Stop saying sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He mumbles, leaning to dig his spoon into your baked potato and take a big mouthful of it. “Fuck. That is good.”

“You say that about anything I get! You always do this!” You laugh, pretending to pull the potato away.

“You always choose better!”

It's me, hi (hi), I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At tea (tea) time (time), everybody agrees (everybody agrees)

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

“Fuck!” You wake up to the sound of Roy yelling from the kitchen, rushing to wrap yourself in the sheet left on the bed from last night as your feet pad across the floor to find where he is at.

You find him sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, glaring at his laptop, until he sees you coming out of the bedroom in just a sheet.

“Fuck.” Unlike his last curse this one is said with a lusty tone, setting the coffee down as you come closer to the couch and move to sit by him.

“What’s got you so mad, handsome?”

“They posted a picture of me and they said I’m retired. What fucks.”

“Is it a bad idea? To be retired?” You ask, moving to straddle him before he can pull an attitude. “You would have more time with me. More time to hang out and cuddle and sleep and…. You can finish the rest.”

“.....Fuck.”

#roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent angst #roy kent fluff #roy kent smut #roy kent x reader #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso apple tv #ted lasso angst #ted lasso smut #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fic #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso fluff #roy kent ted lasso

145 notes · View notes

ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Pinky Promises - Chapter Two

Authors Note: Another Part in the series is up, I am very excited for their story.

Word Count: 8532

x Series Masterlist x

-Main Masterlist -

x Prev Chapter x

October 13th, 1977 - Thursday

“Both of you need to be on your best behavior.” Charlotte Fraser warns, watching as the two children in front of her give each other wide smiles that she knows firsthand will only cause trouble. “You hear me?”

They nod, staring blankly back at her before turning to each other and giving that same smile once more. Before she can call them on it another figure emerges in the kitchen, limping slightly as she laughs at the scene before her.

“Lottie, dear. They are just getting ready for the day. Take it easy on them.” Nana defends, coming to kiss her granddaughter's head lightly. “Are we doing pancakes for the birthday girl then?”

Everyone blinks, and Steve watches as Lottie tries coming up with an answer to her mothers question. But Ollie is quick to beat them too it.

“We already ate breakfast Nana. I wanted you to sleep because you stayed up late making my dress.” She smiles, spinning to show her the work she had done. “Thank you so much by the way.”

Nana blinks, looking at the clock before realizing what time it is and nodding slowly. “Right. I must have overslept. Silly me. Alright. Let me say goodbye at least.”

She kisses Ollie’s head, and then kisses Steves before limping off to find where Wiley ran off to in an effort to flee from his father and school. The second she turns the corner Lottie bends down to fix Ollie’s dress a bit and wipe some of the hair out of her daughter's hair. “You’re such a pretty birthday girl. Let’s get you to school.”

Steve watches in silence as Ollie runs to grab her backpack and Charlotte wipes the tears before everyone is being ushered out the door.

“I have your gift.” He mumbles to Ollie on the way to the car. “I’m giving it to you later.”

“Are you going to have dinner over here tonight?”

“My mom is going out with an old friend so yeah. That and I want to come celebrate your birthday.”

“I know.” She smiles, leaning to hug him. “You’re my best friend.”

“You're my best friend.” He sighs, hugging her back, nerves filling his body.

October 13th, 1983 - Thursday

“I am so irritated with you right now I can’t even begin to describe it.” Cece snaps, her hand slamming into the locker next to the one Via currently stood in front of, shuffling through to find her lighter as her friend went on a rant. “It’s not even worth arguing over.”

“Good because-“

“You know what? I changed my mind. It is worth arguing over because how dare you? How. Dare. You.” The brunette seethes, eyes narrowing as Via’s fingers finally wrap around the lighter and drag it out from the abyss of a locker. “I’ve been your best friend for how many years now?”

“4 I believe. Might be 5.”

“And this is the treatment I get?”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re mad at me because I accepted a shift tonight? I need money and Thursday nights are the best since it’s just a bunch of middle schoolers and their parents.” Via mumbles, exhaustion coating her every movement. It had been a rough couple nights, spent unable to sleep and so she crammed herself in that tiny desk and tried drawing or painting until she got tired enough to pass out at the desk until her father woke her up for school. All. Week.

“It’s your birthday, Olivia.” A couple people turn their heads to them at the tone which makes Via panic and shush her.

“Not so loud. Alaska can probably hear you.” They glare at each other for a moment, both unwilling to give up on their stances.

Finally, with a growl of frustration, Cece stomps her heel into the ground. “We should be celebrating tonight Via.”

“I need to work.” Via huffs, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension that had built up. “Besides, Hartson wasn’t really offering it. It was more of a ‘I need this shift covered so do it’. And so I agreed.”

“He can’t do that. That’s not legal is it? He can’t do that.”

“I’m not sure but it’s already been done so who cares-“ Before she can finish her sentence a body shoves into her, wrapping her in a hug that sends them both careening into the lockers by them.

“Gareth.” It’s a warning enough, but the brown haired boy doesn’t listen to Eddie and continues hugging Via with a big smile.

“You smell like fish.” She scoffs, trying to push him away.

“It’s my new deodorant. I call it sweat.” The fool smiles, lifting his armpit for her to smell which leads to her gasping and pushing him harshly. In their little scuffle they both accidently push into another figure that had been at her locker.

A soft grunt of pain could be heard as Barb dropped the books she was holding, making the group in front of her stop quickly.

“I’m sorry.” Gareth blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Barb nods, doing her best not to make eye contact.

Relatively Barb and the group before her sat at the same rank on the food chain of this school, barely making it by with Tommy Hagan. And yet their groups sat on opposite sides.

Via and her friends were considered ‘burnouts’ whilst Barb was considered….a ‘goody two shoes’ not that there was anything wrong with that. But it’s safe to say they all normally avoided each other.

“We didn’t mean to do that.” Via confirms, bending down to grab the books for her as the redhead keeps nodding.

“No it was me. I was in the way.” Barb tries a laugh, grabbing the books back from Vias outstretched hand slowly.

“Hey I saw you in the hall the other day while I was ditching. You told the teacher the wrong way when they asked where I went.” Eddie smiles, and Via watches in real time as her cousin does what he does best. Break tension and make people feel comfortable. “That was totally cool. You rock for that.”

Barb's face turns a deep red as she ducks her head a bit, fighting off a smile. “Oh that was nothing.”

“And that top is extremely cute.” Cece smiles, reaching forward to feel one of the ruffles between her fingers. “Have you ever seen Vogue magazine? It’s got a top that looks a lot like this-“

“I just got it from my moms closet if I’m being honest.” Barb admits. “It’s hard finding sweaters that fit me sometimes.”

“Oh here we go.” Eddie rolls his eyes, watching Cece’s face light up with excitement as Gareth groans out when she shoves him out of the way to get closer to Barb.

“I can make you something out of any sweaters you don’t like anymore. I actually think you would look so good in-“ As she starts going on and on Gareth groans again and Eddie reaches out to shove him and give him a death glare as Via shuffles to make her escape.

She normally waits until her free period to sneak out and smoke near the track field, it was the perfect time of day to do so. No student or teacher traffic, she didn’t have to worry about missing class and got the perfect amount of silence to work in her sketchbook. Not that she needed silence, she just liked letting her thoughts run free without anyone near.

She would miss math class, and her dad won’t like that call when he gets it later but she’ll say she wasn’t feeling well and lie about going to the nurse. It was her birthday after all. So she takes a sharp breath in and walks through the halls while patting her jacket to make sure she had everything she needed before taking the side exit out of the school and heading to the weird alley left between the gym building and the main building.

The gravel digs into her legs as she sits on the ground, shuffling around to get comfortable as best she could before dragging out her sketchbook and lighting a cigarette as she begins working.

Via liked to follow her instincts when it came to art, she trusted her imagination more than anything else, and it had never really caused a problem before. If a project wasn’t working then she moved on to the next.

But this one had been killing her, and she had no clue why.

It was a rough sketch, shadowed figures all huddled in the forest. There were four young boys, and Via kept seeing images of her brother flash in her mind as she detailed them out before she finally gave up and focused on the fifth figure but that was the thing that caught her the most.

She couldn’t tell if she had been drawing a boy or a girl, the images flashing in her mind were always hazy and undistinguished and yet it was so clear. The hospital gown that reached their knees, torn a bit on the right. The hair cut short, a sort of buzzcut that reminded her of Eddie back when he was in middle school. The nose was bleeding, but there was something on the wrist that she could never make out. A tattoo of sorts that-

“Are you smoking?!” An angry voice snaps her attention quickly, she had been so involved in the sketch that she didn’t even hear the person exit the gym, a soft curse falling from her lips as panic claims her, making her drop the cigarette to the ground desperate to stomp it out until she sees Steve there with his hands on his hips. “Really, Ollie?!”

“Someone needs to put a bell on you.” She snaps, her skin flush with heat as she tries to glare at him while he shakes his head gently. His face is puckered between amusement and shock, his eyes bright with something that makes Via nervous. “What? You going to run and snitch on me now?”

“First you shoplift-”

“So did you.”

“And now you’re smoking on school property. What? You buy eyeliner and suddenly feel like a bad girl?” His tone is teasing, but Via stays on edge. Teasing probably means his friends were soon to follow and she would become the butt of the joke.

She had to get out of here. Her eyes narrow in on his slow shuffling, like he was trying to move closer without her knowing. His shoulders tense and he is messing with the white towel balled up between his hands as he begins looking everywhere but her.

Without another thought she grabs the handle to her bag, keeping her sketchbook gripped in her hand as she gets ready to jump up and scram.

“Don’t you know those cause cancer?” He asks after an awkward moment of silence passes, laughing a little under his breath. She goes rigid, turning to glare at him rather than her exit.

“So does your hairspray, you don’t hear me raggin on ya.”

“My hairspray does not cause cancer.” He argues, eyes snapping to hers. “It is completely safe to use-”

“That’s such a lie, Harrington.” His face falls slightly at the last name, blinking as he nods. “What? I offend your hair?”

“I just can’t get used to my last name.” He admits, shrugging a bit.

“You’ve had it since you were born.”

“Yeah but you never used it.” And the silence that follows that sentence is deafening, it settles between them like a wall and Steve inhales quickly. “I just figured you would be the most cautious about cancer and-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps, sitting up quickly as his eyes widen in fear.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything-”

“You really want to bring up my nana, you little shit?!”

“I’m a little shit?! You’re a little gremlin!”

“Oh I’m a gremlin now?! Listen here you half baked ken doll, you are the most annoying person on this earth. You walk into a room and your ego sucks out all the air in it!” She stands to be at his height, the sketchpad dropping from her hand.

He’s quick to snatch it up, when she moves to snatch it back he turns his back to her and keeps it away. “If I’m a half baked Ken doll then you're a metal melted barbie.”

“Give it back Harrington.” She seethes, trying to jump over him to grab the book. Doing so she wraps her arms around him and just hangs from his back as he laughs. Dropping the white towel to reach his free hand up to hold her arm there so she doesn’t fall from his back. She reaches out once more, face heating as she catches a whiff of his overly priced cologne.

“Jesus, Ollie…via. This is really good.”

“Yeah, right. Okay.” She rolls her eyes, diving for the book once more. He slips a bit, and they both panic. She wraps her legs around him to stop from falling and he catches himself on the wall.

“Your dad said not to koala me!” He gasps, still gripping her arm to keep her up. “This isn’t fair.”

“Give me the book then!” “No!”

“Yes!” “I just wanna see it!”

“You are such a pain in the ass-”

“Who is the girl?” He asks before gasping for air a bit when her arm tightens around his neck as she begins sliding off. “Ollie-”

The strangled sound of his voice makes her let her legs to, moving to unravel her arms from his neck, too focused on what he said about the sketch to care about grabbing the book back. He keeps a hold on her arm though, and a part of her feels like he just wanted to keep her near him while the other part of her knows he’s getting ready to block her again.

“Girl? What makes you think it’s a girl?”

“The eyebrows? A random feeling? How am I supposed to know? You’re the artist.” He scoffs, keeping a hold on her elbow as he pulls the book closer to himself. “Is that…that’s Wiley right?”

“I…. don’t know.” She blinks, suddenly feeling way too exposed and snatching the book finally. “Just get on with the mocking already-”

“I’m not here to mock you-”

“Here, I’ll even get it started for you. ‘What are you doing in the alley you freak?’ or ‘It’s creepy to draw people you stalker’ or-”

“Can I have a cigarette?” He interrupts her, wiping his palms on his shirt as his eyebrows pinch together, a look of pain passing across his face so fast that she thinks she must have imagined it.

“And then I say something like ‘why don’t you go make out with a mirror you narcissist?’ and-”

“Olivia, can I please have a cigarette? Please?” He tilts his head, holding out a hand as she rolls her own eyes and reaches into her pocket to grab one for him. She freezes halfway through, blinking up at him with suspicion which makes him smile slightly. “I’m not trapping you to snitch.”

“Fine.” She pulls out the box and opens it to him, he is quick to snatch one, their fingers brushing together a bit which makes her pull her hand back quickly with a sneer, the heat from his touch rising up her arm and somehow sending chills down her spine.

“How bout a light?” He asks with it between his lips, hands on his hips as she pulls out her lighter and tries to hand it to him. After a moment of standing there she realizes he won’t grab it so with a huff she flicks it on and leans to light it for him. He shrugs and leans his head forward so she can light it while it’s still between his lips. A cocky smile spreads across his features. . “Remember when we used to talk about stealing our first cigarette from your dad when you hit high school?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Jackass.” Her words were supposed to piss him off, and she gets aggravated and annoyed when it seems to have the exact opposite reaction and instead drags a smile onto his face.

She didn’t understand why he was even bothering to bring it up, it obviously never happened. Whispering their plans of sharing their first cigarette and first drink had been useless. He had started his freshman year without her and somewhere along the way she had completely been dropped from his life.

Eddie’s warnings from middle school are still right there in her ear as she watches him now.

“I know you both are close but…. He’s not the person you think he is you know? He hurts people. You’re not like that.”

She hadn’t understood then, hadn’t been able to process that her very best friend in the world was a bully. But the second she moved up to the same school as him once more it all made sense. And the betrayal of finding out who he really was hurt like a bitch.

The apologies she had to give Eddie for not believing him tore at her chest.

As if he knows what she is thinking while she stares he awkwardly clears his throat before taking a drag from the cigarette and shuffling to find a spot.

After a few moments he leans against the brick wall, trying to seem relaxed as he smokes while she shuffles to the opposite wall, moving to pick up her bag and toss all her supplies in. The sketch pad is thrown in, and she fights a cringe when the pages bend against the other books but she’s too interested in getting the hell out of here.

“What are you doing today?” He asks after yet another minute of silence, his voice a little cracked, almost as if he was desperate to keep the conversation going before she could escape. Alarm rings through her, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to reveal what he actually needed.

“Oh just the usual, plotting your murder and then robbing a bank after school.” She scoffs, trying to fix the hair that had fallen out of her bun when she attacked him earlier. “Any requests? I’m partial to the throwing you down a well idea but I would also be willing to set you on fire.”

“Oh. Interesting. I think I’m gonna go with Plan B.” He smiles, shuffling closer once more and she finds herself trying to find something to say that would piss him off. Anything that might shred his heart the way he shredded hers, but the words get caught on her tongue whenever she thinks of something close. “Seriously, what are the big plans tonight? For Ollie’s birthday extraordinaire?”

There’s a bite to the words, and she tries not to scoff at it, noting the small tinge of jealousy.

“I have work. And I already told you not to call me that. ” She admits, shrugging a bit. Torn between dashing away and or staying near him. Why was it so hard to leave? She hates him.

“You work at the theater, right?”

“Yes? How did you know that?”

“I’ve seen you there. Not in a stalkerish way but like- you work the snack counter. Why are you working on your birthday? That is the biggest sin known to man. Especially in your family.”

