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queenshelby · 2 years

Text

THE CULT (PART ONE)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Words: 3,165

Warning: Smut

Notes: This has been in my drafts for a while and I am still not happy with it. But I posted it anyway. Let me know what you think.

Being out on your own in Liverpool after 8 o’clock wasn’t something you had planned for but, occasionally, you didn’t really have a choice.

You had to pick up a parcel that was important and deliver it to the man who your commune referred to as the one who had been chosen. Being the chosen one meant that he only trusted several people in his group and, fortunately, you were one of them.

Delivery of the parcel wasn’t a problem and you finished your mission by around 9 o’clock that night, following which you thought to take a short cut through an area called “Little China”.

You adored the food and tea in the area, but just as you went through one of the alleys to get a late-night snack on the other end of the suburb, you were attacked.

The sound of footsteps behind you and you felt a moment of absolute, saturated terror as a group of two men approached you from behind.

The men were already moving towards you when you turned around, blocking the path between you and the way back onto the main road.

“Don’t fucking come near me” you spat and, whilst you then tried to scream and call for help, one of the strangers muffled you with the palm of his hand while wrapping his arm around your body.

“Don’t worry Sweetheart. We aren’t animals, alright? We just need money and gold” the other man then said while you bit the flesh of his acquaintance’s fingers.

“Bitch” he yelled as you started began to kick him and lifted your arms to hit and claw and fight back.

The stranger immediately pulled his hand away for a brief moment and you struggled to get loose. There was no chance that you could out-muscle them both but you hoped to throw the attacker off balance at least so that you could pull out your gun.

After as little as a minute, you succeeded and the men became scared as soon as you pointed your gun at them both.

“We want no trouble Miss” one of them then said as he was backing off slowly.

“Oh, no? You should have thought about that when you attacked me” you spat in response before telling the men to leave before you would shoot them both.

With that, the men ran away and little did you know that the confrontation for them wasn’t over just yet.

Scared and relieved at the same time, you decided that it was time for a drink and instead of a late-night snack, you now wanted a glass of whiskey or two in order to calm your nerves after what had just happened to you.

Within less than a minute, you found a suitable pub and sat down at the bar and, when the owner of the pub realised which group you belonged to, he served you without hesitation.

You downed one whiskey and then asked for another which was also when you heard another man approach you from behind.

“You gave them quite a scare, eh?” the stranger said with a husky voice and, without even looking at him, you sighed.

“I am not interested in company right now, thank you” you told the man while starring at your whiskey glass and all you could hear in response was a quiet chuckle.

“Me hačarav tut” the man responded in Romani tongue before continuing on in English. “But then I figured that you had lost this and, perhaps, may need it again in the future” the man went on to say while holding up your necklace which displayed the Romani gypsy symbol of protection.

“You are gypsy?” you acknowledged with surprise after you quickly turned around and snatched the necklace from the stranger’s hand.

“I am” the man then confirmed before attempting to excuse himself. “I will leave now. But baxt tuke” he said, but you reached for his hand again.

“No, wait” you told him and he chuckled again.

“You said that you didn’t want company” the stranger then acknowledged and you bit your lip and smiled.

“Perhaps I changed my mind. Now sit!” you told him, which almost sounded like an order.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN. What’s yours?” you then asked before ordering another two whiskeys, one for him and one for yourself.

“Thomas” the man said before thanking you for the drink.

“Just Thomas?” you asked intrigued.

“Just Thomas” the man confirmed and you offered him another smile. He was older than you, but handsome nonetheless.

“Well Thomas, thank you for returning this to me. It was my mother’s necklace” you told him but, instead of looking you into your eyes, Thomas’s eyes were stuck on the scars you displayed across your arms.

“You are welcome, Love” he said before swallowing harshly while desperately trying not to stare.

“My father did this to me” you eventually told him as you began to notice his looks and Thomas was quick to apologise.

“I didn’t mean to…” he began to say but you quickly interrupted him.

“Don’t apologise. Have another drink with me and tell me what you are doing here in Liverpool. You dress well which means that you aren’t a traveller nor do you work in the factories downtown, which is pretty much where all of the other non-travelling gypsies work” you observed.

“I am here for business. What about you?” Tommy asked while lightening himself a cigarette.

“Same” you told him before snatching the cigarette from him and taking a puff.

“Are you married?” you then asked after inhaling the smoke and the handsome blue eyed stranger shook his head.

“No” he confirmed.

“Are you with a woman?” you then wondered before returning his cigarette to him.

“No, I am single” Tommy confirmed, causing you to smile.

“Do you want to fuck?” you then asked bluntly and his chin dropped

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked after almost choking on his whiskey. He certainly didn’t expect this kind of question from you after you had only just met him.

“You’ve heard me, Thomas. Do you want to sleep with me?” you asked again before making an observation. “I never met a man who didn’t want to sleep with me actually” you teased and Tommy’s eyes certainly widened.

“Yes, I want to sleep with you Love. I’ve got a hotel suite two minutes from here. Do you want to go there or do you prefer the alley?” he chuckled in response before getting up from his seat and offering you his hand.

“Please Thomas, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I prefer the suite” you laughed and, with that, you followed him until you reached the third floor of the Mason Hotel.

Twenty later in Tommy’s suite…

“What are you waiting for Thomas?” you asked bluntly as you stood stalk still and looked him right in the face.

You were completely naked within mere seconds and he was still fully clothed, in his shirt, pants and vest.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you gave him no chance. You walked forward aggressively and immediately reached for one of Tommy’s wrists and pulled it behind his back as you pressed your body into his.

“Eager, are we Love?” he barely managed to say as you stood up on your tip-toes to kiss him.

“I don’t have all night” you said before you grabbed onto the hair on the back of his head with your free hand to force his lips to yours.

Tommy’s response was halting, but yielded slowly. You kissed him passionately and pushed one of your legs between his two, wanting to press yourself into every part of him. As you raised your leg into his groin, you felt it begin to stiffen against your thigh and were pleased.

“There is it is” you teased, whispering into the stranger’s mouth and it was almost like he was under your spell.

You were filled with the sense of your own power and lust, and pushed forward roughly, mercilessly running a hand over his concealed but hard cock. Tommy gasped sharply and you could empathically feel his willpower falter as you stroked him up and down.

Capitalizing on his weakness, you grabbed one of his shoulders and he allowed you to push him to his knees.

You stared down into his face as he looked up at you with his deep blue eyes just before you took two fingers and slid them against his lips softly.

“I wonder how those lips will pleasure my body” you teased while circling his mouth a few times, taking delight in his obvious turmoil. Clearly, he wasn’t used to be dominated like this but he sure liked every bit of it.

Then, with depraved satisfaction, you pressed your two fingers into his mouth and Tommy allowed you to do this. Turned on by this, you began to push your fingers in and out of his mouth, simulating phallacio. His mouth was warm and soft and wet, and you took delight in the scrap of his teeth against your fingers.

Eventually, Tommy began to reciprocate, sucking on your fingers without looking away and the fact that he continued to look you in the eyes said to you that he was a real man. A man with a lack of fear. A man you may not be able to bend to your will.

“That’s enough” you soon said as you pushed your foot between his bent legs and felt that he was still rock hard.

“As you wish” Tommy smirked and, being unable to help himself anymore, he reached up to you and his fingers brushed your stomach.

You leaned in closer so he could touch your more easily and, after a little teasing on his behalf, you grabbed his hand and forced it between your legs.

“What are you waiting for Tommy?" you eventually asked as you threw your head back in delight. “Taste me” you ordered as you placed your hands onto his, forcing him to pull your labia open to reveal the pinkness inside, barely an inch away from him.

With that, Tommy couldn’t hold back any longer and clamped his lips around your pussy, and felt your sweet taste fill his mouth.

“That’s it” you moaned as Tommy flicked his tongue across your numb and you were more than happy to play along, pulling his head against you to feel more of what his lips had to offer.

Feeling bolder, Tommy eventually pulled up one of your legs with his free hand, and gripped your buttock as you wrapped the leg around him.

He held you tight and kept on pleasuring you with his tongue, causing you to moan in delight until you pulled Tommy’s hand back, stood up, and reached for the zipper of his pants.

“Like I said, I don’t have all night and I need your cock inside me! Now!” you told him as you were aching for him to plunge into you.

“I’ll be at your service Love” Tommy smirked before taking off his shirt while you were undoing belt buckle and moved down the zipper of his pants.

Without having lost any time, you released his cock from its confides and, with one hand, stroked its whole length.

“I know you will be Thomas. Although I think that, before you fuck my brains out, I should get a little more acquainted with this beautiful cock of yours” you then said before sinking slowly to your knees.

Keeping eye contact the whole time, you opened your mouth and enveloped the head of Tommy’s cock. For a moment you were still, but then Tommy could feel your tongue starting to roll around him, flickering over his frenulum and gliding over his glans. Slowly, one of your hands began to pump along the shaft, rhythmically and in time to your tongue while your lips began to move forward and back along it, sliding firmly over his skin.

With your free hand, you eventually reached behind him, right in between the cheeks of his firm buttocks in order to penetrate him from behind. Despite Tommy’s relative silence, he tensed up in anticipation and you pressed one finger into his anus.

He made barely any noise and, with a wash of satisfaction, you began pushing in and out of him rhythmically.

Before long you were pushing into Tommy with considerable force and his breathing had picked up, in a good kind of way.

“Fuck” Tommy groaned louder and this groan soon turned into a suppressed cry, followed by an uncontrollable moan as you forced your finger into him as far as it would go without pause.

He began to gasp very hard and you knew that he was getting close and you felt a hot, wet pain between your legs at the sound of his pleasure and choked breaths.

"Cum for me, Thomas. Let me taste your pleasure" you said in a commanding whisper and, at your command, he did, indeed cum, unable to hold back any longer.

“Fuck Love…” he barely managed to say as only moments later he made a loud choked cry. His whole body quaked, and he seemed to go limp.

His cum quickly filled your mouth, thick and warm and you felt that hot pain between your legs shoot up into an awful, unbearable strain- only to almost instantly break into the indescribable pleasure of climax.

You swallowed up spurt after spurt and Tommy was now shaking violently and attempting to breathe in quick, short little gasps.

His orgasm was intense, more intense than anything else he had ever felt before. It was almost magical in a way.

***

After Tommy finally came down from his high, you were still full of wild desire for him, but considered it unlikely that he could go again. Most men couldn’t but, one way or the other, you didn't care.

You pulled him down on the floor, ignoring the fact that there was a perfectly comfortable bed just behind you.

“Make me cum Thomas” you demanded and he began to kiss you over every emerging piece of bare flesh.

“Don’t worry Love, I will. In fact, I will do anything you ask of me” he said and his teeth grazed you, and finally closed upon you all around. You made wild, babyish gasps and began gyrating against his crotch.

“I want you to make me scream, for everyone to hear” you moaned and, to your surprise, you were moving against a decided, tantalizing stiffness. You couldn't believe it! You once again felt that hot, wet pain between your legs that demanded penetration.

You spread your legs wide against him and Tommy knocked his body in between your bent legs and put his fingers on you, sliding them up and down your wet and aching softness.

“So wet” Tommy groaned in approval as you made a demanding noise, and he shoved his fingers into you, opening your up. His rock-hard erection quickly followed like the thrust of a sword.

“Oh god yes, that’s it” you made a girlish, squealing moan and he began thrusting in an out of you like a machine. He was spellbound, a man with a mission.

“Fuck me hard Thomas. Fuck me like I am nothing but a whore” you demanded as you threw your hands up onto his back and dug your nails into him, pulling him down upon you, relishing the relentless plunge into your body.

You continued to make wild, animalistic moans, and took pleasure in clawing him and pulling his hair. You were still in charge and all he did was follow your commands.

A mindless, euphoric depravity possessed you and you began to whisper to him, over and over “make me cum Thomas…take me…fuck me” in a child-like, gasping voice- taunting him like some demon.

You grabbed one of his large, hot hands and bit him cruelly but in a teasing kind of way and Tommy made an agonized cry and began shaking again in the same way as he had before, near climax.

Then, you suddenly grabbed him by the throat with both hands and squeezed so tightly that his vision clouded in an instant and his thrusting was peaking in a crazed violence.