“I…..” For a second the words almost tumble out, desperate to finally rant to someone about the situation. For a second it’s not Harrington and Via, rather than Ollie and Stevie and she feels the emotions hit her chest as she breathes in air for what feels like the first time in forever.

She wants to tell him that she hasn’t celebrated her birthday without her Nana before, and explain that her family had no money to do a warm dinner or cake so what was the point of making them feel guilty? It wasn’t worth it anyways considering she wasn’t anything to celebrate over.

For a second she almost slips and admits her sad thoughts to the longest friend she ever had.

But his laughing face appears in her memory next, and she could just about vomit all over the gravel beneath them as it engraves itself there in the forefront of it all.

This was not how it used to be, and she needed to remember that.

It finally made sense why he was out here, he was looking for things to throw at her. Looking to trick her into talking to him so he would have fresh material.

“Why am I wasting time talking to you?” She scoffs. “You’ll just throw it back in my face the first chance you get. Fuck off Harrington.”

She storms off after that, and she should have felt victorious because she got to tell Steve to fuck off. But she didn’t, she only felt lame and hurt.

And the worst part was she knew exactly what to say to hurt him in the way he had hurt her, but she didn’t have the guts to do so.

She was pathetic.

October 13th, 1977

Ollie’s birthday dinner was spent with her family, just as it always was, elbow to elbow as they poured over the meal before them.

Nana, who sat at the head of the table, was recounting her trip at the store earlier to the little ones who had been in school, watching their faces as they listened intently.

“And the damn price of corn went up again. By the time you bunch are grown it’s gonna be damn near 5 dollars for one stock of it.” She grunts out, rolling her eyes gently. “You better become rich.”

“I am!” Wiley yells, raising his hand. “I’m gonna go to space!”

“Ollie is going to be a famous painter.” Stevie smiles, leaning forward. “She’s gonna be in a museum one day.”

“No I’m not!” Ollie laughs, shaking her head at her friend as he turns to her shocked. “They only put the really good ones in those museums. There is no way I make it.”

“They have to! I’ll make them!” Stevie snaps, his face thrown into one of disbelief.

“How are you going to make them?” The adults can do nothing but watch as the two turn to face each other, all aware just how this process goes with them.

“I’ll….. I’ll….. break their kneecaps!” Stevie rushes out, face growing red as Ollie gapes at him.

“You’re going to break their kneecaps to get my work in a museum?” She asks, her face melting into one of giddiness as Steve nods aggressively.

“I’ll break the museum's kneecaps. No question.” He confirms and his best friend shoves forward to hug him tightly. “Who even works at a museum anyways?”

“I have no clue. But they better watch themselves.” Ollie giggles with her arms still wrapped around Steve.

“I pray for them.” Flip mutters, shaking his head at the two kids. “I pray for anyone who bothers you two.”

“Do you believe in god?” Wiley blurts out, fully staring his father down.

“Eat your mashed potatoes, Wye.” Flip grunts, going red in the face himself at his youngest son's attention, flustered.

October 13th, 1983 - Thursday.

Standing outside Hawkins Theater, Steve Harrington shuffled about on his feet awkwardly with his hands in his pockets debating whether he should be here or not.

He knew, deep down, that this was a bad idea. Like pouring gasoline on himself and then lighting a match. And yet he stood there, wanting nothing more than to light the match.

It was an addiction, he was sure of it, having to be near Ollie. One that he had managed to avoid so well, until that night at the Mini Mart gave him a taste again and he found himself looking for her throughout the day.

It made sense, this was his best friend at one point. He used to spend nights at her house and eat with her family. This was the person who taught him to ride a bike and dared him to eat a worm. It’s only natural to miss her….. right?

He messed it up earlier, he moved too fast and asked too many questions. He made her paranoid, and that was on him. This time he would be more careful, ease into the conversation. He would-

Jesus when did Ollie go from his best friend to talking about her like she’s a scared kitten in an alley?

This was a bad idea, he knows this, the sinking feeling in his gut making him turn to walk away. He’d go to the store and get something for dinner and forget all about this. Go back to the way it was, completely ignoring her existence.

But her face flashes in his mind and he finds himself turning right back around and facing the theater. It was her birthday. He missed it last year, an away game for basketball, and even if he was in Hawkins he didn’t know what he would have done for her.

And the year before that had been the year when Cece emerged, the girl hating him through and through. He remembered her narrowed eyes as he carried the painting set to the house, the look of distrust.

He had gotten to watch from the sidelines last year just how close Cece was to Via, a firm layer of annoyance lacing his mind every time he saw them hanging out. Steve liked to blame Cece on Via's new look, the new shorts and dark colors. The chopped and bleached hair. Via looked completely different than what he was used to.

And it wasn’t bad, she was still beautiful, always had been. Even he could admit that as her best friend. But it was a shock to the system seeing her now. The first day of school this year he had kept an eye out for long brown hair and one of Nana's signature creations.

He had not known what to do with the new Via, or how to stop his heart from racing through his chest when she walked by with her middle finger pointed at his group.

But that didn’t matter, he had spent the year avoiding her, and had missed her birthday.

“Come on Harrington. Just get it together.” He mutters to himself, wiping the sweat from his palms down the front of his jacket before hopping on his feet a bit to hype himself up before he finally makes his way to the ticket booth.

“What can I do for you?” The kid sitting in the booth huffs, staring at Steve like he was crazy.

“Oh um. My friend is working. Can I just come in? I don’t really need a ticket.” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“Can’t get in without a ticket.”

“Okay. Fine. Just a ticket to a movie then.” Steve rushes out, grabbing his wallet and paying for the ticket before he heads into the building and takes a deep breath in.

The smell of buttered popcorn fills the air, the red decorations around mixed with the maroon carpet and warm lighting making everything about this place feel so welcoming. It almost manages to ease all his anxiety as he shuffles to the snack counter, wiping his palms one more time as her voice fills the air.

“Just this today Miles?” She asks, even though she is already grabbing the money like she already knows it will be. The taller figure nods quickly, grabbing his snack and turning to walk away.

He makes quick eye contact with Steve before he whirls around and bends his head in thanks and blurts out a fast. “Thank you Ms. Olivia.”

With that he walks away, back ramrod straight and not making eye contact with anyone as he passes. And while Steve was busy watching him walk away he completely forgot that Ollie could see him.

“What are you doing?” She snaps out and he whirls to meet her eyes quickly, suddenly feeling insane.

“I’m….. here to see a movie.” He lies, stepping forward until his fingers touch the counter. “Obviously.”

She blinks up at him, her lips shut in a thin line. “Then go see your movie.”

“Well I need snacks.” He smiles, pointing behind her at all the snacks displayed on the shelves and the large popcorn display. “What do you recommend?”

“Popcorn.” She keeps her face bland, it makes his chest tighten as he panics for ways to make her smile.

“That guy before me was a little weird, huh?”

“Miles is really nice.” She rushes out, standing to grab a bucket and fill it with popcorn quickly. “He comes every Thursday for that Star Wars movie. And he always says thank you. So leave him alone.”

“Right. Got it.” He rushes out, nodding a little too much as he tries to come off relaxed. “So…. Nice hat.”

Her work uniform was a yellow button up with a red tie, and Steve was a bit frustrated by the fact that she actually managed to make it look good. With bracelets stacked on her arm and black nail polish. But the thing that caught his attention was the birthday hat on her head. Blue with the words ‘happy birthday’ printed all over it but it printed wrong so it mostly said happy with only about 3 birthdays. And there was so much color on the hat that he had to blink to focus.

“My manager gave it to me. Get your jokes out now.” She snaps, slamming the bucket on the counter. “And my ears were cold because they blast the ac so people don’t fall asleep.”

“People fall asleep a lot?”

“More often than not.” She hits the buttons on the register before looking at him with a raised brow. “Anything else?”

“A drink. Please.” Anything to stay here a little longer.

“What are you seeing anyways?” She asks and he struggles to pull the ticket out of his pocket to see.

“The… last Jedi?”

“Oh fun! You should sit by Miles.” She smiles, pointing to the soda machine and waiting for him to answer what he wants.

“Coke please.”

“The theater is almost always empty now. That movie came out in like May and we were packed back then for weeks and now it’s just Miles.” She explains, filling the cup. “He comes every Thursday. He used to come with his brother but I haven’t seen George in a minute. I think he got married and moved to Nebraska.”

Her voice holds a dreamy tone in the end, one that he catches a little too quickly.

“You want to move to Nebraska?”

“Not specifically. I’d like to move one day though.” She snaps the lid on the drink, coming back over to set it down, she’s close enough that he can smell the perfume she wore. It wasn’t too flowery or strong. Just a nice sage smell that had him at ease.

“Why would you want to leave Hawkins?”

“It’s…. Hawkins. Who wouldn’t I?” She laughs, slamming the buttons on the register once more before the total pops up. He pulls the cash from his wallet and sets it down gently.

“I like it here.” He mumbles, shrugging a bit. He always thought she liked it here too.

“It’s different when you’re the king.” She snaps a little, and he registers that wall building back up before his very own eyes. He had to switch the topic.

“Where were you from originally? Denver?”

“Yup. But my parents were from here.”

“I remember. Your mom got accepted into college out there? Right? She studied… history?” And Flip had followed her. From what Steve could remember of their story Flip had graduated a year before Lottie and he got a contracting job here in Hawkins. When Lottie left for Denver he stayed for a bit before he moved out there to be with her. He got a job with a construction company out there and they lived in a small one bedroom apartment when they got pregnant with Ollie.

Lottie had been 18 and in college but the way his mothers friends talk about it makes it sound like she had gotten pregnant in high school. And as a kid he never understood the big issue, and now that he can do basic math he knows that his own mother had gotten pregnant senior year.

She would never admit to that, too busy harping on everyone else.

“She studied history and artifacts.” Ollie answers, seeming to be a little more at ease. “But right now she’s working as a temp in a legal aid office.”

“Really? Wow.” His fingers tap against the counter as excitement courses through him. “How’s Wiley?”

“Good.” That answer comes out clipped and he sees red flags in his vision.

“Right. Well if you could tell him hi-“

“You’re gonna miss your movie.” She mumbles, pushing the popcorn and drink forward. “Wouldn’t want that.”

“Right. The movie….. that I came here to see.” He nods, picking both of the containers up and moving to leave before turning back once more. “They are playing trailers though. I don’t mind missing those. What was that thing you were drawing earlier?”

“I’m not sure. It just kinda…. I don’t know.” She answers truthfully.

“Have you seen those murals all around? Of the famous people?” He asks, leaning against the counter easily. “There was one recently of Marilyn Monroe. It was really cool.”

“Yeah I’ve seen them. My parents keep an eye on the paper for articles about the tagger.” She shrugs, cheeks turning red.

“It’s not tagging though….. technically.”

“Its not?”

“Tagging is like…. Graffiti. The paintings are nothing like graffiti. They are really good. They are murals.” He explains, feeling proud of the fact that he is getting her to smile a bit. Truth was he had studied different art topics all week knowing she would be interested in them. Art was her weakness. “And I think whoever is doing them knows that. They hit popular spots when they are mad, like the store. But most of them are for fun.”

“Who would think spending hours outside in the cold weather painting a wall would be fun?”

“People with something to say. I would if I had any talent. And I know for a fact you would if you knew how to paint faces.” He smiles and her head tilts a bit which makes his heart speed up.

“Who says I can’t paint faces?”

“You always struggled with it growing up. Remember that one you did of…. Oh what was his name? You know with the-“ his hands puff out around his head in attempt to show poofy hair. “With the- damn it. You obsessed over him.”

“Bob ross. And I didn’t obsess I just…. Liked him a little.”

“You drew picture after picture of him. You planned a wedding.” Steve laughs.

“I did not! I planned a proposal. You called me a donkey before I could start planning the wedding.” She huffs, her cheeks bright red. “And yes. I struggle with drawing eyes.”

“Struggle? Struggle?! You can’t do it period. He looked like a lizard. One eye staring at me and the other trying to find the lost treasure of Atlantis.” He laughs, trying to cross his eyes the same way that drawing had.

“Ohhhh you wanna talk about drawing. Let’s talk about-“

“Please don’t bring it up. I already know what you’re going to say.” He huffs.

“The family portrait! The one you drew with nanas colored pencils of all of us. But it was just stick figures, and you overdrew dads and it looked like-“

“I didn’t mean to give your dads stick figure a dick! I didn’t mean to do it!” He laughs, rubbing his eyes as he remembers that drawing. “It wasn’t my intent.”

“And you gave Wiley a unibrow.”

“The kid always had his face scrunched in confusion at the time! It looked like one eyebrow every time I saw him!” He tries to explain. “I’ve never seen a baby more confused.”

“He was always so confused! And so curious! Every time you came over he stared at you like you were some ancient mystery!” She laughs loudly, snorting a bit. “Remember the day you tried making him laugh and got mashed potatoes up your nose?”

“Oh my god! And then when I laughed it hit his face!” Steve cackles, bending over to try and catch his breath.

“You scarred him. I swear. That’s why he’s always so nervous now.”

“Always on the lookout for nose mash now.” He chuckles. “That was your 10th birthday. Right?”

“I think so, Wiley got so mad that he refused to let me blow out the candles.” She remembers with a laugh, before the sound of blasters fills the air. “I think your movie is starting-“

“HARRINGTON!” The voice sounds out from the doors, drawing both their attention to the doors as a couple of the boys from the basketball team show up. “What are you doing here?”

“W-watching a movie.” Steve rushes out.

“Nice man.” Nicky laughs, shoving past him. “Nice hat.”

His tone is sarcastic and the bitter laugh that falls from his lips makes Steve tense.

“Thanks.” Ollie sneers. “What can I get you?”

The next couple minutes pass way too slowly, the snarky comments from the boys as Ollie gets their snacks. He laughs, of course he laughs every time they make a comment because he is a coward. Always has been.

Ollie knew that. And judging by the look she gives him as he is dragged off by his friends he knows she’s remembered why.

All that work he did over the past 30 minutes ruined.

October 13th, 1977 - Thursday

Wiley gets cranky halfway through the dinner and he begins staring at his plate which makes Steve feel bad. He didn’t like when Wiley got upset. He elbows Ollie to get her attention and then leans in to whisper in her ear his plan. She nods with excitement as they both turn back.

Wiley gives them a skeptical look, casting a brief look to Nana then back to them. Steve scoops up a bunch of potatoes in his hand, rubbing it all over his face as Ollie does the same thing, both of them moaning out like zombies.

“Me like potatoesssssss.” Stevie groans.

“Eat brains.” Ollie groans back and Wiley starts laughing which makes the other two start laughing. But it slowly starts turning out of control, all of them laughing a little too hard.

Then it happens, Steve snorts and a bunch of the mashed potatoes fly across the table and hit Wiley in the face. Chaos breaks out quickly.

His face falls quickly, a scream tearing from his mouth as he swipes his face quickly, already crying for their mom.

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve rushes out as Ollie cackles loudly, barely breathing which just makes Wiley cry more. “Ollie!”

“I HATE YOU STEVIE!” Wiley screams, picking up a handful of mashed potatoes from the center bowl, and throwing it right at Steve only for it to hit Ollie.

“Enough!” Lottie yelps when her daughter reaches for the same bowl. “How about some cake?”

“No! I’m gonna kill them!” Wiley yells.

10 minutes later as the family sings happy birthday to Ollie, Wiley keeps leaning over to blow out the candles before Ollie can, which makes Steve laugh. All three of them huddled around the cake and beginning to hit each other as the adults try to keep them all contained.

Ollie leans forward to blow out her candles but when Flip lifts the cake to avoid Wiley’s attempts he accidentally smashes it into her face. Another wave of laughter hits all of them as her face is covered in chocolate.

“Happy birthday Ollie,” Steve mumbles with a mouthful of cake, sliding his gift over to her. She unwraps it quickly, smiling from ear to ear when she sees the pack of colored pencils.

“50 colors?!” She yells out, already standing. “I can’t believe it!”

October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Wiley

“Are you serious?” Flip asks, blinking slowly at his son from his spot on the couch, trying to glue a chair back together as the sounds of Via slamming things in her room fill the air. “You’re not messing with me are you?”

Wiley can do nothing but blink at his father, feeling nervous and excited in the same moment.

Another thud comes from Via’s room followed by a muffled “FUCK-“

“Olivia! Language!” Flip huffs, shaking his head before setting the remains of the chair down and looking at his son. “Go get your shoes. I’ll get my keys.”

Wiley dashes to go grab a pair of shoes that she shoved in his closet earlier, struggling to put them on because he was moving so quickly as he hears his dad knock on Via’s door.

“Hey Via? I’m running your brother to the store. You need anything?”

“No!” She snaps back, followed by another thud. She had been in a mood since her birthday, had come home and marched straight to her room. Not saying a word to and from school the next day and remaining in her room at every other moment.

Mom said to leave her alone, telling both Wiley and his dad that it was probably girl stuff and it would all be fine.

What Wiley didn’t admit was he snuck into her room yesterday while she ate breakfast and walked to her desk to see that she had drawn a very detailed flower with teeth on the petals and sprawled across the paper she wrote “Fuck Steve Harrington.”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew something happened between them last year, but Wiley would ve the first to admit he missed the older teen and he missed the way things used to be.

“Wiley! Come on let’s go!”

He doesn’t respond, prefers not to, and rushes down the hall to meet his dad at the door with a wide smile. One Flip matches with his own excitement.

“I’m about to drop my boy off to hang out with a friend.” He narrates, huffing a bit. “Can’t believe it.”

Wiley’s eyes narrow at the slight diss hidden in the words, but they were also the truth so he shuffles past his dad to get to the car.

The ride to the Hawkins comic store was long, not because of the actual ride but more so because Wiley was so excited to get there. When his dad parked the truck in front of it he hops out and meets him around the front.

“Okay. I’m gonna head to the general store and grab your ma’s prescription. You good here?”

A nod.

“No talking to strangers. If you need me then come get me okay?” Another nod. Flip smiles, ruffling his hair before nodding his own head in the direction of the door. “Go knock ‘em dead kid.”

And he makes sure Wiley gets in the building before walking down the block to the store, leaving his truck there so Wiley would have somewhere to run just in case.

The bell to shop rings out, causing Wiley’s cheeks to heat as he shuffles inside, looking around at everything within the building. He begins to panic, what if Lucas didn’t show up? What if this was all a joke and -

“Wiley! Hey you came!” Lucas Sinclair smiles, coming around the corner with another smaller figure in tow. “Was that your dad?”

“Y-yes-sss.” Wiley answers, hand coming up to rub his chest as a form of anxiety. He just had to remember to talk slow and breathe. It would be fine.

“Dude he’s tall.” Lucas laughs. “Mike has a tall dad too but he doesn’t ever talk to us. His name is Ted. He’s kind of boring but your dad looks cool. I like his truck. Have you read the new Wolverine? I just found it, we can go find a spot and read it.”

“Are you actually gonna let him speak airhead?” The smaller of the two sneers, her eyebrows pinching together in anger. “Or keep talking over him?”

“I’m f-f-fin-ne.” Wiley smiles, moving forward to take a closer look at the comic in Lucas’ hands.

“My parents made me bring her so she can play Pac man. Which she promised to do once we got here so scram forehead.”

“Whatever Buck teeth.” She snaps back before heading to the pac man game while Wiley and Lucas dash to find a spot to read their comic.

The friendship with Lucas was new. After school a couple days ago Wiley ran into him at the comic book store and at first he avoided him like he usually does. It had taken one bad play date with the wheeler kid to know that he would not belong in their group. They talked fast and often talked over each other. He wouldn’t be able to keep up and he knew that his stutter bothered Wheeler. So he had never gone out of his way to talk to them.

That is until Lucas saw Wiley holding a comic he was looking for and they ended up talking about marvel for a while….. Lucas talked and Wiley tried here and there.

But he slowly realized that when he did choose to talk that Lucas was willing to wait, and he never talked over him to finish the sentence, he just waited.

“I invited Dustin but he’s in a bit of trouble because he threw his bike in front of his garage and his mom nearly ran over it. Do you have a bike?”

“I hav-ve my-my sist-ters old bike.” He explains, shrugging. “S-she spr-spraypaint-Ted it for me.”

“You should ride your bike to school with us! Dustin passes my place and we normally meet at 7:40.”

And just like that Wiley Fraser was making friends, and he barely had to talk.

October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Steve

It’s not like he planned on wasting the past two days thinking about Olivia Fraser. That’s just what happened, which was embarrassing considering the fact that he spent most of Friday afternoon sitting with Nancy Wheeler at the picnic tables outside after school.

She was cute, in that nerdy notebook way. She made him smile and all things considered she wasn’t the worst he had flirted with, that prize went to the muppet from study hall.

But Nancy Wheeler, as pretty and smart as she was, could not compete with Ollie in his mind. Ever since that interaction at the theater he found that she coated his mind like an oil spill.

Hey, my tire on the car looks flat; suddenly he remembers the year his bike broke and she had to help him limp home.

He needed to study for a history exam, suddenly he thinks back to the time they were doing homework at the table and she realized that she had been misspelling her name for years. Which had led to a full blown meltdown and she decided that she would steal his last name.

Her teacher had sent back all her work with the last name Harrington crossed off on each and every one. And Ollie learned that her name was Fraser and not Frazier.

Over and over and over.

But it got bad when Barb reminded him of Nana. That is what hurt his heart the most.

It was while he and Nancy were packing up after pretending to study and the redhead had come out to take her friend home.

It started off easy with a simple “can we stop by the craft store on the way home?”

And Nancy had simply responded “yeah. I love that place.”

Steve hadn’t even realized the connection, and had been partially listening when Barbs next words made him stop. “Remember that older lady that used to work there? I miss her! She owned the house on Steves street didn’t she?”

And just like that he is seeing Nana, the very last time he saw her. So frail and tired, so ready for the end and yet still so welcoming. Suddenly he is back to being that bloodied up kid who just needed to be near them.

“Yeah I think.” He mumbles, snatching his books. “How am I supposed to know?”

But it clung to him, of course it did. And he was still bothered by it a day later as he pulled into the general store with a bad attitude.

His mom would be home that Wednesday, so he just needed groceries until she got back and he figured the best time to do so would be early afternoon when the store was at its peak so he wasn’t trapped in the silent house all day. Peak hours meant he could browse the aisles without having to worry about being stopped since everyone was in a rush.

That was until he saw Flip with a basket in hand grabbing a box from one of the shelves near him. The man still wore his classic flannel, and his mouth was set into a from as he read on the box while Steve tried to figure out what he should do.

Say hi right? Or had Ollie told him what a dick he had become? He should just walk away and pretend he didn’t even-

“Stevie! How ya’ doing pal?” Flip smiles, coming up to shake his hand. “It’s been way too long, bud.”

“It’s good to see you Mr. Fraser.” He smiles awkwardly, his hand shaky in the hold of Flips.

“Oh? Long enough to go back to the Mr. Fraser then? Or am I just that old now?”

“No no. I just- I don’t know.” Steve laughs, moving out of the way of an older woman passing by. “It’s been awhile. I miss you guys.”

The admission makes his skin heat up, still nervous about it all.

“You need to come by for dinner. We haven’t had you over since we moved.” Flip mumbles, setting his basket down and pulling out a small notepad. Steve recognized it as one of the ones he used to carry around for contracting, so he could write down measurements and such.

Taking the tiny pencil Flip sprawls something across the lines on the paper before ripping it out and handing it to the boy.

“November 2nd we are making dinner for Lotties birthday. You should come over. That’s the address.” The man smiles, patting his back once more before heading to checkout while Steve stares at the paper in his hands with wide eyes.

It was like a golden ticket had just been handed to him, a chance to be near the Fraser’s again and be near Ollie again.

It was obvious he would go for dinner. The only problem was how mad Ollie was going to be when she found out.

{New Chapter out Monday}

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fan #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanart #stranger things fanfiction

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Pinky Promises - Chapter One

Authors Note: Yeahhhhh baby. Chapter one is out.

Word Count: 8,316 Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

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Song of the Chapter : Hungry Like The Wolf

September 17th, 1983 - Saturday

“When I marry rich the first thing I’m doing is buying Eddie better taste in music.” Cece Miller mutters angrily whilst following her best friend through an over packed house 30 minutes outside of Hawkins, keeping a freshly manicured hand wrapped around the blondes wrist to keep her close as both their feet stumble across the floors. Via’s heavy boots thud against the linoleum of the kitchen while Cece’s heels click. The complete opposites.

When Via stumbles under the harsh new light of the kitchen her hand pulls Cece who stumbles as well, the former trying not to laugh when Cece’s face smushed into her back quickly with a disgruntled gasp.

“Slow down, Via.” She grounds out, her nails digging into the flesh of Via’s arm which makes her gasp out in pain.

“Easy on the flesh, I’m going as slow as I can. Unless you want to be stuck between a bunch of people grinding?” She teases, reaching her free hand behind her to release some of the tension of Cece’s hold. Both of them back up with a simple step as a random jock in a letterman jacket dashes past to the bathrooms. “And so the mighty are already falling.”

“Jesus.” Cece grimaces as they both watch him shove past others. “I can never tell if I love these types of parties or hate them.”

“A bit of both as I’ve come to realize. You know, from all my years attending them.” A shit eating grin spreads across her face as she turns to look at her friend, biting back a laugh when the brunette merely rolls her eyes as she smooths out her hair.

“How could I forget? Show me your partying ways ‘oh wise one’.” She mocks a little bow as she says it. The both of them already knew that their only experience of parties came from this past summer and this school year, and even then it’s whenever they can trick their parents.

“Well we’ve already had a couple drinks-”

“Whoope.”

“And Eddie is still playing this trash metal music-”

“Are you shocked?”

“So another round of drinks and then we go on a hunt for the damn speakers and switch out the music for something worth a damn.” Via offers, wiggling her eyebrows as Cece cracks out into a fit of laughter.

“Mission accepted. Let’s get moving.” With that she takes the lead, Via having to grab onto her wrist to stay connected as they once again make their way through the hectic floor. Bumping shoulders with partygoer after partygoer.

Cecelia Miller was a force of nature in settings like this. She was one of the few girls that knew how beautiful she was and flaunted it well. She wore short skirts, that had once been longer skirts her mother thrifted but the girl had a knack of turning anything into her fashion. 10 minutes on a sewing machine and she was wearing the type of clothes that could have been in one of those lame fashion magazines Via had seen her obsess over day after day.

It was a shame her fashion sense and beauty had earned her the label of ‘School Slut’ at Hawkins when anyone that knew the girl knew she was a virgin. But that didn’t matter to any of the assholes at school, they didn’t truly care about anyone else but themselves.

Tonight she wore a skintight black skirt that had once been a pair of pleather pants, and a pink off the shoulder top that had once been a long sleeve floral shirt that Cece’s grandmother would wear to their church.

Via’s own outfit had been one of Cece’s creations. A tight purple and black checkered dress hemmed from one of her sister's old ankle length skirts with a pair of pantyhose and an overly large gray blazer. When Via had thrown the blazer on she felt the same nervous bubbling she used to get whenever she tried on Nana's homemade dresses.

Cece’s face always held the same amount of excitement her Nana’s once held whenever she looked at her creations. It always made something churn in her gut as she remembered the worn lines of her Nana’s face and the happiness laid in her eyes. But that was gone. Her Nana was gone.

And Harrington had laughed.

But she couldn’t think about that memory right now, not when her friend had led them both to the kitchens and had snatched two cups. As she inspected the insides of the cups to make sure they are clean, Via moves to find the last unopened bottle of vodka and turns to pour them out.

Her father once said something about ‘yin and yang’ the first time Cece had spent the night at the old house. He laughed about how well they worked with each other, smooth and unbreakable. Working in tandem as they did the dishes or homework. Each others exact opposites and still never missing a beat.

That carried to this day, and Via truly had no clue what she would do without her friend.

“Do you want coke or lemonade?” Cece asks, still holding both the cups as she looks over to where the chasers were.

“The cap to the coke is lost. Better safe than sorry.” Via hums out and grabs the lemonade to pour into the cups while Cece keeps an eye around them. Once both of them are filled enough the lemonade is set half haphazardly on the table again and Cece passes a cup to Vias outstretched hand easily, scoffing a bit when the bleach blonde tries drinking before cheers. “Sorry sorry.”

“Cheers to us, bitch.” Cece giggles, wiggling side to side in excitement before she gestures for Via to cheers her back.

“Cheers to…” Surviving another year at Hawkins, not killing anyone and passing grades. “Being here?”

“Terrible toast. You’re never speaking at my wedding.”

“You mean when you marry a rich man?”

“Don’t laugh. I’ll buy you all the nice art supplies you want when I’m making the money.” She huffs once more, glaring at the boy that tries to come up and talk to them with his shirt off. “A little busy here? Find someone else to bother.”

He grumbles something under his breath before storming off and she merely rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Everyone here is disgusting.”

“How shocking that you think people are disgusting.” Via mocks, giggling at her friends' annoyed expression before they tap their cups together and pinch their noses to chug the drinks quickly.

They move to pour one last round before they abandon the kitchen and stagger their way across the floor in search for where the music was being played from. Their hands stay entwined tight, always keeping close no matter what. It was one of the rules they made at the first party they had ever been to after a risky interaction with one of the freaks Eddie had invited from that bar he always went to.

Now, no matter what party they went to, one of them had to keep their hands on the other. Like the buddy system in kindergarten.

“Okay so get into Eddie’s mindset.” Cece giggles, leading them into a hallway that has a little room to loiter. “I’m some sort of evil genius that throws random ragers which are just ruses to torture a crowd with my shit music. Where do I hide the radio?”

“Up his ass probably.” Via laughs, fanning her hand out to cool herself down a bit. Sweat began to cling to the back of her neck. “Do you have a hair tie?”

“Shhhhh I am thinking.” Cece snaps, putting her hand up to the blonde's face as she looks around.

“Or we can follow a chord from one of the speakers?” Via offers, snatching her friend's hand and stealing a hair tie from the slender wrist and putting her hair up while the other girls gasps in excitement.

“You are a genius. And not the evil kind like your cousin.” She exclaims before moving to find a speaker and before they know it they are following the chord to the radio and hijacking it to a different station. The crowd is a mix of boos and excited chants as dancing begins downstairs.

They escape the scene of the crime, giggling the entire time, especially when Via trips on the bottom step of the staircase leading back down to the living room area where most of the dancing was beginning.

Hungry Like The Wolf begins blasting through the speakers and Cece yells in excitement, dragging Via the last couple steps towards the dance floor and throwing them both in without a second thought.

1 song turned to 3 more. Which turned to 5 more songs and by the time Via managed to drag Cece away from the crowd and out the door, the sweat that had covered most of her skin sent chills down her spine as it soaks up the cold night air.

Cece leans against the railing close to the door, leaning back and fixing her hair so the air can hit her face a little better while Via staggers to the opposite railing with her eyes closed as every muscle in her body relaxes, wrapping the oversized blazer around herself to preserve some warmth.

“It’s not warm looking cool is it?” A voice from below the porch snaps her out of the calm daze, scaring her a bit before she blinks away the blurriness and finds her cousin sitting in the grass of the lawn smiling from ear to ear. “You the little shit that switched my music?”

The scent of caramel and sweat fill Via’s senses as Cece joins her side with an overdramatic huff. “The music you were playing sucked. So you can’t pull your better than thou attitude with us.”