Just as he pounded into you with all his might, you came so fast that you made a weird, strangled cry of your own. Shaking and shivering, enjoying your high, you spurred him on.

“Fill me with your cum Thomas. I want to feel it deep inside me” you told him and, with that he, too, let out a strange, tormented wail and stalled.

“Fuck, you feel so good” he barely managed to say as you released the grip on his throat and he came, hard and fast, filling you with his seed before he collapsed upon you.

You could feel the warmth of his release inside of you and it felt amazing.

You stared up at the off-white ceiling, sweaty and thoughtless. You felt the warmth of his gasping, heavy body pressed upon you and were flooded with pure satisfaction.

After some moments of lying there, you finally laughed merrily, and gently pushed him onto his back, so that he, too, could stare up at the ceiling.

You got up to get dressed and you could see his smile. It beamed like the sun while he watched you as you yanked on your underwear, then your skirt, and clumsily began to button up your blouse.

“Why don’t you stay the night Love?” Tommy asked as he reached for his cigarettes but you shook your head.

“I can’t. I have to get back” you said and Tommy could see that, unlike him, you were not beaming, nor were you smiling at all.

“Get back to where?” he asked as he saw that your expression had turned serious again. For some reason, you were clearly beginning to feel a heavy burden of guilt about what had just happened between you and he didn’t know why. After all, it was you who initiated this.

“Go back to my people Thomas. You wouldn’t understand” you said and, when he stood up and approached you, you looked him in the eyes and ran the fingers of your clean hand through his hair and over his cheeks.

“I enjoyed this Y/N” Tommy said before kissing you one final time. “Will I see you again?” he then asked but you shook your head.

“No. It’s not possible Thomas” you told him, clearly being upset by your words.

“Why?” he asked and you sighed deeply.

“Because I am cursed and it is safer for the both of us this way” you told him and, with these final words, you left.

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 1 year

Text

— frozen hearts: day two —

Warnings: strong language, fluff, angst, past abusive relationship, sexual themes, jealous!Bucky, implications to PTSD

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: So, here’s what happened: I save this as a draft thinking I scheduled it knowing that I might not have wifi for a few days at home and then realize I never posted it and now finally get a chance to post it because of some family situations. Anyway… Enjoy the fluff while it lasts! Hehehe

Series Masterlist

When you awoke, the sun was kissing the horizon and colouring your room in hues of yellow. You shivered when cold air hit your neck, snuggling into the warm blanket and humming in content. The arms around your waist tightened, making you look up in realisation. Bucky was fast asleep, a peaceful expression on his face that made him look young and innocent. You were about to push him away and then tease him for not being able to stay away, but the door whipping open made you freeze.

“Aunt Y/N!” Nate yelled, jumping onto your bed and waking Bucky up in the process. Bucky groaned and buried his face into the crook of your neck, his arms pulling you close. Nate laughed at Bucky’s antics, laying on Bucky, and said, “Daddy does that too!”

“But mommy pushes him away,” Dan added, clambering onto the bed slowly next to you. You made an attempt to push Bucky away, but he didn’t budge, arms holding you in place.

“‘M too strong, doll,” Bucky mumbled, his voice sending vibrations through your body. A warm feeling blossomed in your chest at his voice.

You faked an offended gasp at that, eyes finding Nate’s. Dan gently climbed over your legs and pointed to Bucky’s side, making a tickling motion with his fingers. You nodded with a grin, watching as the twins dug their fingers into Bucky’s side. Bucky jumped and let go of you, grabbing the twins easily and laying them between the two of you. He narrowed his eyes at the twins, watching them as they giggled and glanced at you.

“That was our secret guys,” Bucky said, feigning a pout.

“Aunt Y/N knew that you were ticklish,” Nate protested, looking at you for backup.

You giggled and threw an arm over Dan, nodding. “I knew,” you agreed. “Steve told me because James wouldn’t.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he sighed, “That punk.” He shook his head, a smile on his lips.

“Nate! Dan!” Tania called, causing the twins to shoot up and run out the door before you could blink.

“When did he tell you?” Bucky asked when you sat up in bed, rubbing away the sleep in your eyes.

“Remember that party Tony threw?”

“You have to do better than that, doll.”

You rolled your eyes. “The party when he finally asked Pepper to marry him.”

“Yeah.” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “A little.”

“Sounds about right.” You got up and started to rummage through your suitcase for clothes. “You were completely wasted in three hours. I had to help you stand up right and Steve mentioned you were ticklish.” You picked out a pair of grey soft sweatpants and a black mock neck shirt.

“Why do you remember that?”

You glanced up at Bucky with a mischievous smile and replied, “Because it was hilarious to watch you fall off the seat with just a poke.”

“You! You’re the reason why I had a bruise on my ass!”

———

“How did mom trust you with the kitchen, Y/N?” Matthew sat down at the island, a teasing smirk set on his face.

Your lips turn into the same smirk. “You don’t get pancakes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, effectively getting immediate protests from him.

“Hey! Hey! That’s not fair! Mom!” The twins stifled their giggles at their father’s childish antics. Your mom only rolled her eyes, knowing that you wouldn’t actually leave Matthew starving, and continued feeding Ariel. You placed some pancakes onto a plate and put them in front of a now grinning Matthew. “Thanks dude.”

“No problemo.” You turned back to the stove flipping the pancake on the pan. A kiss was planted on your hair and a hand touched your waist lightly.

“I’m surprised you haven’t burnt the kitchen,” Bucky commented, eyeing the pancakes.

“What’s wrong with my cooking?” You defended, turning and crossing your arms over your torso. You narrowed your eyes on Matthew and Bucky. Matthew shrugged, saying something with his mouth. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“You burnt the mac’n’cheese last time,” Bucky replied, shrugging and placing a few pancakes on his plate as you both remembered the time Natasha left you in charge of the macaroni and you forgot about it, leaving it burnt. He gave you a boyish grin and took his plate to sit on the last spot at the island.

You shook your head and flipped a pancake onto the large pile. Once you flipped it onto the stack of pancakes, you poured the final bit of batter onto the pan. You moved to grab the batter-caked bowl and placed it in the sink. You moved to grab the other utensils and place them in the sink. You let the last pancake cook and flipped it onto the stack. You were about to start the water to wash the dishes when Bucky spoke up.