“Hello, Cecelia.” Eddie grins, leaning against the wall of the house as he stares up at her. “You both would be a lot warmer if you dressed like me, you see I have a leather jacket and a flannel because unlike you I-”

“Look like a dweeb?” Cece scoffs, using her fingers to swiper under her eyes in an attempt to clean the makeup that had pooled there.

There is a slam of a car door not far off that pulls Via’s attention as the two around her continue their small argument, but the people getting out of the car have fully grabbed all of her attention. The three boys in the Hawkins jerseys all shoving each other drunkenly and laughing like maniacs as they stagger across the lawn to get to the front door.

Via watches for a moment, waiting to see if another figure would emerge, one that she knew like the back of her hand. When he doesn’t she takes a deep breath in and turns back to where her cousin was still sitting and hauls herself up onto the railing to throw her body over. The only problem was she had a little too much to drink so it’s not as smooth as she would like it to be and she ends up just falling forward.

Cece gasps out and it’s like a slow motion horror story as Via watches the ground come at her quickly, or well maybe she was coming at the ground too quickly but who's to say? Before she can really crash her cousin is there, laughing as he takes most of the hit and they both sprawl across the dirt and grass.

It takes her a moment to catch her breath since the fall knocked the wind out of her lungs, and by the time she finally does she has to pick herself up off the ground to spot Cece climbing through the rails rather than over them.

Eddie groans in pain as he dashes to help her before the jocks hit the porch, all three of them ducking down so the clowns in jock jackets don’t see them.

“Is there a reason you are hiding in the bushes?” Via taunts, still a little out of breath from her fall and her back shooting with pain.

“Party got a little boring.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall again as his hand pats down his jacket before he pulls a sandwich baggie with a joint and a lighter tossed into it. “Needed a break.”

“You fell down here after leaning on the railing.” Via guesses which makes her cousin lean to punch her shoulder harshly. She grunts in pain once more before slapping his arm back and before he can hit back Cece leans to snatch the joint from him while he is distracted.

“Of course. You two follow me out here just to team up on me as usual. This will not stand, you hear me?” Eddie rants, shaking his head. “I’m putting my foot down, Cecelia.”

“Don’t say my name like that, Edward.” She snaps, lighting the rolled up joint and taking in a deep inhale before passing it to Via. Eddie whines in the background as Via follows her friend's lead before handing it to Eddie finally.

“Do you ladies like…. My humble abode?” He squints, gesturing to the big house behind him before smoking as well, watching both of the girls look at the house fully now.

“How do you even find these houses?” Via questions, closing her eyes and laying down as the dizziness threatens to consume her.

Eddie had made a habit of throwing parties in houses for sell, empty and out of town bounds. An idea Cece gave him the last time Hopper caught him with weed, he had gotten into a lot of trouble and she was upset. So now the parties are in houses where Hopper couldn’t find them, and Eddie could sell to people from other towns.

“Oh it’s so easy. I simply read a newspaper and look for open houses then I go to the open house and look up what time they close and once I’m sure they are closed up for the night I break in - which isn’t a crime if I don’t get caught so do not make that face at me Cecelia-”

“Hate when you call me that Edward.” She grunts.

“-And then I call a random number to a different school from a telephone that cannot be traced-”

“A payphone.”

“Olivia, please I am trying to lay out my master scheme here. Anyways I call from a phone that cannot be traced to a random student from different schools and tell them the address for the night so I can never be tracked. It’s so simple.”

“I think you need help, Edward.” Via hisses, sitting up to flick his nose before Cece lays down to put her head in Via’s lap and close her eyes. They sit in silence for a moment, just taking a deep breath in as the party is still loud and booming within the house. Hungry Like The Wolf begins to play through the speakers again.

“I hate you guys for changing the music.” Eddie groans.

“This party blew before we did that so lose the tone Edward.” Cece mumbles with her eyes still closed.

“How are things going with you two? It’s been forever since I have seen you both.” He is quick to change the subject.

“We saw you yesterday.” Via reminds him, leaning back on her palms to relax as he relights his joint and Cece hums out while still using her friend as a pillow. No matter how many parties they went to somehow they always ended up sitting alone and gossiping about the dumbest things possible. Did that make them lame?

Via didn’t think so but Steven Harrington would probably disagree. Just the thought of his stupid face has her clenching her jaw and imagining ways to hit him with a car. But the thoughts betray her, just as they always do. It goes from hitting him with a car to remembering his face that night.

When she had heard the news about Nana, when she panicked and ran to the one person she thought would make her feel better. But she should have known better, she should have known that he wasn’t who she thought he always was.

Eddie had warned her long before that and her freshman year had proven as much. But she was still a fool, and she was upset and he had been so drunk .

The glassiness of his eyes made her stomach sink, the wet of the grass digging into her socks as she tries to process her next words.

“My Nana is gone…” She sobs, and he only blinks.

“Are you crying?” He slurs and she can’t tell if he can hear her or not. When she does go to respond she is interrupted by the sound of Tommy Hagan cackling behind Steve.

He turns to stare at Tommy and Ollie watches in slow time as his chest begins to rise and fall with… laughter. Steve was laughing. At her.

“Via? Helloooo?” Eddie calls, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Sorry? What?” She balks, trying to act calm as both of her friends peer at her as if she were crazy.

“We thought you were like…. Dying or something. We have been trying to get your attention for hours.” Cece huffs, tears in her eyes. “Don’t die.”

“Okay, don’t get too dramatic Cecelia.” Eddie huffs, though his face still holds a small but of panic. “She is right though. You went pale and just zoned out for a minute.”

“Sorry. Got caught in my head.” Via answers, tension coiling in her chest as they both watch her with fear. When neither of them seemed to relax she lets out a fake laugh, doing her very best to make them believe it. “I’m fine mom and dad. Take a breath.”

“Fine. Just tell me if I need to go grab water.” Eddie huffs, finally sitting back which makes Cece relax as well, though she doesn’t lay her head back in her friends lap and rather sits against the wood hold of the porch with a skeptical look. One Via notes immediately.

“What were we talking about before I zoned out?”

“We were just catching up.” Eddie mumbles and Via doesn’t miss the way he smears out the rest of the joint, throwing it back in the bag and shoving it in his jacket with shaky hands. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good.” Steve’s laughing face is still deeply engraved in the center of her thoughts but that’s where he stayed whether she liked it or not.

“I was telling Eds about my essay, the one you helped me with? I got an A on it.” Cece mutters, reaching up to smooth out her hair. “Who knew Cleopatra was so interesting?”

“I did…. And Wiley. He gave me the books for the research, you know?” Via smiles as both their faces melt at the mention of her little brother.

“Oh I love Wiley!” Cece blurts, her voice filled with the same tone in which you talk to a tiny kitten. “He’s just so sweet!”

“I don’t understand how Wiley doesn’t have friends!” Eddie snaps aggressively, his face pinched up in annoyance. “That kid is so metal. He rocks and I’ll pummel those kids that made fun of him. I promise you that.”

“That’s a crime, Eds.” Cece reminds.

“Only if you get caught.” He snaps back. “I seriously don’t know what that Wheeler kids problem is.”

“We don’t know it was Wheeler.” Via rushes out, palms outstretched in an attempt to get them both to calm down like they were wild animals. “But the stutter has gotten better around the house. I have no clue what he sounds like at school.”

It was a partial truth. Wiley had developed a really bad stutter due to some bullying at school and over the years he started to avoid talking all together. His stutter had gotten better around their family lately but that was due to the fact that he avoided talking any chance he could. No matter how much their dad pried for conversation.

“We should dress up as middle school boys and sneak in to see.”

“Hate to break it to you Cecelia but you have a very large pair of knockers.”

“EDWARD!” She snaps, sitting up to slap his forehead quickly which makes him gasp out in fake shock.

“That was so rude Cecelia. You truly just hurt my feelings.” He whines, and she rolls her eyes when he smiles at her.

“Grow up, Munson.”

“You first, Miller.”

“Get a room, Mutts.” Via scoffs, moving to stand on shaky legs.

“Get a life, Ollie.” Eddie scoffs back, eyes widening when Via picks up a tiny rock to throw at him, and within seconds he’s scrambling to run away as both girls move to attack him.

20 minutes later Via stands before the side of the house, two cans of spray paint within her hands as she sticks out her tongue from the corner of her mouth in an attempt to better concentrate. Steve used to say it was ‘frog mentality’ and that she would pass all her classes if she kept doing it. But that was back when Steve wasn’t the devil incarnate.

Cece and Eddie lean against the tree facing the house, both watching my work and critiquing it any chance they get to bother her.

“I would like to remind the group one more time that I am still working on the project. And you shouldn’t judge it until it’s done.” Via snaps out, tossing the red spray paint into the duffel bag and snatching up a different color, shaking it quickly as Eddie tilts his head to admire the work.

“It looks uneven.” He smirks and Cece gasps dramatically. “Eds I was literally about to say that.”

“I hate you both.” Via mumbles under her breath which makes them laugh as she continues on. They begin talking amongst themselves, Cece reminding Eddie about homework to which he argues that he did it and they begin a whisper debate, and at some point Via begins to zone them out and focus on the project at hand. Their words fade out, and the colors become the only thing that matters. They blend together and soon enough a face comes into view, the brick all turning into a portrait of despair.

By the time she steps back all she can do is blink at the creation, smiling from ear to ear as her cousin whistles slowly and walks up to where she stands. “Is that Marilyn Monroe?”

“Oh my god Eddie. It is obviously Marilyn Monroe.” Cece sighs, coming up to huddle next to them both for warmth as each of them fight off shivers. “I cannot believe you did that with spray paint.”

“Is she crying or smiling?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to further admire the portrait.

“Both? I don’t know. I kind of just let the paint take control.” Via admits, face heating as both of them immediately groan out.

“I’m Via and I speak to the paint.” Eddie mocks, pretending to flip his hair over his shoulder before his face goes dead serious. “You’re not….huffing the paint are you?”

“Shut up Edward!” Cece snaps which makes Via smile, laughing a bit until the defense turns against her. “She only does that every now and then. She mostly huffs the bleach for her hair.”

“YOU do my hair!” Via groans, shoving Cece away as she packs up the duffel of spray paint and snatches the polaroid camera from the bag before stepping back and taking a picture of her latest mural.

The second the picture is formed she can do nothing but smile at it.

“Alright, go pose.” Cece giggles, snatching the camera and shoving Via in the direction of the mural. The blonde doesn’t argue, and immediately dashes to pose in front of the brick wall with a wide smile, both her middle fingers pointed to the camera as Cece takes the picture.

She shakes the picture with excitement as Eddie shuffles closer to see it. Once it’s developed they both show their excitement, Eddie with a ‘hell yeah’ and Cece with a loud squeal.

“You look so good!” The brunette laughs.

“Badass.” Eddie confirms and Via snatches the photo to look at it herself.

Sometimes seeing her reflection or photo these days still kind of shocked her, like a stranger she had never had the chance to properly meet.

After Nana had passed she had gone through many changes.

It had started the day she chopped her long hair down to her collarbone, sobbing violently until she rushed to Cece’s house before her parents could see it. Cece’s mother had evened out the chop and helped the girls bleach her hair, since she was a hair stylist.

The pink came from a night at Cece’s house while her mom slept over at her nasty boyfriend's place. Cece had been upset and Via had of course rushed over, they read in one of her lame magazines that color in the hair was the new thing so they started with Via. But by the time the pink had been dyed Cece lost her nerve and had never added any blue to her own.

This led to a fight, one of their biggest, and they went a whole 20 minutes of not talking to each other. It was intense. (Eddie says they are both too codependent. They both tell him to shove it)

Gone were the days of the handmade dresses her Nana used to spend hours making, gone were the days of being bullied over them. Not that Via ever hated the dresses, they were all gifts from her Nana, but she liked that she could grow into her style some more. There were still a couple dresses kept safe in the back of her closet though. Kept safe and hidden.

Cece had taught her makeup…. Well she tried to teach her makeup but the two had very different thoughts on how makeup should look. Cece went for a glam look, foundation and glitter. Via went for a…. She liked eyeliner.

And Via loved her new look, she loved everything about it. She just wishes she had more time to grow into it rather than changing it in one summer.

But it was time things moved forward. Freshman year from hell had proved as much. Harrington and his friends had made it dreadful. And her one best friend…..

“Okay, we need to get out of here before the cops show up. That party is only getting louder.” Eddie reminds. He makes sure everything is picked up and gives them both one more protective look. “I’m gonna go find my sophomores. You two good to get home?”

“Tell Gareth and Jeff I say hello.” Cece smiles, fluttering her eyes which makes Eddie roll his eyes once more. Everyone knew both of them had huge crushes on her, the kind that left them speechless whenever she was near.

“I already told you not to bully my youth, Cecelia.”

“Blah blah blah.” She snaps, leaning to kiss his cheek before moving to walk away leaving Via behind for a moment.

“You okay?” He blurts after a moment, both of them watching Cece walk across the lawn in her heels, yelling in disgust when they keep sinking in the mud.

“Oh my god I’m fine. It was just a zoned out moment. I’ll drive her home and walk.” she sighs in aggravation, twisting the bracelet on her arm nervously. “You can even come knock on our door when you get home to make sure I made it.”

“I meant about the day.” Eddie mumbles, finally turning to her with that knowing look that normally sets her on edge. “I know how…..close you were .”

“I’m fine. It’s just a day.” She laughs, not enjoying the queasy feeling coiling in her stomach or the way her palms seem to itch with sweat. Memories lunging for her, all around that stupid boy with the stupid smile. “Are you okay to get home?”

Best way to handle Eddie is to change the subject to himself, it’s something she had learned pretty quickly. He gets as defensive about being okay as she does. Fight fire with fire.

“How about you call the trailer later and make sure I am alive?” He teases, punching her shoulder. Situation diffused.

“COME ON!” Cece calls, finally having made it to her car. “I WANT DONUTS!”

“CAN YOU YELL ANY LOUDER?!” Eddie calls back, flipping her the bird before turning back to the house. “Go get the princess her donuts. I gotta find the boys.”

“Bye Edward.” She mumbles back, using his full name to piss him off.

“Bye Ollie.” He mutters back in the same tone and the grunt of shock that passes his lips when she punches his shoulders makes her smile. “Fine. Via.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

September 17th, 1975

“I officially hate 2nd grade.” Ollie mutters, trying to pull away from her mom as the older blonde fixes the pigtails she had sent her daughter to school in.

“I just don’t understand how a crayon melted in your hair Ollie.” She grunts, frustration flashing in her eyes as she picks the comb up from the table to once again try tugging some of the wax out. “Stevie? Did you see her?” “No.” He lies, watching from his spot at the kitchen table with his legs swinging back and forth. “She was on her own for this one.”

That part was true at least.

“Why would you do this Olivia?” Charlotte groans right as Flip comes down the stairs.

“What did Olivia do?”

“Dad! Mom is pulling my hair!” Ollie snitches which makes Steve snort in amusement until she sends a glare his way, promptly shutting him up.

“Don’t pull my baby's hair.” Her father mumbles, coming up to kiss his wife’s cheek before he stops short. “Olivia Diane Fraser. What the hell did you do?”

Steve sits up straight, eyes widening as he begins to panic. His friend was in deep trouble if her dad was using her full name. There is an urge to defend her, to tell her parents that it wasn’t her fault even if he knew it was. And apart of him knew her dad would never raise a hand to her, but there was still that fear, deep in his stomach that made him want to throw up.

“I was making Stevie a gift!” She yells back, her face going red with frustration. “It’s his birthday!”

“Oh you don’t say.” Charlotte laughs, turning to give Steve a wide smile. “Have I said Happy birthday yet Stevie?”

“This morning.” Steve nods, watching Ollie stick her head in the sink to try and get the crayon out again. “You want to see what Ollie made me?”

“Sure.” Flip sighs, dragging his eyes away from his daughter to see Steve hold out a piece of construction paper with melted crayons all over them. He blinks for a moment as Steve smiles like it’s the best art he’s ever seen.

Flip however cannot figure out what it is. He just stares, hoping if he blinks enough the image will come to him.

“It’s flowers!” Steve supplies. “See the wax of the green crayon is the stem and then she was making red and pink flowers with the other crayons and-“

“How the hell were you meltin these?” Flip laughs, turning back to his daughter.

“The sun….. and by pressing them into a lightbulb from a lamp.” Ollie explains, somehow managing to escape her mothers hold and dashing to where Steve sits. “Do you really like it?”

“It’s the coolest thing ever. I’m keeping it.” He smiles, pulling it closer to him.

“Alright. We’ll worry about Ollie’s hair later. For right now the big question is upon us.” Flip laughs, sitting at the table and turning to Steve. “What does the birthday boy want for dinner?”

September 17th, 1983 Saturday

The mini mart that sat right on the edge of town was probably the worst place to be so late in the night, and this only became apparent to Via when she walked in to find it empty.

Well, not empty. The lights were on and the radio by the register was playing music but there wasn’t another human in sight. It had an unsettling feel to it and for a second she is glad she had the mind to lock the doors to Cece’s car since the other girl was passed out in the backseat with a ‘car blanket’ strewn over her. Via wouldn’t have even stopped for the donuts if she didn’t want a snack herself.

The weed and the liquor both claimed hunger in her stomach.

So, even though it gave her a bad feeling, Via smiled as she used the emptiness of the mini mart to her advantage. Unzipping her purse as she passed through the aisles and shoved some things in it quickly. A small bottle of liquor, a pack of donuts, band-aids, chocolate, matches.

She is debating if she should shove some gum in when the bell of the door sounds out and her attention drags to it, only to find the one person she never wanted to talk to again.

Steve Harrington blinks in shock, eyes wide as he looks torn between holding his ground or running away, his hand still on the door. His mouth opens and shuts a couple times before he clears his throat which snaps her back to attention.

She turns quickly, willing her spine to relax as she lamely stares at the gum choices before her, blinking and waiting.

Finally after a moment the door finally shuts completely and she lets out a breath, hoping that meant he left. She wasn’t so lucky because a moment later his footsteps can be heard as he passes her until he is an aisle away and looking at the selection of chips they had.

The only problem was the aisles barely reached their shoulders so they could still see each other. She was just fine ignoring him, but it seemed he would not let this moment pass.

“Is anyone working?”

“Do I look like I work here, Harrington?” She snarks, snatching up a pack of gum and moving to leave before she realizes that he would probably snitch which meant she would have to pay. Shit.

Turning to make it look like she wasn’t about to leave she waltzes to the counter and rings the bell, ignoring the feeling of his eyes on her back.

“Did you walk here? Or is that your car out there?” He asks again, and though she can’t see him she can hear him moving to another aisle to grab what he needed.

“It’s not my car.”

“So you walked? I can give you a ride to-”

“It’s my friends. I’m fine.” The answer is more of a disgruntled sigh, one that she wishes held more of a bite. She wishes she knew what would hurt him just as he hurt her, wanting nothing more than to make him bleed the very same way he made her bleed. “Besides. Mormon girls aren’t supposed to be with guys without an escort.”

His grunt of shock makes a small amount of pride bloom in her chest as she hits the bell again, a couple times to see if anyone would bother to hear her.

“How’s Wiley? Haven’t seen that kid in ag-”

“HELLO?!” She calls, frustration claiming her as he walks a little closer now, hands filled with items. She takes one moment to see what he’s got. Packs of pudding, a bag of chips, and a slim jim.

“Dinner.” He answers at her look, shrugging a bit. “Fancy isn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer, shaking her head as she turns back to the counter. She would not admit to remembering what day it was, she would never admit anything to him.

Reaching for the bell once more before she is cut short by the lights in the mini mart flickering before going out for a moment, then when the lights come back on Via finds herself blinking at Steve in shock.

He blinks back before a thunk is heard from the bathrooms to the left.

“Has the worker been in the bathroom this whole time?” Steve asks, setting his items down before heading to the door and knocking lightly.

“Seriously?” Via scoffs. “You’re gonna bother their bathroom break?”

“I… well- What am I supposed to do Ollie?”

“Don’t call me that-” A loud thunk from the back of the store catches their attention before a couple cans of coke fall off one of the shelves.

“Nope.” Via grunts, snatching her gum and moving to the door. “I am not dying here.”

Steve is quick to follow her lead, only stopping to grab a box of matches before dashing out the door.

She, like a fool, waits for him to escape before shutting the door behind him and moving to dash to the safety of Cece’s car before he is calling out quickly. “Hey Ollie…via!”

“It’s late. I have to go.” She snaps, rushing to unlock the driver side door. “If my parents find out I’m this close to Hawkins Lab after dark I’m dead.”

“I… I was just going to say I like the….. Hair?” He mumbles, and she risks one look at him, blinking slowly. The nervous look on his face reminded her of the way things used to be, when they dressed up as pirates and detectives. But before she knows it his laughing face is flashing through her memory.

She doesn’t bother responding, giving him a glare before getting in the car and starting it up, leaving Harrington at that stupid mini mart.

It’s not long before they reach Cece’s house, and Via helps her friend stagger inside while doing her best not to wake her little sister that shared the room. She helps get her into bed, tucking her in before leaving the pack of donuts on the nightstand and sneaking out the window.

The walk to her house was filled with memories and anger, her arms wrapped around herself in a lame attempt to keep warm as her boots crunched on the gravel beneath her. For 10 minutes she combed over that entire interaction with Steve, thinking about all the things she could have said.

She could have told him to shove it, or that she hopes he loses all his hair. There were so many options and when her home came into view she had to stop from kicking herself at all the lame responses she had given.

Wiley called this house ‘Grimoire’ since he claims it’s the kind of house you would find in an old warlock's grimoire. And looking at it now, under the little light the moon could offer with the forest behind it, there was no better description. It looked… old and depressing.

The last few years with Nana all their extra money had gone to her chemo and treatments. When she passed they had been a bit…. Panicky to find somewhere new to live. They had no money.

This house had been a lucky find. Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had helped them fix it up a bit when they began renting it and over the summer they tried to make it their new home.

It wasn’t.

Nothing was these days because they were missing someone.

But Via couldn’t think about that right now, not as she climbed onto the stack of milk cartons she set up to help her climb through her window in the one story home, doing her best to keep quiet so she didn’t wake anyone up.

It didn’t matter in the end since the second she closes her window the sound of her door creaking fills the air as Wiley comes into view.

“Hi, Wye.” She greets, smiling softly as she sits on the edge of her bed to unlace her boots. “What are you doing up?”

“C…couldn’t… couldn’t-t sleep.” He shrugs coming a bit closer and sitting at the chair of her desk where all her art supplies were currently strewn about. Her spray painting gear is hidden in Cece’s trunk of course. “W-were y-y-y-you at…”

She watches him take a deep breath in, choosing to focus his attention on one of her drawings to ease himself and not make eye contact so this was less stressful to him. “Were y-you at Stev-ve’s birthday party?”

“No. I was with Eddie and Cece. They say hi and that they love you by the way.” She smiles, throwing her bag on the bed before pulling out the two chocolate bars. “Look what I got you.”

This pulls a smile from his face as he eagerly snatches one from her hand and tears it open.

“Did you talk to that Sinclair kid?” Via asks, watching him closely, watching as his face falls a bit and his cheeks redden.

“T-they were t-talking ab-bout a new c-c-c..”

“Comic? They are reading a new comic? You don’t have it?”

“N-no.” He shakes his head. “Goodnight.”

He gets up and walks out without another word, but he does send her a small smile and she hears the sound of his own door shutting soon after before she gets up herself.

Wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed she heads down the hall and sets the box of matches in the kitchen drawer where her mom complained about being out before she left, and then she goes into the bathroom to switch out the empty box of bandaids with the ones she got tonight, smiling a bit to herself when she shuffles back to her room.

The panel in the bottom of her tiny closet lifts easily, and she reaches in to hide the bottle of liquor she stole earlier, her hand grazing something familiar as she pulls it out. The broken half of a canvas she had made herself years ago.

She remembered the day her dad helped her staple it so she could paint it for her friend, the bob ross picture staring right back at her with a painted figure. It was messy and her work was choppy at best. An ugly painting by an untalented freak.

But it still pulled all the wrong strings to her heart, drawing tears to her eyes. “Happy birthday Steve Harrington.”

With that she shoves the canvas back in the hole and covers it back up before crawling into bed.

September 17th, 1975

Steve and Ollie sat together at the table, faces covered in Nana’s famous pudding as they giggled over the wax painting she had made.

The wax was out of her hair thanks to Nana pouring half a bottle of lotion in it, now she smelled of lavender and lotion which Steve thought hilarious.

They shared the last helping of Nana’s pudding right now, Ollie letting Steve have most of it since it is his birthday.

“Thank you for the gift. I can’t wait to hang it up.” He mumbles through a mouthful of pudding.

“Happy birthday, Stevie.” Ollie giggles. “You’re my best friend ever.”

September 19th, 1983 - Monday

“That damn tagger did it again Lottie!” Flip Fraser huffs, slamming the newspaper against the table as both his kids shuffle around him to get ready for their day. If he looked up at this moment he might have seen his oldest daughter's humored smile or the way his youngest son gives a fake glare at his sister.

“They did?” Lottie Fraser asks, dashing into the room with her blonde hair flowing behind her. “Show me.”

It was safe to say her parents were both a little too invested in this tagger situation, since ‘the tagger’ first appeared in the paper for tagging the grocery store with a portrait of JFK three months ago. Not Via’s best work but that one was a dare given by Gareth. Ever since they both always waited for the news to reveal more.

“A house outside of town. Closer to Hawkins Lab.” Her dad grunts, shaking his head in annoyance. “And no one saw a damned thing.”

“Oh my…” Her mother mumbles, sitting at the empty chair of the table as she reads the article with her husband. “It is a nice mural though. I can’t tell if Marilyn is crying or smiling.”

Via snorts as she remembers her conversation with Eddie. This draws her fathers attention as he looks at her with a smile, dropping the paper on the table and moving to stand and finish brushing his wife’s hair. “How was work yesterday, Olli….via. Olivia. I said Olivia and everyone heard it.”

“Work was fine, nothing really to note.” Via had applied to the town's movie theater the second she found out they were hiring, saving up money to help her parents and maybe get herself a car. It had mostly been the former whether they knew it or not, her parents never wanted her to ‘waste her money on them’. “It was our senior citizen discount night so not much business. Barely had to sweep up popcorn.”

“Good good.” He smiles, leaning to kiss her forehead as she passes to wash her bowl from breakfast.

“Wye? You ready for today?”

“Y-yes.” Wiley smiles, cheeks red as his dad watches him.

It’s silent for a moment before Lottie leans forward to kiss his cheek. “How has it been going with making friends, baby? You talk to anyone?”

Flip begins braiding her hair, as she continues staring at Wiley with such hope in her eyes.

“Th-they w-were all talking ab-b-b-”

“Deep breaths, bud.” Flip says gently, smiling when Wiley takes a deep breath in before starting again.

“They were all talking about a n-new comic book.” He goes slow, not that anyone in the room minds.

“Do you have the book?” Flip asks, watching Wiley shake his head.

“But it’s f-fine.”

“No bud, you did all your chores this week.” Flip grunts, finishing off Lottie’s hair and grabbing his wallet. Her fathers cheeks redden as he hands Wiley a dollar. “Is this enough?”

Wiley nods, jumping to hug him before running to grab his school stuff.

The rest of the morning falls into one of a rushed panic as everyone races around to grab everything they need. Her mom kisses her cheek and does her best to smooth out her daughter's hair before dashing to the blue car Nana left behind and nodding for Wiley to get in.

Her dad hops into the truck and waits patiently for her to hop in before zooming off to drop his daughter off.

He stops down the street, telling her to have a good day before driving off to let her walk the rest of the way, just as she requested at the beginning of the year.

She passes the familiar car that Steve and all his friends usually hang out around, noting that today he was by himself before walking past him to go into the building.

September 17th, 1983 - Saturday

Steve Harrington didn’t believe in fate, his mother had spent her days pouring wine and complaining about her horoscope. She claimed fate led her to his father and if that was fate then Steve wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

But seeing Ollie tonight had to have been fate. There was no other reasoning behind it. What are the chances he would see her on the night of his birthday? It. Was. Fate.

But that hateful, despising look she gave him before leaving? That was gut-wrenching.

It clung to him on the rest of the way home from his trip. He hadn’t wanted to go to the party in the first place, he would’ve rather wallowed in self pity all night like an idiot. But he knew if he didn’t make an appearance then Tommy would have said something, but by the time Steve’s car pulled up he saw the lights of police cars and figured he would just go home.

So he stopped on the way home, where he saw her.

She looked so different, seeing her on the first day of school this year had been a shock to the system already. But that punching feeling he got in his gut every time she made eye contact? That was a mix between guilt and amazement.

Walking into the empty house, that had just finished getting redone, he throws his keys on the fresh counter before dropping his junk on it and slamming his finger in the answering machine.

He already knows there wasn’t going to be any messages, not from either of his parents, yet he still feels disappointed when it’s confirmed. So he reaches into the cabinet and pulls out a candle, throwing one of the pudding cups open aggressively and shoving the candle into the cheap pudding.

“Happy Birthday Stevie.” He whispers, blowing out the candle and eating the pudding before heading up to his room and digging in his closet. There is a box of things he keeps hidden for when his friends come over and dig through his stuff, so they won’t see all the memories he keeps stored away.

The broken half of a beautifully painted canvas is the first thing that catches his attention, the colors blending in his sight as he grabs the sweater knitted for him and tosses it on quickly.

The painting had looked so good, he wondered what Ollie’s paintings looked like now. But before he can think about it too much he slams the lid shut and shuts the light off before heading to bed.

“Happy birthday indeed.” He sighs.

x Next Chapter x

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Pinky Promises - Prologue

Authors Note: The prologue to my story. Please enjoy! This story will update with 2 chapters every friday!

Word Count: 9,668

My Main Masterlist

Pinky Promises Masterlist

Next Chapter - Will be out soon!

Song of the Chapter : Bad Bad Leroy Brown

x Enjoy x

The summer of 1973 is spent mostly alone, in his driveway with the basketball he got for his last birthday, pretending not to stare down the street at the witch’ house.

It was the first rule his mother gave him whenever he played outside, the house at the end of the street was off limits. Under absolutely no circumstances as he was allowed to go near that house, let alone near the sidewalk in front of it. His mother often told him about the old woman that lived within it, how she ate the meat off of kids bones after sneaking them in.

It gave him nightmares for months.

And by the time he forgot about it he had overheard his mother telling her tuesday book club about the woman, talking about how she was an ‘alien bitch’ and Steve lost his mind. There was an actual alien living down the street, and he wanted to know where her UFO was.

He saw the old woman here and there, she often limped around her front yard with her face scrunched in pain as she did her best to pull the hose around and water the plants. Whenever she spot his staring she would always wave her arms which would send him running back inside to the safety of his mothers arms.

But no matter how scared he was of that house, he could not pull his eyes away from it.

He was once again staring at that house the day everything changed. Sitting in the grass, sweaty and out of breath from playing basketball by himself, digging out the grass as he did nothing but stare and stare and stare.

Maybe if he squinted enough he would be able to peer into her windows from this spot and see her intergalactic ufo hidden in her house.

He stares hard enough that for a second he thinks he opened the garage with his mind, sitting up straighter in shock as the older woman comes into view, limping quite a bit as she walks to the driveway.

She surveys the street with an excited smile, and when she spots him she once again pulls her hand up to wave, he doesn’t wave back. Too nervous that his mother might be watching from the windows.