“Did you eat, doll?” You shook your head, tossing the spatula into the dish pile. His body heat invaded your back, hand coming around to place his plate in the sink and then grab your hand to drag you over to the stool he occupied moments ago. “Eat. We’ll do the dishes after.”

“I wish your dad would do that for me,” your mom quipped, eyeing your dad, making Bucky chuckle as he grabbed a plate and put pancakes on it. Your dad, who sat on the table, typing away on his laptop, groaned and threw his head back.

“Bucky, you young man, are putting my thirty-one-year marriage at risk,” he accused, looking at Bucky with a deadpan expression. Bucky only smiled and put the plate in front of you. Your dad looked at him with a proud smile, but Bucky failed to see it.

You dug in, occasionally giving your own comments in the constant chatters and small arguments. Ariel babbled on in her own language, exchanging a few words of heat with your mom when she tried to feed her mashed raspberries. You had to suppress your laughter at that. Bucky had fallen into a trap planted by your dad, having to sit with your dad and talk about business. Bucky kept glancing nervously at you while your dad told him about how he had opened his company and watched it grow. You only smirked at him to say you brought this on yourself. He rolled his eyes at that carefully so as to not let anyone else see.

Once you and the others finished eating, Matthew insisted that he would do the dishes when Tania started to gather the twins’ plates. Tania snickered when you muttered out a whipped and Matthew shot you and her a glare. The couple started to wash the dishes while your mom pushed the rest of you into the living room, using some extra force on your dad who insisted on doing his work on the dining table.

“Hi, baby,” you cooed, taking Ariel from your mom’s arms. She giggled and threw her head back laughing harder. You felt a chin rest on your shoulder as Ariel stared on with tears in her eyes from laughing so much. You looked at your side to see Bucky making faces at her. When Ariel pushed against your hand with her full body to fall back, Bucky swooped forward to kiss her forehead.

“Peek-a-boo,” he said, moving away and taking a seat next to Dan and Nate. They were holding up small figurines of superheroes and creating sound effects as they made the figurines fight. Ariel’s giggles died down and she started to watch Bucky attentively. You knew what was going to happen before it happened.

“Buhy!” She screeched, catching everyone’s attention. Bucky grinned at you smugly and stayed seated to make her screech more. “Buhy! Buhy!” She jumped in your arms, falling in the direction that she wanted you to go. You rolled your eyes and made your way to where Bucky sat, flopping down next to him with a huff. Ariel turned in your arms to face Bucky and pushed on his biceps with her hands to get attention.

“Yes, princess?” Bucky let Ariel take hold of his flesh hand—the one that he wasn’t wearing a glove on—and she inspected it as if it was a diamond. He held back his chuckle at the serious look on her face.

“Aw good,” she noted, placing a kiss onto it and setting it down. She made grabby hands at the other one, but you noticed Bucky’s immediate discomfort and distracted her with your bracelet, shaking it so that the light hit it and caught her eyes. “Pweety.”

Bucky relaxed back into the couch, Ariel’s attention being drifted away from his metal hand. He saw your concerned expression thrown at him, but he ignored the looks. He didn’t want you to see the pure adoration he held for you when you did something so simple. According to Steve, Bucky gave you ‘lovey-dovey’ looks when you weren’t looking. Steve was the only one who had noticed Bucky’s attraction to you. After a quick talk with him, Steve had promised to keep Bucky’s secret. At the moment, he realised that maybe this was Steve’s plan all along.

“Where did you two go for the first date again?” Your mom asked, looking between you and Bucky.

“Coney Island,” he answered for the two of you. Your mom hummed and nodded slowly.

“Why?”

“What’d you mean, Ma?” You bit the inside of your cheek and exchanged a glance with Bucky. Bucky blinked twice as your mom went to explain what she meant.

“I mean there’s probably a reason why you two chose Coney Island, right? Like your dad took me on a picnic because he knew I hated all the fancy-smancy food.” Your mom looked over at your dad and upon seeing his smug grin, shook her head comically.

“Not much of a reason,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I guess I really like her in that dress of hers, the white one with blue flowers.” Your eyes widened a fraction and you turned to look at him, searching for just a small hint of a lie. You knew which dress he was talking about. It had a sleeveless bodice with a bateau neckline. There were pierced embroidery trims around the arm openings and waist, giving glimpses of your skin underneath. The embroidery continued on the handkerchief hem of the midi skirt. You didn't know he remembered it.

“Oh! I love that one, too,” Tania said, walking to sit on one of the couches. You could see her mind turning gears when she opened her mouth again. “Why’d you wear that though? I mean, you guys did go on rides, no?”

“It was a hot day,” Bucky replied smoothly with a shrug. “Plus we didn’t plan on going on a lot.”

“What about the dizzy ones?” Matthew asked, taking up his chance to tease you.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Real mature.” You made a face at him, narrowing your eyes and sticking your tongue out for just a second.

“Boy, aren’t you so mature,” Matthew quipped, raising an eyebrow. You ignored him as Bucky chuckled.

“I tried my best,” Bucky sighed, turning his head to face you before tilting his head to a side, “but she’s not the one to budge.” You fake smiled at that, muttering under breath about how your brother had someone to make fun of you with now. You knew Bucky caught onto it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he grinned and gave you a look that made your chest spread with warmth. It was his gaze; it was full of the warmth that had never been aimed at you.

You turned away before you could feed yourself lies. “When does Ariel go to sleep?”

Tania shrugged and answered, “Depends on when she woke up. I think maybe around twelve-ish she’ll be fussy.” Tania raised an eyebrow as Ariel leaned her head against your shoulder, yawning in a very cute way that made you aw out loud. “Maybe right now? She’s quiet when she wakes up so we have no clue when she woke up.”

“Y/N was like that when she was Ariel’s age too,” your mom put in, gasping just a bit for dramatic effects when she turned to look at your dad. “Remember when we thought she wasn’t able to talk, D/N? We were scared that she was mute because of how late she started to speak.”

“Mom,” you deadpanned, not wanting to hear the story all over again. You knew you were a late speaker and had never seen the problem with it, but you weren’t going to allow Bucky to find another thing to tease you about.

“Oh, you know it’s not a bad thing. We were just worried and took her to the doctor,” your mom continued, not getting your subtle hint at ending the conversation. “The doctor told us that she should be able to talk and directed us to do some speaking exercises. It took a couple of months, but she started talking a few days before her second birthday.”

“This never gets old,” Matthew muttered, earning a glare from you as he shrugged. “Not my fault you’re late to everything.”

“Who was in diapers the longest, mom?” You asked, knowing the answer.

“Matthew was four,” your mom responded easily, glancing at Tania who started cracking up and Bucky who had placed a hand over his grin.

“Mom!” Matthew shouted and smacked his thigh.

“I’m not going to lie, Matty.” Your mom leaned back into the sofa, holding her ground as Matthew continued to fume. “You were starting kindergarten when you let it go.” Your dad threw his arm across the back of the sofa, massaging your mom’s shoulder. You smiled triumphantly and rubbed the back of Ariel’s back to soothe her to sleep.

“Kindergarten?” Tania went to confirm, getting a nod from each of your parents. “You told me it was pre-school.” She turned to Matthew who looked a bit guilty at the accusation.

“Does it matter? I’m not in diapers now.”

———

The rest of the day passed by with more bickering and some flirtatious remarks from Bucky in front of your family. Matthew had had to take Dan and Nate out to the lake when they found hockey sticks in the garage and begged for him to play. Bucky had joined them and left with a quick kiss to your cheek. Your parents had taken Ariel with them to the mall, leaving you and Tania to talk freely about the things you two couldn’t share with them around. By the time everyone was back, it was almost six in the evening and your mom was getting ready to make her special lasagna for dinner. Bucky and the other boys arrived a few minutes later when you were grabbing the three bags that had been left behind.

“Hey guys,” you said, smiling and accepting the tackle of hugs around your waist. You giggled and lifted the bags as the twins backed up, wondering why you hadn't hugged them back. “Sorry. My arms are full.”

“I can help with that, doll,” Bucky declared, taking the bags from you before you could protest. You wrinkled your nose at his chivalry, but let him carry them to the kitchen while the twins asked for hugs.

Once the twins were satisfied, you pulled away and said, “I think all of you need a shower.” The twins instantly groaned, but you started to push them gently towards the stairs where Matthew and Bucky stood, talking lightly as Bucky would talk with Steve or Sam. It was new for you to see him so carefree around people he had only known for a day. He tended to be closed off and curt with strangers—you knew that from experience. Seeing him like this was relieving, like an invisible weight was lifted from around him.

“I don’t wanna shower,” Nate groaned, headbutting Matthew’s leg. You stifled your laughter at his behaviour, reminding yourself that he was a child and could easily get offended. Bucky leaned over to ruffle his hair, chuckling lightly.

“Come on,” he started, grabbing Nate from around the waist and hoisting him up. “We stink, bud, and I’m sure your Aunt Y/N knows that too.”

“Don’t bring me into this, Barnes,” you warned and held onto Dan’s hand.

“Who’s Barnes?” Dan asked as you followed Matthew up the stairs, Bucky and Nate behind you two.

“It’s James’ last name, honey,” you replied, sparing a glance at him.

“Why did you call him that?”

“Uh—”

“She calls me Barnes when she’s trying to get me to listen. Also when she’s mad or annoyed, champ,” Bucky answered for you, getting a quiet oh from Dan. Matthew took the boys at the landing, carrying them when they started to protest. You and Bucky shared a laugh at that, staring at Matthew’s tried expression. Bucky then turned on his heels, grabbing you by your elbow to lead you to your room. When you turned around, stumbling a bit with how fast Bucky was walking, and opened your mouth.

“Why am I coming with you?” You asked when Bucky opened the door and dragged you along with him. He let go of you, kicking the door close and turning to face you with an expressionless face.

“I think we both talked to Matthew and Tania about our relationship,” he said simply, walking past you to get his clothes from his suitcase on the floor. You and him had both procrastinated on putting them into the closet to avoid wrinkles. “We need to match our stories up, doll, or they’re gonna figure out that we’re not dating for real.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t thought about that while you talked to Tania. In fact, she didn’t press any questions on you like those. She had only asked how your first date went and if you two had had sex yet—which you heated up at and stuttered out a no. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted him to know that or not.

“Look,” Bucky said, throwing his towel over his shoulder, “I know you and Tania definitely talked about us and I’m not gonna lie and say Matthew didn’t ask anything. So we’ll talk in five-ten minutes, until then just…” he ended up stopping there, not knowing what to tell you to do in the meantime.

“I’ll put away my clothes,” you offered, moving to your suitcase while he nodded and headed into the bathroom. You ended up straightening up at the sound of the door and looked at it. You stared at the door as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. You snapped out of your trance when the shower turned on and you shook your head clear of the thought of Bucky in the steamy shower.

You started pulling out your undergarments first, knowing you would die of embarrassment if Bucky walked out and caught sight of your laced bras and panties. Especially the lingerie you had thrown in prior to the fake dating plan. You stashed them into the closet drawers installed in the wall, hoping that you could tell Bucky where to put his stuff before he opened it. You then brought out the clothes that needed to be hung, like the jeans and dresses. After that, you were refolding all of your hoodies and sweatpants and putting them on the shelf of the closet. Bucky happened to walk out the bathroom at that moment, catching a glimpse of you heading into the closet.

“You done?” Bucky asked, walking into the closet as well. The closet was big, but not big enough for the two of you to stand with a good distance between you. You were a bit startled by his sudden appearance, one of your hoodies falling from your hands. Bucky caught it before it could fall to the floor. The hoodie had come undone of its folding, showing off the Trouble Man writing across it with smaller words spelling out Marvin Gaye. He recognized it to be Sam’s customised hoodie.

“Could you be any quieter?” You hissed, putting the rest of the hoodies away and turning to face him.

“Is this Sam’s?” Bucky asked, ignoring your remark. His question caught you a bit off-guard, but you responded with a yes while reaching out for the hoodie. “Why do you have it?” Everyone, including Bucky, knew that this hoodie was a special thing to Sam; he didn’t even let anyone touch it.

“He gave it to me,” you said curtly, cocking your head to the side. “What’s with all the questions, James?”