But then he hears brakes squeal like the school bus he usually rides and he turns to watch a large green moving truck slide down the street. The driver, whose left arm was sticking out the window, smiles at him and waves his hand easily. And Steve can’t stop himself from lifting his own hand, eyes wide as he waves back before the truck drives off and makes it to the house at the end of the street.

He can’t tear his eyes away as the moving truck parks, the tall man hopping out smoothly and rushing over to the witch quickly. “Ma! What are you doing?!”

“Oh, don’t you start.” The woman laughs, letting him hug her gently before helping her shuffle to the porch as another car catches Steve's attention from down the street, his eyes following a red pickup truck blasting music as a blonde woman sings loudly to it. She doesn’t wave at Steve like the truck driver had, too busy leaning into whoever is in the passenger seat, still singing.

And he can’t stop staring as the truck makes it to the same house and everyone starts hopping out. The blonde that had been driving and the passenger side door swings to reveal a short brunette in a yellow sundress hopping out and screaming happily.

“NANA! NANA NANA!”

“Steven Harrington! Dinner in 30 minutes!” His mother snaps from the porch, pulling his attention away from the house finally, making him blink and nod. “You hear me? You better wash up before we eat. No dirt under your fingernails baby.”

She casts him a smile when he nods, making a kissy face before going back inside, leaving him by himself on the lawn of his house once more. This time there is a yellow blur dashing to him though.

He barely stands, swiping the dirt from the back of his pants with wide eyes, as the young girl from the red truck comes bounding in. Her smile is wide, her cheeks red, and Steve can do nothing but blink.

“Can we be friends?” She asks loudly, tripping up a little but keeping the pace as she finally hits the grass of his lawn and stops before him. “Do you live here? Can I see inside? Do you play basketball? Can we be friends?”

“I have friends.” Steve blurts, feeling his cheeks heat up as he risks a look to his front door before looking back at her. “I have a lot of friends.”

It was a lie, the truth was Steve struggled to make friends, it was something his father often lectured him about. Then he would yell at his mom about it, claiming she was babying him too much.

“My mom says you can never have too many friends. Can we play basketball?”

“You know how to play basketball?”

“No. Can you teach me?” A minute passes, both of them blinking slowly before he shrugs.

“I’m Steve.”

“I’m Olivia. But everyone calls me Ollie. We just moved in with my Nana. She lives down the street.” She points and turns to look at the house, and Steve takes a moment to take her all in. The bright yellow sundress and the sunflower headband paired with the yellow sandals. Her toes and fingernails were painted a nice pink, the very same his mother gets professionally painted on every week.

“Is that Ballet pink?” He blurts, and she nods.

“I want to be a ballerina when I grow up.”

“Steven Harrington. Get in here and wash up for dinner!” His mother calls and Steve feels an odd sinking in his stomach when he turns back to Olivia.

“You wanna play tomorrow?” He asks, smiling from ear to ear when she nods before dashing up the street to where the taller guy in the plaid waits for her patiently with a large smile on his face.

Ollie caught on to basketball fast….. Well she caught on to trying to dribble the ball as fast as she could. But Steve didn’t mind, he found that he absolutely loved being around her all the time.

She spent every day playing in his yard. They did everything from playing basketball to hunting for worms after a rainstorm, until his mom came rushing out to snatch him before he got a cold.

Soon enough the girl that had just moved down the street became his best friend, and his favorite party was that she never seemed to care or judge him for anything. He broke an arm on one of her Barbie’s? Suddenly the game shifts to surgery. He accidently trips her during basketball and she hurts her knee? She drags him home to get some pity candy from her grandma. She catches his father screaming in his face? She acts like nothing happens but lets him pick the game that day.

O llie seemed exceptionally talented at reading Steve like a book, every emotion and fear, and she seemed to know how to handle everything.

“Some people are just natural with that, baby.” His mom tells him at dinner one night, pinching his cheek. She had some slow music playing from the kitchen that would not be allowed if his dad were in town, but when he was gone Steve found his mother was the happiest. He loved it for her. “And I quite like your little friend….. when she’s not tracking mud in…..”

His mother liked his friend so much she took him to grab a gift for Ollie’s little brother, and even helped him wrap it in some bright paper the kid was sure to love.

He carried that very gift in shaking hands the day of Wiley’s birthday dinner, casting a quick smile to his mom who waited at the end of the driveway to make sure he walked there safely before knocking on the door.

There was no reason to be nervous, the Fraser family was as nice as they came, yet Steve couldn’t stop himself from shuffling around and trying to fix his hair in the way his father always wanted him to before the door swung open to reveal the tall man in the plaid shirt from that first day. Today he wore a nice clean button up.

“Stevie! How ya doin’?” Philip Fraser greets, opening the screen door to him with a large smile. “Come on in. I was just about to throw some food on the grill. Ollie is upstairs.”

The man pats him on the back happily, passing the boy and giving his wife a quick kiss on the way out the back door as Charlotte Fraser shuffles close.

“Stevie! How are you today sweetie? Is your mom coming for dinner?” She asks sweetly, the blonde hair swaying with her movements as she leans to grab the gift softly.

“N-no. She has her book club.” He mutters quietly, swiping his sweaty palms on his slacks. “Are there more kids coming?”

“Not today. Wiley is only turning 2 so he doesn’t have anyone to invite but Ollie wanted you to come.” Charlotte smiles and then sets his gift on the table to switch it out for a plate of mini sandwiches. “You want a snack?”

“C-can I take one to Ollie?”

“Of course.” And Steve didn’t understand why his spine loosened up at her easy smile, or why he felt so comfortable grabbing the sandwiches when he would never at his own house.

He waited for her to scream at him as he dashed up the steps, telling him no food upstairs or he’ll be punished, but it never came and soon enough he was down the hall to the open door which he heard Ollie dancing around in.

“STEVIE!” She yells, smiling widely as he offers her a sandwich. She pulls him into a heavy hug that has his cheeks warming before pulling back and grabbing the sandwich. “Im so glad you came. Wiley is too. Isn’t that right Wye?”

The two year old standing up in his crib giggles while trying to bounce on the mattress and Steve blinks slowly. “You share a room with your brother?”

“Yeah silly.” Ollie laughs, moving to bounce on her bed after she finishes her mini sandwich. “Why not?”

“Why don’t you have your own room?”

“Because there are no more rooms. We live with nana cause she’s not feeling good but soon enough we’re gonna buy a house here and I’ll get my own room!” Ollie giggles. “But until then Wy and I have sleepovers!”

Steve, for some unknown reason, feels an odd sense of jealousy creeping up. He had a large room by himself that always seemed so…. Empty. And yet here these two were giggling and bouncing in their shared room as close as ever.

But the feeling doesn’t last, soon enough dinner starts and he is sat between Mr. Fraser and Ollie at the table, laughing loudly at all the jokes. Unlike his house they all seem to enjoy talking over each other with jokes, mocking each others silly moments. Music is played in the back and everything is just so warm.

Mrs. Fraser makes sure all the kids plates are piled up with food before the adults and Mr. Fraser helps both him and Ollie cut into their steak.

“Mrs. Fraser?” Steve asks after some silence, looking to the oldest one at the table, Ollie’s nana. She merely smiles widely and shakes her head.

“Call me nana. And my last name is Rubin not Fraser sweetie.” She corrects softly, Steve feels his ears go pink.

“Nana?” He tries again, sitting up straighter. “Do you eat kids?”

Mr. Fraser spits some of his lemonade across the table from laughing so hard which sends baby Wiley into a fit of laughter as everyone blinks.

“Breakfast, lunch and dinner. I gnaw on their bones when I find myself peckish. Ollie here is lucky to have survived this long.” Nana teases, reaching to pinch at Ollie which makes the girl laugh loudly and scoot closer to Steve for protection.

“Don’t tell him that. You’ll scare him and Ollie won’t have a friend.” Mrs. Fraser laughs, swatting the older woman's arm lightly.

It’s then that Steve notices the similarities. Ollie looks like charlotte. And Charlotte looks like Nana. Spitting images as his own father would say.

So he peers at Mr. Fraser quickly. “Do you have any family?”

“I do. I have a sister who lives on the edge of Hawkins with her….. guy.” He clears his throat and Steve narrows his eyes.

“Guy?”

“She has a son-“ Nana starts.

“COUSIN EDDIE!” Ollie laughs.

“Yes. Cousin Eddie. We just don’t go out to visit very often.” Mrs. Fraser finishes. “Now how about some dessert. Stevie brought Wye a present cause he’s so thoughtful!”

The rest of the night follows that easy pattern, laughing and having fun.

Steve is ashamed to admit he has never felt so welcome.

Nana had the best records as he would come to find out, and she always played them on rainy afternoons when Steve and Ollie weren’t allowed to play outside. She sat in her rocking chair, letting them both dance around the living room as she worked on her knitting, smiling softly as they both belted the lyrics.

“BAD BAD LEROY BROWN!” Steve yells, slightly out of breath from all the jumping around, but as happy as ever as he spins with Ollie.

The Fraser’s never yelled about noise, and it was often enough that the adults joined in on the noise just for some light fun. The first day Mr. Fraser, Flip as Steve learned he likes to be called, came home he had shut up instantly and sat on the floor to fast that Nana thought he was getting sick.

He waited for Flip to come in and yell, maybe slap them for the noise, but the man nearly sang off key to the song and then asked what everyone wanted for dinner.

Steve had no clue what to do after that.

Now, after weeks with this family, he was so used to it he barely bat an eye when Flip came in and picked both him and Ollie up smoothly to carry them to the table.

“Sit down dorks. Nana has to take her medicine with mom and I’m making dinner.” Flip huffs, flicking both of their ears before moving about the kitchen easily. “Would your mom like to join us tonight Stevie?”

“She’s in Vegas with her friends.” Steve shrugs which makes Flip stop quickly.

“I thought your dad was out of town?”

“He is. Nevada for the next week.”

“So…. Who is watching you bud?” Even though he kept his voice light everyone knew Flip was mad, the hands on his hips the indicator for it.

“My mom made sure I had tv dinners for the weekend. I'm good on my own.” Steve shrugs, reaching to steal some cards from Ollie which has her groaning out and starting an argument.

That night Charlotte tucks Steve in on the couch, making sure he is comfortable before shuffling down the stairs where Flip was doing laundry. Neither of them realized their voices traveled unfortunately.

“Leavin a boy his age. Damn bastards.” Flip murmurs, slamming the lid to the wash machine.

“We could call cps.” Lottie murmurs softly.

“Cause they help with everythin’ else?! How many times have we called for Edward? They are useless and it would just start a big fight with the Harringtons.” He sighs back. “Not worth it. He can stay here when they are gone. I'm sure it doesn’t happen often.”

Steve didn’t want to admit he was crying into the couch.

And he didn’t bother to tell them how often it happens.

The rest of that summer followed the same pattern, dance sessions in their living room. Basketball, though Ollie still couldn’t quite get it. Worm hunting, which ended the second he put a worm in his mouth on her dare.

They only got in trouble once, when they woke Wiley up from a nap due to a fight over a broken sandal. They were put in timeout for 10 minutes until they apologized to each other and to Wiley.

Steve spent a lot of nights over at their house, and he knew that was a tense subject for Ollie’s parents but they never got mad at him.

When school started Flip made sure to give him a ride since he went to the same school as Ollie, both of them buckled in the truck with the windows down as Flip played their favorite tracks over and over.

“BAD BAD LEROY BROWN!” Ollie sings, in her iconic handmade yellow sundress.

“The MEANEST MAN IN THE WHOLE DARN TOWN!” Steve sings back in his new outfit bought last week.

Flip laughs at the two of them, and when he pulls up to the school he actually walks them to the door.

“Alright. Get together and let me get a picture.” The two of them are quick to hug each other, smiling from ear to ear as Flip takes the picture before kissing both their heads and making sure they get into the school safely.

When they are forced to split up at the middle hallway he feels Ollie squeeze the hand that had been holding his tightly and finds her crying. “What if I don’t make friends?”

“You’ll make friends.” He soothes.

“But i'll miss you.” She cries.

“I’ll meet you here right after school okay? And we’ll play barbie surgery again. You’re my best friend.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.” He smiles, holding his empty hand for her to link pinkies. “Right here. After school.”

“Right here. After school.” She nods, and they split up.

During his recess hour he sneaks back into the lunch room to give her a hug before heading back out, just to prove he could.

And at the end of school they meet up right where they promised so Nana could drive them home, both talking each others ears off about school.

The year follows the same pattern, and when Steves birthday rolls around his entire class is invited but not Ollie.

He hears his parents arguing about it one night, listening to them yell back and forth.

“That’s his friend! He’ll be upset!” His mother.

“He has friends in his class! I don’t want those freaks in my home!” His father.

“Stop thinking about yourself and think about your son for once-“ there is a heavy sound of skin slapping against skin and a thunk that Steve recognizes all too well, making him stand up and dash to his own room before his dad catches him eavesdropping.

As upset as he is he doesn’t ask for Ollie at his party, too afraid to get hit.

The Fraser’s have a birthday dinner for him the next weekend. Nana makes her famous pudding and Ollie gives him a new basketball, one she painted herself for him.

Although she is upset Ollie never brings up the party, he’s sure her parents told her not to.

Ollie’s birthday is close to Halloween so she throws a costume party every year.

Her parents invite her class as well as him and Steve is nervous about the party.

His mom shows up with him, and Charlotte does a good job of hiding her shock when his mom tells them she will be staying. And everyone but Nana does a good job of pretending there isn’t a bruise on his moms cheek.

The backyard is crowded with goblins and ghouls and at first Steve feels lame in his pirate costume before Ollie shows him her detective costume and they rush to play Barbie’s in her room with the party downstairs. Wiley does a good job of not swallowing anything and Nana doesn’t snitch when she finds them hiding from the party.

Things follow that same pattern.

Summer passes again, and the family learns that Wiley hates firecrackers more than life itself when they throw him a Fourth of July birthday party since his birthday is on the 3rd.

The school year starts again and Flip gives them rides.

Ollie remains his best friend throughout it all.

Nana gets really sick the beginning of his 6th grade year and Ollie’s 5th grade. And though they all try to play happy Steve knows the family is upset.

The first day of school he walks to their house, just as he does every year, in the newest outfit his mother bought him.

Ollie wears a homemade sundress, just like every year before that, this one purple with polka dots. And Wiley is dressed in his own handmade outfit.

Both are posing for pictures together, Wiley complaining about being late for 2nd grade loudly until Steve shows up and he is thrown into the pictures too.

When nana comes out to wish them off she kisses all their heads, including Steves.

Flip makes sure they all get in the building and all three of them hold hands until that damned hallway.

“Here. After school. Just like every other year.” Steve smiles, holding out his pinkie.

Ollie links them, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Promise.”

He then holds his pinky out for Wiley, who links it slowly. “And you’re gonna make friends this year. I know it Wye.”

They split up after that. At lunch Steve isn’t able to sneak off to see Ollie since her lunch hour isn’t until later. But he does see Wiley sitting by himself at the park during recess, rushing to say hi to the boy before his teacher catches him.

That afternoon they meet up, Wiley silent as ever. And when they see that Charlotte is there to pick them up instead of Nana, Steve just knows that things are gonna be different.

It’s halfway through that year that Nana ends up hospitalized. It was a rough night for the Fraser’s.

Nana had been a little nauseous at dinner and had gone to bed early, kissing everyone goodnight.

And after Lottie had tucked everyone in, Steve on the couch since his own parents were on their anniversary trip, she went to check on her mom once more before bed.

The scream that followed scared Steve so much that he was sobbing before he even knew what was going on. Ollie and Wiley came rushing down the stairs to cry with him on the couch as Flip called 911 and soon enough Nana was being rushed out by the paramedics.

They were all in their pajamas in the waiting room of the hospital. Wiley sitting in Charlottes lap sleeping while Flip sat in between Steve and Ollie so they could both lay their heads on his shoulders to try and sleep.