“‘S nothin’.” He handed the hoodie to you and backed out the closet, leaving you to your thoughts. You shook your head, already having more than enough things on your mind and put the hoodie with the rest. When you made your way into the room, the first thing that you noticed was his wet towel draped on the bed. Then it was the strong scent of his citrus soap. Your eyes immediately darted to Bucky who was sitting on the bed, pulling on a pair of socks. His hair was wet, dripping against his black henley he had chosen to wear. His buttons weren’t done and his dog tags were hanging out. It was quite the sight.

“Pick up your towel and hang it inside,” you said, forcing your head to remember what you were annoyed about and pointing to the bathroom—in your defence, it was hard to function around him. Bucky picked up his towel when he placed his foot down and rubbed his hair, effectively doing and not doing what you had wanted him to. Rolling your eyes, you placed the now empty suitcase on the ground, shoving it underneath your bed.

“Did you tell her anything?” Bucky asked, throwing the towel onto his suitcase—at least it wasn’t on the bed anymore. You sat down next to him, folding your legs and facing his side profile. His hair was longer than it had been two months ago, making the front strands graze over his ear. You had to admit he had a great jawline and face in general, but there was something about the way he clenched his jaw that made you feel warm.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, snapping back to the question he asked when he looked at you. His blue eyes became saturated with the light that emitted from the lamp next to you, making them seem a grey colour. “She asked about details of our first date so I told her the things we did when Nat and Steve dragged me, you, and Sam to Coney Island.”

Bucky hummed and asked, “Anything else?”

“She wanted to know if we’ve had sex yet.” Bucky looked away and visibly tensed at that and your stomach dropped. Of course he would think that having sex with you would be disgusting. With the fake relationship, you had almost started thinking of him as a friend. Why else would he help you? Now you were starting to close off again, not wanting him to see the slight tremble to your lip at his reaction.

“What’d you say?” Bucky asked, wringing his hands together and leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. He couldn’t look at you after that. It was hard as it was with your body pressed up against him last night. Even before that, the little blue dress you had worn to one of Tony’s party’s made his heart jump and forced him to control his breathing. Hell, at this moment, he was having a hard time not to notice your jeans snug against your legs and your tight shirt clinging to every curve and dip.

“No,” you whispered. He glanced up at you to see your guards up and nodded slowly.

“Anything—”

“No.” You shifted slightly, making Bucky want to move as well. He started to mimic your position, but left his right foot planted on the ground. “What about Matthew?”

“Asked about PDA. Why—why we don’t,” Bucky stuttered out, waving his hand around before you grabbed it and held it down so that he didn’t hit himself or you in the face. He licked his lips and added, “Said that you weren’t into it after Brock—” your hands fell loose around his and threatened to leave his so he held on, dropping his voice to a whisper— “and I knew wasn’t a complete lie.”

You inhaled sharply, hands jerking in his hold. “How—How did you—” know that, you wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“You flinched when we tried to touch you that day. You kept your distance from us before you started crumplin’,” he mumbled, the silent pact of never speaking about that day breaking in just a second. Your eyes glossed over, tears building up faster than he could have anticipated which tugged strings in his heart. He pulled your hands up and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “He was a real shithole, from Steve—ever the gentleman. A dickhead, from Sam. An asshole, from Natasha who literally went ahead and tried to punch the daylights outta him in front of the cops. A complete fuckwad that didn’t even deserve you, from your friends.”

You sniffled and chuckled at his statement, nodding twice. “I get it and, for your information, I remember you telling him that he was a dickbag, fucktard, asshat, douchebag, bonehead, itchy sweater, easy bake oven, and a wet sock. The last three were the best by the way.”

Bucky nodded, his hand itching to reach out and wipe the few tears that were staining your cheeks. You quickly relieved him of that desire and wiped your tears with the back of your hand that you had managed to release from his grasp. He let go of your other hand too, not wanting to overstep a boundary. He watched your hand come up and wipe the last of your tears, your scleras pink from the tears.

“He asked a few questions so I’ll just tell you the answers,” Bucky said, waiting for your nod. “We’ve cancelled fancy restaurant reservations and stayed home and watched a movie three times. You’ve chosen one of the Harry Potter movies two times because I lost at rock, paper, scissors and I chose one of the Lord of the Rings one for the one time I won. I asked you on a date when I was drunk so you didn’t trust me, but I ended up asking you the next day at a cafe we ran into each other at. And, uh, he asked about the arm.”

“Oh.” Your eyes naturally went to his left arm, trailing down to see the black vibranium with gold lining on his exposed hand. “What’d you answer?”

“I told him about the army, not too much. Couldn’t bring myself to talk ‘bout in front of the twins.” Bucky looked down, his ears bright red and a bright pink blush on his face. “He’s gonna ask again, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “but you don’t need to answer him if you don’t want to or can’t.” Your smile was warm and he felt the corners of his lips twitch.

“I won’t, but it was just the twins I didn’t want to traumatise.” He shrugged at your concerned look. “Matthew ain’t as bad as you.”

“Low fucking blow, Barnes,” you said curtly, raising an eyebrow. Bucky shrugged and got up with a smile on his face.

“We should go before they have other ideas.”

———

“Did you enjoy the lasagna, dear?” Your mom asked Bucky who grinned at her and put his dishes beside the sink.

“‘Course I did. The best I’ve ever had,” he answered truthfully. He felt his heart skip a beat when she cleaned her hands with a dish towel and put one on his left arm—he usually remembered to stand on a person’s left to avoid situations like this. But he found himself attentively listening to her speak instead of focusing on her hand on his arm.

“You make her really happy, Bucky. I’ve only seen her like that around her family and Natasha. Maybe Steve as well. I know she makes you happy too, but I think you know that already. I see the way you look at her; that’s exactly how D/N and I look at each other or Matthew and Tania.” Bucky resisted the urge to clench his jaw at your mom’s words. “I don’t think I need to say this, but I know D/N didn’t say it. Please don’t break her heart on purpose.”

Bucky nodded, his own heart breaking.

———

“What’re you doing?” Bucky had finished up in the bathroom and walked out to see you sitting criss-cross on the floor, facing the wall that held the TV. You looked at him over your shoulder, giving him a once over—his black shirt and grey sweatpants were hardly a sight in his own opinion—that was free of judgement.