It isn’t until 3am when the nurse comes out.

“She just woke up if your family wants to go say hi. She’ll be a little out of it and you won’t have long because we have to get her in a room.” She explains. “Family only.”

So the Fraser’s all shuffle up, Charlotte passing Wiley to Flip so he could carry him as she grabs Ollie’s hand. Steve stays on the chair, watching them all way away until Ollie turns around. “Stevie? Come on.”

He has never moved faster in his life.

Nana hums lightly as they all kiss her cheek, seeming content.

“Is she dying?” Wiley sobs on the car ride home.

“No baby.” Charlotte answers, turning around to rub his cheek. “She’s just sick. She needs to start chemo is all.”

The tears in her own eyes tell Steve enough.

For the rest of the week the Fraser’s are pulled out of school since they were carting back and forth from the hospital.

Steve takes the bus since Flip can’t give him a ride and he walks home.

His dad hits him in the summer between 6th grade and 7th grade.

With Nana back home the Fraser’s were on a new schedule to make sure she made it to chemo every week. Which meant Steve was left home on Wednesdays much to his father’s disappointment.

On this Wednesday his father had tripped over a shoe by the front door that Steve had left there in his rush to get in the shower, and it was met with screaming and slamming.

His first instinct was to shut his door and wait it out, his father had moods like this a lot and this was the best thing to do. Stay out of the way. Mom will calm him down when she gets home from the store.

It isn’t until he hears the feet stomping up the stairs that he knows this time is going to be different, his throat tightening up as his hands begin to shake.

The second the door slams open he is already crying, yelling out an “I’M SORRY!” As his father lifts the shoe over his head and slams it on Steves cheek, the boy curling in a ball as hit after hit comes.

He screams for Flip, and he screams for Ollie when his father kicks his stomach. When his dad storms out and slams the door Steve crawls under his bed and cries for Charlotte and Nana, wanting nothing more than to be sitting with them.

He wanted to be with Ollie and Wiley.

Anywhere but here.

His mom cries when she sees Steve's bruised and swollen cheek, excusing herself from the room immediately and leaving Steve to suffer through a silent dinner with his father, afraid of every sound he made. The cutlery is too loud against the plate, not chewing quiet enough. Maybe he ate too much and his father would get mad, or maybe is he didn’t clean the plate his dad would get mad about the waste.

The next day he is embarrassed when Ollie comes over to play. She dashes to him with a large smile that falls the second she sees his face.

“Stevie-“

“I can’t play today.” He mutters, not wanting to move his lip too much.

“Are you okay-“

“I can’t play today, Ollie. Go away.” He snaps, turning to make sure his dad can’t see her. “Seriously. Fuck off.”

He had never cussed before, and he was terrified to do it in the first place. His palms were sweating and stomach sinking as he said it.

Ollie’s eyes widened at his language before she nods, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and then dashing up the street before his dad saw her.

The first day of school that year was a bit weird, mostly because Steve didn’t really know if he should wait for the bus or go with the Fraser’s.

He would be in middle school now while Ollie still had another year at the elementary school so rides weren’t really going to be given but he had never missed a first day since they moved in. His questions were answered when Flip whistles loudly down the street and waves his hand to call him over.

Pictures were taken, Wiley complaining, this time with a heavy stutter that made Steve's stomach sink at the thought of what the other kids were going to say to him.

Charlotte kisses their heads as she passes, Nana doing the same before they are heading off to the older woman’s doctors appointment and Flip ushered everyone in his truck.

Now that they were older it was a bit of a tighter fit, all of them laughing as they teased eachother.

“Why’d you grow so much Harrington? Your elbow is digging into my side.” Flip teases.

“Only cause Ollie is taking up all the space….. with her EGO.” Steve jokes back which makes the girl gasp.

“No! It’s Wiley! I swear!”

And when the laughing subsides Flip puts on the track of favorites he always used to play the first year they moved in. And once again everyone was singing the same old classic lyrics.

Bad bad Leroy brown.

When he pulls up to the elementary school Ollie holds out her pinky.

“See you later?”

“Promise.” Steve smiles, linking pinkies.

“After school?”

“I have basketball tryouts. Dinner?”

“Deal.” She waits for Wiley to hop out before jumping out herself and fixing her homemade dress, kissing the air for her dad as Wiley turns and stutters out a “by-bye ste-eve.”

Steve smiles and says bye and the two hold hands into the school as Flip takes Steve to his new school.

“You don’t have to take me.” He mutters, feeling guilty. “I know it’ll make you late for work.”

“Nah. I already told my boss I had to change my clock in time for ya. Can't leave Stevie behind.” Flip laughs, shrugging like it was no big deal.

But it was a big deal, and Steve didn’t know how to tell him that. So when Flip pulled up to the school and smiles at him the boy merely smiles back and mutters out a quick “thank you.”

But before he closes the door he turns and makes eye contact. “You’re the best.”

Flips' smile eases all of Steves anxiety as he makes his way into the new school, missing Ollie.

Steve makes the basketball team since the word tryouts in middle school is very very very loose. It’s more of a “you showed up. Great. Let’s play” but he still brags to his dad that he made it.

“Good. You might actually be worth a damn at something.” His dad scoffs. His mother kisses his face with an excited smile and talks about going out and buying him new tennis shoes to play in.

When his dad goes out of town for his birthday he’s a little upset, until his mom reminds him that Ollie can come to the party so he makes sure everything is perfect.

When she gets there he introduces her to all his friends, Tommy H and Kyle S both make snippy comments and drag Steve away.

The party is a little awkward and he knows Ollie struggles to make friends with the older kids.

Charlotte calls her in early, a tense look on her face as she wishes Steve a happy birthday and tells him they left his gift on the table, she keeps a hand on Ollie’s shoulder as they leave.

Later that night he hears his mom in the dining room gossiping with her friends over wine. “Did you see that ratty dress? Oh my god. That poor girl walks around in those things all the time. Her mom thinks she can sew.”

“And the way Charlotte kept talking to you. What a tramp. Got pregnant right out of highschool and acts like we would forget it.”

Steve rushes up the stairs for an early bedtime.

He never thanks Charlotte or Ollie for coming.

He meets ‘Cousin Eddie’ after school in the middle of the year.

The boy has a buzzcut and a very large bruise on his face that has other kids whispering as they pass. He keeps his eyes casted away and his hands in his jacket.

Steve would have avoided him if his basketball hadn’t rolled right up to him, the other kid bending slowly to pick it up like it hurt to do so.

“Sorry man.” Steve mutters, coming to grab the ball. “Nice jacket.”

And for a second the snippy remark surprises him, he never thought he would say something like that so easily. The kid in front of him blinks slowly, his eyes widening as he blushes heavily. To his credit he didn’t look down at the jacket.

Truth was it was a crap jacket, there were too many holes and a stain on the front that looks purple. But since the jacket was green Steve knew that it was a giant blood stain.

“You’re new right. In 8th grade?” Steve starts again, feeling a little guilty about his comment.

“Y….. yeah.” The kid nods.

Before Steve can respond a laugh is heard from the side, turning to see Tommy H walking up. “What happened to your face?!”

“My dad.” He answers truthfully, shrugging like it didn’t matter. That makes Steves stomach tighten.

“Well mommy should have bought you some makeup to cover it up freak.” Tommy sneers, bumping his elbow against Steve which is cue for laughter, against his better judgment Steve laughs too.

They walk away after that, leaving the kid waiting on the sidewalk again.

Later that evening Steve goes up the street and knocks on the door. It’s nana that opens it.

“Stevie. Come on in.” She smiles, and all her movements are slow as she opens the door, letting him in. “Ollie’s down in her room.”

So he gives Nana a kiss on the cheek before heading downstairs where they set up Ollie’s room over the summer. She has paint in her hair when he gets there, and he takes a second to look at what she’s painting.

“What. Is. That?” He laughs and soon enough she is proudly showing him the painting.

“Bob ross silly! Nana got me his paint set. Isn’t it pretty?”

It was. Not that Steve was shocked since Ollie always had a talent with art.

“Where are your mom and dad?”

“Mom stayed late at work for more hours. Dad is over picking up my cousin for dinner tonight.” She explains, watching as he falls onto her bed before going back to the painting.

“Your cousin?”

“Yeah. My aunt just passed in an accident. And things got pretty bad with his dad so his dads brother is taking him in.” She shrugs. “Just while Uncle Allen is gone.”

“Where’s he gone to?”

“Prison. Child abuse.”

“I didn’t know your aunt died.” Steve blurts, blinking.

“We had her funeral last week.” Ollie mutters, focusing on a tree. And they continue to hang out in comfortable silence before Flip gets home and starts dinner.

By the time he calls down the stairs Ollie is dragging Steve up, meeting Wiley halfway to give him a fist bump before making their way to the table.

Ollie hugs the new guest tightly, followed by Wiley and when both siblings pull away Steve can only blink.

Cousin Eddie, Eddie , was the new kid from earlier.

They blink at each other, both blushing heavily. Eddie from embarrassment and Steve from guilt.

Charlotte makes them sit and eat.

Both are silent during dinner.

Eddie, unfortunately, became a constant.

A constant at school, the 8th grader being teased by ALL of Steves friends and though Steve never did any of the teasing he never did anything to stop it.

And that always left him feeling guilty because Eddie was also a constant at home too.

Ollie’s cousin made weekly appearances, once a week he would hang out with the Fraser’s. Eat dinner with them and hang out with his cousins.

It’s not like Steve minded this, he was just always a little aggravated. He never really got to hang out with them anymore, between basketball and his new friends he found that he saw less and less of his best friend so when he did get to hang out he didn’t really want Eddie ruining it.

Not to mention he didn’t want Eddie telling Ollie about his behavior. It was an embarrassing fact.

Like today, during lunch Steve had cackled loudly when someone tripped Eddie, and he hadn’t thought much of it until he made it to the Fraser’s home where Eddie and Ollie were both at the table drawing while Wiley was on the couch reading.

“What’s up?” Steve asks, feeling uncomfortable at the fact that no one greeted him. Did Eddie tell? Was Ollie mad?

“Nana is at the hospital.” Ollie sighs, not looking up from her sketch. “Mom and dad with her.”

And suddenly it makes sense, so Steve sits at the table, making eye contact with Eddie before quickly looking away to grab a paper and sketch with them both.

Feeling nothing but guilt.

He breaks his first sin a week before summer starts, and is left reeling.

He had always been a….. bystander to Eddie’s bullying, now he was more. The second the words left his mouth he knew there was no going back.

It starts in the hallway, Steve and Tommy on their way to class as Eddie digs around his locker.

“Look at that mess.” Tommy scoffs, stopping the group from walking and looking to Eddie’s locker. “Clean your room freak.”

Eddie looks over, confused as Tommy blinks. “You are living in the locker aren’t you? Homeless and stuff.”

The friends around them “ooo” and “ohhhhhh” but Eddie seems to blink before standing straighter.

“You know your mom sticks her tits out for the guy at the deli counter to get a discount?” And just like that everything turns, because Eddie Munson had snapped back. Everyone gasps and laughs and Tommy whirls to Steve with a mad look.

“The fuck you say freak?” Tommy snaps and Eddie shrugs, casting a look to Steve.

“Tell Ollie I say hello.” And Steve gets the threat laced in his words, his spine tensing and his fists clenching.

“Funny you should talk about Tommy’s mom when yours wrapped her car around a tree.”

Low. Blow.

Eddie slams his locker, turning quickly and Steve is sure he’s about to get decked before Eddie blinks and walks down the hall without another word, everyone laughing.

And Steve knows that he’s made the wrong choice.

Eddie stops hanging out after that, in fact Ollie stops talking about her cousin all together and there’s a put off look in her eyes whenever he is brought up.

Steve asks one day, trying to seem casual as he pretends to do homework, “what’s going on with your cousin?”

Ollie doesn’t look at him when she answers. “He actually….. uh…..well he asked me not to talk to you about him.”

“Oh.” Was all Steve could say. “But we’re best friends. You tell me everything. We tell eachother everything.”

“Then maybe you’ll tell me why he asked that.” Ollie states, finally looking at him.

Steve doesn’t answer, but they both knew.

His dad sends him to basketball camp that summer, for 3 weeks. When he gets back the Fraser’s go on vacation and don’t get back until the last day of summer.

When the first day rolls around there is something different in the air.

Maybe it’s the fact that Wiley doesn’t talk at all, too scared of the speech impediment. Maybe it’s the way Flip seems a bit off, not really smiling all that much, lost in the grief of his little sister being gone. Or Charlotte staring at her own mom who was too tired to leave the porch.

But nonetheless the three kids pose for a picture, smiling as much as they can.

And when Flip drops Wiley off the kid doesn’t say anything, he just tries a smile and heads in. Flip makes sure he makes it in the doors before heading to the middle school.

“Have a good day.” He tries to smile, but it doesn’t hit the way it normally does. And when they make it to the doors Steve sees Tommy and the others waiting for him so he merely waved at Ollie before walking away. No pinky promise.

She joins the art club, and somehow manages to stay out of direct fire of Tommy and the rest.

Basketball takes all his time, and now that Ollie is in another club that meets on different days they rarely hang out.

But it’s fine, he tells himself. It’ll go back to normal soon.

That summer Eddie is sent to juvenile detention camp, having been caught with weed, and Steve gets to hang out with Ollie all summer.

No guilt, no basketball crap since Tommy is on a cruise with his parents. Just like how things used to be.

They spend afternoons on the back porch with Nana, painting and hanging out under the shade and sun. Wiley joins them after his speech therapy and they all laugh and giggle like they used to.

Ollie breaks her toes over a sprinkler head during a water fight one day, which makes everyone laugh in the hospital room when they see the x-rays and they start calling her ‘pirate’ since the boot they gave her clunks around like a peg leg.

Steve spends the night on their couch when his parents are gone, which at this point is every other day.

During a bad week with his dad he takes a pretty good beating over a snappy comment and Ollie cleans up the cut in his cheek, using a coke cam from her fridge to press against the swelling as they sat huddled together by the very same fridge to fight the heat.

“It’s just the heat wave.” Steve lies. “He’s cranky cause of it.”

“Yeah.” She lies back, pressing the cold can to the blistered lip for a second. “Just the heat wave.”

He liked that she let him lie in that moment, he liked that he knew she wasn’t judging him for needing to lie either.

The first day of his Freshman year Steve is once again decked out in new clothes from the nicest store, his mother kisses his cheek on the way out and reminds him about basketball tryouts.

He doesn’t go to to the Fraser house, since the car taking him to school had already pulled up, and he misses the way Nana waves at the end of the driveway.

He manages to convince his mom not to throw a themed birthday party that year, already knowing his friends would make fun of him for it. She settles on a pool party and lets him invite whoever he wants.

“Dads not gonna be in town.” She reminds him. “How about Ollie?”

“We’re used to doing the weekend after, already.” He lies. “Why change plans? It didn’t work last time.”

She laughs at the memory and heads off to find something to do as he suffers in his own guilt.

The party is fun, fun enough that he forgets about Ollie for a few hours.

And when the next weekend rolls around and the phone rings he is surprised to find that an upperclassman had dialed him asking to bring friends over.

His mother, having left early that morning for vegas, left the house to him and before he knew it there was a high schooler in every surface of the home. The pool party was packed.

“Someone’s at the door for you.” Carol giggles, rolling her eyes. “Some girl in a sundress.”

And he already knows Ollie is at the door, excitement and dread filling him in one go.

When he opens the door he sees an excited grin break across her face. “Stevie! Hey!”

“Hey, Ollie.” He grunts, shutting the front door behind him quickly. “It’s just Steve.”

“Right. Sorry. Steve.” She nods, blushing a bit before holding out a bowl with a lid. “Nanas favorite pudding.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He tries to smile. “I could have gotten it after dinner-“

“It’s already 6 and nana went to bed.” Ollie shrugs. “Not feeling well. We ate already….. I tried to call.”