“I found a nightlight in my closet,” you explained, turning to the side slightly without giving it much thought. You held up the star covered nightlight and waved around a little. “The lamp was bright and I couldn’t sleep quickly ‘cause of it. I had this when I was younger so it should be fine.”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at your confession, but it quickly dissipated when you plugged in the nightlight and it turned on. You grinned and got up, picking up the packet of bulbs and placing them on the table underneath the TV.

“Scared of the dark too?” Bucky went back to his teasing, seeing that you were getting too used to his soft side. The side that he wanted to show everyday, but shouldn’t.

“Being alone in the dark,” you whispered, so quietly that Bucky almost missed. “We should go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Bucky walked the distance to his side of the bed flopping down and laid down quickly.

“You have any plans to cuddle again, Barnes?” You joked as you sat down on the bed, taking off the fluffy socks you had put on and placing them a bit under the bed. You turned to look at him and shimmied down to lay facing him with a grin. He knew you were teasing him and not expecting an answer, but he couldn’t help but smile smugly. His heart was beating loudly in his chest because you hadn’t complained. Teased, sure, but you hadn’t complained even once.

“Don’t lie, doll. You loved it.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft smile playing on your lips. “In your dreams, Barney.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.” You blindly reached back and turned the knob to turn off your lamp. Bucky turned to turn it off, not having the action known by heart yet.

“Goodnight, Y/S.”

“Goodnight, Barney.”

Bucky sighed while you giggled. He realised, on the brink of sleep, that he still had eight more days left of this agonising torture of sleeping with you.

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morningstargirl666 · 2 years

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SNEAK PEAK

Sneak Peak for Chapter 16

Hi! I’m so sorry I’ve been gone so long, realised the other day I haven’t posted since APRIL and omg yeah I’m so sorry guys. I was writing for into eternity and au season, then I was sick, then I got an ear infection and then after that I got writers block and wasn’t quite sure what I writing for chapter 16 BUT IT’S OKAY I figured it out, got a skeleton draft done, and now 5k later thought I would share you a sneak peak. I will try to get an update out for next weekend but no promises. Since I’m at 5k it should be soon regardless.

For now, here’s a sneak peak of chapter 16, where a certain someone returns to Mystic Falls and a few misunderstandings take place...

Tyler leant against the wall, waiting, restless in the hallway as Caroline talked to her mum in the next room. He could hear their voices, but mostly tuned it out, instead focusing on a photo frame sat on the hall table by his side, picking it up and examining it, nothing else better to do. It was a picture of a much younger Caroline and her mother, toothy grin wide and bicycle helmet strapped on her head, a small vibrant pink bike with tassels on the handles in front of her. The day she learnt how to ride a bike, most likely.

Tyler smiled down at it fondly, before placing it back down next to the bowl where the Forbes dropped their keys, adjusting its position a little once he remembered Caroline would probably freak if it wasn’t left how he found it, the neat freak she was. He straightened up, pushing off from the wall and looking around, wandering around the length of the hallway while he waited. Maybe it was impatience, maybe it was nerves - Liz had always seemed to like him before but now… Her cold reception at the door earlier had reminded him why he had left. She hadn’t quite forgiven him for biting and nearly killing her daughter, and in all honesty, neither had he. He’d missed Caroline, he had, but after hearing about the sirelines and Damon’s plans, he wondered how long this feeling of contentment would last. It already felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

A second later, Caroline bounded into the hallway, and Tyler turned to face her, returning the blinding smile she sent him on instinct.

“We good?” He asked, slightly nervous, glancing behind her into the other room. Liz was out of sight, probably having retreated to the kitchen.

Caroline grabbed his hand and grinned wider, pulling him towards the stairs.

“My mom said you could stay as long as you want.” She said to him, clearly thrilled, taking the lead.

Tyler pulled a disbelieving face, following her up the stairs. “Did she say we could share the bed?”

“No…” She drew out, glancing behind her, looking down at him with a sheepish smile. “She said you could sleep on the couch?”

He hummed, lips thinning into a straight line, knowing that had been coming.

“At least until we figure out what Damon and Stefan find out about Klaus.” She continued, pleading with him.

They arrived at the top of the stairs, Caroline turning to face him on the landing. Tyler tried to keep the pessimism out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure if he managed it. “And if Klaus didn’t create their line? And they try to kill him?”

“Tyler,” She began, smiling fondly as she brought a hand to rest at the nape of his neck, “I just got you back.”

She pulled him in, and suddenly, she was kissing him. After a moment of surprise, Tyler returned the kiss, losing himself in the feel of her.

“I’m not losing you again.” Caroline declared once she pulled away, still smiling. Tyler couldn’t help but smile back. She took a step back, gesturing to the bathroom and possibly the store cupboard that resided inside. “I’m going to grab some blankets. You can take the extra pillows off my bed and take them downstairs if you want.”

“Okay.” He said softly, a little breathless.

Somehow, Caroline’s smile only got brighter.

“Okay.” She repeated back to him. Then she was spinning around, hair flying with her, striding away to get the blankets. Tyler couldn’t stop the grin that split his face, looking up at the ceiling as he spun around, weak in the knees for a second, still feeling the echo of that kiss.

There was a bounce to step as he walked towards Caroline’s room, and he pushed her door open with one hand once he reached it, immediately walking over to the bed and leaning over to grab the extra pillows sat atop the sheets. When he pulled them towards him, gathering them in his arms, only then did he finally freeze.

There’d been something off about the house the moment he’d walked through the front door, but he hadn’t been able to place it. Something different in the air that had made his nose twitch. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it, chalked it up to Caroline or Liz perhaps using a different perfume, or shampoo - perhaps a different laundry detergent. Hell, maybe even different air freshner, or something as simple as someone had been round to the house he didn’t recognise. He still wasn’t really used to being a werewolf, let alone a hybrid, so he didn’t understand what his nose was trying to tell him half the time.

But this? This was clear.

The scent in the air that had faded, barely detectable in the rest of the house, was stronger in Caroline’s room. It was coming from the bed mostly, all over her pillows, thick and heavy, though still a little faded, as if the fabric had been washed. Slowly, as if afraid of what he would find, Tyler brought the pillows closer to his face, burying his nose in the soft fabric and inhaling the scent, breathing in deeply.