“Sorry. Guess the party is a bit carried away.” He tries to laugh before clearing his throat. “What’s that?”

She blinks before looking down to the painting leaning against her calf, covered in a sheet. “Oh. I painted your birthday gift this year. If that’s okay?”

“Of course.” He smiles, a genuine one this time. “Let’s see it.”

And she smiles back, lifting the canvas and showing him the oil painting. It was a bob ross painting, except she ended up adding two smaller figures that looked like them walking along the lakes edge. They were insanely detailed.

“This is amazing Ollie.” He sighs, holding it.

“It’s nothing. I…, I gotta go.” She mumbles, stepping away from the porch with a small wave. “Goodnight.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I have a curfew.” She shrugs, walking off quickly.

He sets the painting and pudding down on the counter. By the time he wakes up in the morning he sees that the pudding had been eaten with the bowl shattered in his living room.

It takes him a bit to find the painting, finding it outside broken in half.

He only has half of it, torn and splintered, but never finds the second half.

Guilt gnaws at him as he hides his half of it in the closet.

He tries to call on October 13th, her birthday, but the phone rings and rings and rings. He waits, foot tapping impatiently before his coach yells for him to get his ass to practice. Then after practice he tries calling again, this time someone picks up.

“H-hel-hello?”

“Wiley, hey it’s Steve. Is your sister around?” He mumbles out, stomach clenching at the kids stutter that he tries to ignore. There is shuffling, sound of footsteps on the stairs before the phone is picked up again.

“This is Via.” She mumbles into the phone.

“Via? When did you start going by Via?” Steve teases, something tightened in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. “I just called to say happy birthday.”

“Thanks Steve. I gotta go.” She mutters before the line goes dead, leaving Steve standing in the school hallway with a tight pain in his chest and no one in sight.

He takes her gift to her the weekend after the call, it’s some weird paint set thing he saw at the store, and just like the very first time he carried a gift over to the house his palms are sweaty.

When he gets there he is taken aback, because on the porch there is a brunette with long hair that reaches her lower back watching him walk up with narrowed eyes.

“Hello?” He calls, reaching the porch.

“Hello?” She parrots, a hiss to her tone.

The door freaks open and the screen door budges after that, Ollie comes out a little too focused on carrying a pizza box and not spilling the two drinks she was carrying on top of it. The brunette dashes to help, grabbing the drinks and shuffling back to the haven of blankets they had set on the porch.

“Ollie, hey.” Steve clears his throat, catching her attention finally. “I just brought over your birthday gift.”

“Oh, thanks.” She attempts a smile, and he attempts to ignore that painful feeling in his chest as her tear streaked face.

“Have you been crying? What happened?” He asks quickly, stepping closer. She steps back, keeping the pizza box between them.

“Nothing. I’m good.” Ollie shrugs. “Cece and I are having a girls night though. So-“

“Are your parents home?”

“No. With nan at the hospital-“

“Is she okay?”

“Eddie is on his way Steve. You should go.”

“I thought it was a girls night?” He didn’t know why he was doing this, but that feeling in his chest was growing tighter and tighter, panic clawing up his throat.

“You gonna mock him for that too?” It’s Ollie’s new friend Cece that sneers it, and Steve blinks at her. “Like your friends mock Via at school?”

“People are making fun of you?” Steve mumbles, sounding completely gutted which isn’t far off from how he was feeling.

“Goodnight Steve.” Ollie sighs, dismissing him.

“Goodnight.” Steve mumbles back, setting his gift on the edge of the porch and moving to walk away. The screen door opens one more time and he turns to see Wiley coming out carrying two more cups full of orange soda, smiling as he shuffles to the blankets. Cece smiles and scoots over to welcome him in as a van parks in front of the house, the driver hopping out in a sleek leather jacket that Steve has to blink at before he recognizes Eddie.

He doesn’t turn back after that, merely rubs his chest as he heads home.

That summer is….. an odd one.

His dad takes a pretty good swing at him the first day, popping him in the cheek hard enough to send him falling to the floor of the kitchen. His mom cries out, having to excuse herself because she didn’t want to cry in front of him and his dad storms out soon after.

He goes to the only place he could think, Ollie’s house, tears clogging his eyesight. She sits with him on the kitchen floor once more, this time a pack of peas on his cheek as he tries to catch his breath. He holds her hand, the only thing really helping, and she murmurs soft words to try and get him to calm down.

She calls it a panic attack 40 minutes later when he’s calmer and the peas are melted.

He asks where her family is and she shrugs and says “out.”

She lets him sleep on the couch that day.

He wakes up a couple hours later to Flip smiling at him, mumbling something about “long time no see stranger.”

And he is brought to the dinner table where he sits my Wiley with Charlotte across from her younger son and Flip by her at the end of the table. The other end of the table stays empty, but the plate is still set up for Nana. And Ollie’s seat across from him is covered in dried paint but she’s nowhere in sight.

“She and her friend Cece are over there. It’s there only night Ceces mom is off work so Ollie….via likes going over there.” Flip smiles, catching the half glare Charlotte sends him when he nearly calls her Ollie.

Wiley sends him an amused glance and Steve smiles in excitement at the fact that the boy did so, and he eats dinner with half the Fraser family for the first time in forever.

The first day of his sophomore year Steve Harrington drives to school, picking up Tommy and his new girlfriend Carol on the way. They play music on the radio, Carol laughing at how cheesy the songs are as Tommy yells loudly at every car they pass on the way there.

They take up their usual spot at the lunch table outside the front doors, summoning their friends and bothering people they don’t like.

Eddie Munson passes, glaring at Tommy enough to have the shorter haired boy stand down for once as he walks in. The second the doors shut behind him the group all turns to each other to snicker about him though.

Cowards, Steve thinks to himself. Blinking slowly when he realizes he is a coward as well.

“Hey Nancy, Hey Barbara.” Carol coos as the two girls pass, the obvious mockery in her voice making the girls blanche and rush to the doors quickly.

“You both realize that we do want at least…. Some friends. Right?” Steve laughs, tossing a raisin at Tommy.

“Not a lot to pick from here. Aw look here. This one has her daddy pull up front.” Carol sneers, and Steve looks up just in time to see Ollie hop from the truck, giving her dad a smile before closing the door. He nods once before driving off and Ollie walks up the path in a shirt and skirt outfit.

The skirt goes past her knees, and though Steve saw what the vision for the outfit was he knew Carol would only see one thing. “What are you? A Mormon freak?”

Ollie doesn’t bother looking up, she merely walks past and meets with the brunette at the side of the door who wears a short skirt and a wide smile.

“Oh I see. The slut and the Mormon. Cute couple.” Tommy calls after them making kissy sounds that have the brunette, Cece, rolling her eyes and dragging Ollie inside.

Steve drags his eyes away, blinking slowly as reality hits. This was going to be a long year.

After a pretty good fight with his dad Steve finds himself sitting on the Fraser porch, bleeding from his eyebrow and lip and not really knowing what to do.

There were no cars in the driveway, so there truly was no point in being here, no one’s home. Or at least that’s what he thought, because before he knows it the door is opening slowly and drawing his attention.

For a second he thinks it’s Ollie and he struggles to find a proper excuse as to why he is here, since he is sure he wouldn’t be welcome after the way his friends have treated her.

But then he sees Nana, looking sick and tired, but she smiles when she sees him. “Stevie? Come on in.”

“I can’t stay.” He lies, eyes welling with tears.

“Oh come on Stevie. I just made some tea.” And with that he shuffles in after her, keeping an arm out to help her across the floor, making sure she doesn't fall. She limps quite a bit, grunting under her breath from the pain, but tries not to show it as she makes it to her sitting chair and slides into it.

He sits on the couch, watching her closely as she watches him.

“I should have grabbed you some ice. Hold on Stevie….” When she goes to get back up he is quick to stand and shake his own head, going to grab something himself before she can.

“I made you something for your birthday.” She mumbles when he gets back, leaning by her chair to grab it and toss it over to him. The green fabric is soft in his hands and he spreads it between his fingers to admire the sweater, something tight pulling in his chest as he merely just looks at it.

“You knit this?” He asks in amazement, moving to put it on immediately.

“I have a lot of time with the chemo.” She hums, closing her eyes quickly and gripping the sides of her chair.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just nauseous.” Nana hums again, breathing in. “Tell me what you have been up to, distract an old lady.”

So he spends the rest of the day telling her about everything, and asks as many questions as possible and he makes her lunch. When he leaves in the afternoon she walks him to the door and kisses his forehead.

“You take care, okay?”

“Will do.”

“And you take care of my Ollie too.” And shame coats him the entire way home.

The pool party was a terrible idea, this much Steve knew as he stumbled his way across his living room. With his parents gone for the week, pretending to be celebrating their anniversary together, Steve told his friends at school that the house would be all his. And so kicked off the first event of summer, everyone had shown up with bottles of liquor and bags of chips.

And now, with it being late in the afternoon, all Steve wanted to do was sleep.

“Steve!” Someone calls, laughing as a body is thrown into his. He only registers it as Tommy when the bad breath hits his nose. “The mormon freak is outside your house!”

What? What Mormon freak?

He must ask as much because Tommy is shoving him to the door with a cackle. He stumbles at the door, using the frame to catch himself as Ollie comes into view, tears streaming down her face while Steve blinks.

His first reaction is to push forward and grab her, but then he realizes that all his friends are behind him and that is not an option. It would ruin everything, his reputation would be the first to go.

“Are you crying?” He slurs, trying to blink away the dizziness.

“I….” Ollie starts, stopping short when Tommy cackles from behind Steve.

“Dude, what is she wearing? A potato sack?” He jokes and the group that had built up all laughs as well, he watches Ollie cast her eyes around and come to terms with the fact that they had an audience.

She doesn’t say anything, instead she turns quickly and runs off.

He spends the next week debating if he had imagined that whole thing.

He spends the days deep cleaning the house before his parents get back, trying not to gag with every pile of mysterious fluid he mops up. And once he is sure that his father would walk in without any suspicion of what went down he finally relaxes and takes a breath.

And for the first time in a week he walks outside, taking in a breath of fresh air as she shuffles to sit on his lawn just as he used to growing up, bathing in the heat of the sun as he relaxes. That is until the sound of a truck pulls his attention from down the street, making him snap his head to the house he knew too well. The house he had all but grown up in.

The moving truck was yellow this time, the same color of Ollies dress the day they moved in.

Steve watches, picking himself up quickly as the Fraser family piles into the trucks. Flip gets into the moving truck, wearing an old flannel and a sad look. Wiley struggles to hop into the passenger side but manages all the same.

They start up the truck and without another second start heading down the street, and Steve watches from the sidewalk as Wiley waves out the window slowly. Steve waves back.

The red truck follows with Charlotte in the driver seat. Her cheeks are red and puffy and she plays no music for the drive out, she lifts a single hand to Steve.

Nanas blue car follows next, Ollie driving it.

She does not wave.

{ Next Chapter }

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fan #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanart #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Pinky Promises Cast List

Meet the cast to the Steve Harrington Fanfic I wrote! Season 1.

Main Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Emma Mackey as Olivia 'The Bitch' Fraser

"I'm not insulting you, Harrington. I'm simply describing you."

Jared S Gilmore as Wiley 'The Dork' Fraser (young)

"I didn't want to be invited to their doofus and dipshits anyways." (He definitely did.)

(He will be recasted when they get older, this is just for them as kids. Highschool him will be played by Adrian Greensmith)

Margot Robbie as Charlotte 'The Teen Mom' Fraser

"I fell in love young, nothing else mattered. What people say never matters to me."

Adam Driver as Philip 'The Confused Dad' Fraser

"I have three kids and I can't find two of them. My math might be wrong but that makes me a bad dad doesn't it?"

Joe Keery as Steve 'The Hair' Harrington

"We used to be friends Ollie. You remember that?"

Rose Byrne as Cynthia 'The Neighborhood Queen' Harrington

"I liked your little friend Stevie, too bad about her family."

Mimi Keene as Cecelia 'The Slut' Miller

"Don't look now- Eddie you seriously need to take directions better."

Marc Maron as Mr. Harston

"You got issues. You know that kid?"

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Pinky Promises Chapter List

"Steve Harrington and Olivia Fraser had been best friends once upon a time, so close that one would assume they had been attached at the hip. But when life changes they soon find themselves enemies, fighting someone they never thought they would have to.

When weird things begin to happen in Hawkins Indiana the former friends now enemies find their way back to eachother, forced to rely on each other to survive."

My Main Masterlist

This series is on pause until I can get caught up, but when it returns on May 1st it will update twice every week. Stay tuned!

x Enjoy x

Cast List

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

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Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world.

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it?

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing.

Even ghosts had more than you at this point.

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.”

You say nothing.

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together.

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too.

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?”

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.”

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?”

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?”

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer.

“Nope.”

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.”

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point.

“Can you recall what he looked like?”

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?”

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge.

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to.

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine.

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared.

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits.

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.”

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission.

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you.

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point.

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors.

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges.

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go.

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there.

This mission is going to go well.

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.”

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite.

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?”

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo.

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?”

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.”

“Inside or outside?”

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet.

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier…..

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.”

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.”

“Someone from your time as the soldier?”

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up.

“For revenge?”

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits.

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?”

“She didn’t like that name.”

“How did she get it?”

“Me.”

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?”

“Flower.”

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be.

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus.

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger.

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place.

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof.

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you.

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look.

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them.

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.”

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform.

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof.

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain.

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up.

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?”

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other.

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it.

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view.

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs.

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back.

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof.

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you.

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?”

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things.

“LET GO!”

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.”

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that.

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“

“Let me go!”

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.”

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier.

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.”

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have?

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane.

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long.

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did.

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you.

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you.

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons.

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?”

“Soldat.”

“What’s your real name?”

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?”

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more.

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow.

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features.

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.”

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father.

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?”

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go.

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed.

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth.

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care.

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it.

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved.

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger…..

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself.

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.”

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.”

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.”

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?”

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.”

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found.

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.”

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught.

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck.

He was going to puke, how many kids had…..

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.”

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you.

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes.

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you.

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name.

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first.

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list.

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.”

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.”

“What’s yours?”

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you.

“You don’t seem to like it.”

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.”

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him.

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing.

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become.

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw.

“Always. You?”

“With you my little flower? Always.”

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace.

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other.

“Do we have-“

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.”

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?”

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.”

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives.

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours.

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs.

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up.

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it.

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other .

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet.

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.”

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly.

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter.

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.”

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions.

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice.

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him.

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog.

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing.

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them.

“It seems like it went wrong…”

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap.

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.”

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later.

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house.

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love.

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep.

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm.

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them.

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes.

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off.

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely.

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future.

And for once you felt like…. You were home.

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact.

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him.

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore.

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place.

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch.

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together.

“Yes. We can. Your list?”

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on.

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story.

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again.

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods.

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars.

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding.

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly.

“It’s empty though.”

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door.

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.”

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?”

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits.

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles.

“But I will. Let’s go.”

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life.

“That sounds… amazing, flower.”

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back.

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you.

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs.

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides. John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally.

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back.

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?)

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together.

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same.

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you.

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him.

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.”

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in.

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming.

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm.

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer.

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off.

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart.

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart.

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side.

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces.

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both.

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit.

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water.

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud.

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment.

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going.

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air.

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze.

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding.

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t.

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind.

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on.

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car.

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening.

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car.

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well.

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam.

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train.

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability.

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need.

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing.

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good.

“I mean…. After this mission.”

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel.

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.”

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven.

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop.

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles.

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental.

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year.

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly.

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons.

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw.

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away.

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room.

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky.

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

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