Tangy iron, like blood, and also decay - a vampire. Yet it was intertwined with the musk of a wolf, the smell of wet fur. Then there was also paint, the smell of the proper stuff, acrylics, like it was drying, still wet. He could smell parchment, canvas and even earth, an echo of the woods and a deep age. The scent of something old, something dangerous, a scent that made the hairs on Tyler’s neck and arms break out into goosebumps. A scent he recognised.

Tyler recoiled from the pillows, staring down at them in horror, paralysed. Then he seemed to snap out of it, casting aside the pillows quickly only so he could claw at the sheets and duvet, pulling them towards him, frantic and wild. He shoved his nose into their fabric too, eyes widening upon finding the same scent, the same impossibility, because why, why was his scent here, and why was it all over her bed-

Tyler dropped the sheets like it had burned him, backing away, eyes wide in horror and dread. He backed into the bedside table by accident, almost jumping out of his skin when the lamp on it rattled, tipping over. He spun around, grabbing it before it could fall over the side. Heart racing, he righted the lamp, swallowing as he put it back in place.

And that was when he noticed the drawing.

It was sitting there, innocently, on top of a book Caroline must have been reading in bed. He almost hadn’t seen it, mind loud with panic as it was. But the sketched lines of Caroline’s face had caught his eye and suddenly he saw it, eyes fixing on it, unable to look away. Feeling numb, his hand reached for it, picking up the rough sketch paper so carefully anyone would believe he was handling a bomb, primed to explode. Perhaps it was. Caroline’s features had been drawn with such care, the lines of her face depicted with reverence and beauty. And then there was the horse, a horse Tyler had never even seen before - who in Mystic Falls still owned horses? - and below that was writing, a message written in blocky yet refined, pencil smudged letters.

Thank you for your honesty,

Klaus

Tyler stared. Stared until his eyes burned and he was forced to blink, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Eventually though, it got through. The sketch in his hands suddenly felt heavy, and the feeling building in his throat hurt, the warmth from earlier replaced by freezing cold. He looked over to the bed, where the rumpled sheets and discarded pillows lay, his sire’s scent still fresh in the air. The scent of a hybrid. The scent of Klaus.

Tyler swallowed, the horror and shock in his wide eyes dissipating, replaced by a different emotion altogether. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching so hard it hurt. His hands clenched into fists, the sketch paper crumpling and cracking in his grip, threatening to tear.

What the hell had happened while he was gone?

From the scent hanging in the room, he already knew the answer.

#klaroline #the big bad wolf #spoilers for TBBW #morningstar writes #fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #sneak peak #chapter 16 #I am posting this at 2am btw #tomorrow me will not be happy but current me is just happy I wrote around 1k

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paigelts05 · 2 years

Text

FNAF - I know you're in there!

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/FNAF-I-know-you-re-in-there-883911006

Published: Jun 27, 2021

Renegade File Server Location: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858029

This posting contains art, a story, and a micro rant about bugs in applications.

Warning: mentions blood, injuries, and use of thumbscrews.

I do not apologize for the rushed quality of the art.

I basically speedran this drawing as all of my drafts are stuck in the master app because for some reason, logging in with Google on the amino master app on an Android device isn't working as of 23/06/2021. In the meantime, I've been using the FNAF amino standalone, and both the FNAF amino and Arts and OCs amino on browser. I know the issue is with the master app or Google and not my account as I was able to log into amino on the Firefox browser.

With that our of the way, I would like to introduce this rushed bit of art.

I was browsing various collections on AO3 and found out about something known as 'bad luck bingo'. I don't have a Tumblr, but had a look at what it entailed and the prompt list.

Because I was not joining a challenge and doing this for fun, I made a small list of sad things and made a Vannis (Luis Cabrera X Vanessa | Vanny | Reluctant follower) fic about it.

I chose the following: can only move the eyes, mind control/ Ghostly possession, and at the end of story, it reveals thumb screws + scarpia ultimatum but instead of the usual, it's "let your body get used to murder people or I will use your body anyway to kill your boyfriend".

Fun stuff! So I wrote a short fic and didn't know what scene to draw.

But because I had to rush this out the gate it made choosing a lot easier.

=°•.🌹 Story 🌹.•°=

°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•🌹•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°

It was a normal day. Ness had been living with Luis for quite some time; in part so that she wouldn't suddenly vanish again, part because she didn't want to go back to her apartment, and part because she had wanted to move in with Luis for a while, and this situation was a perfect excuse.

They had decided to watch a movie together. A film from the 2010's that they hadn't watched in years but both found that they had watched as a child. About half way through, Ness asked Luis to pause the film for a second.

"I need to grab a drink. I'm thirsty. I also need to pee."

"Ok. Don't rush, but please don't take three hours. If you feel ill like last time, just say something. Even if you think it's normal." Luis replied.

"Will do!" Ness said as she left the room. Last time she felt ill, she wound up throwing up in the toilet. The time before that she'd rather not remember.

The movie was paused on a rather funny looking frame, catching the smear between key frames. It made Luis laugh a little, and he realised how tingly his legs were from being sat in an awkward position for so long, so he decided to stretch his legs by walking around the living room, revealing an awful cramp in his foot.

After who knows how long of walking in circles to try and get rid of the cramp, Luis heared Ness walk downstairs. Then he heard the back door creek open.

"Ness, did you just go outside?"

Luis had to ask. He was always worried when the door opened.

Ness didn't reply.

Luis had a bad feeling about this and bolted towards the back door, and seeing it left open, he bolted outside, not bothering to even put on shoes.

"Ness? Where are you?"

He shouted in a panic, wondering where she could have gone. He then heard footsteps and rushed towards them. A bad instinct, but Ness could be in danger.

His instincts were dead on.

A woman in a patchwork fursuit was standing in the street. Luis knew this was Ness.

He also knew that Ness wasn't in control in there anymore.

"Damnit," Luis cursed himself out, "of course this was going to happen. No way it was just going to be over like that."

The suited woman turned to look at Luis and and placed a finger to her lips before rushing at Luis with a kitchen knife.

Ness definitely had no say in this fight. It was him versus whoever was controling Ness. He knew who this controller was, but his mind blanked as adrenaline coursed through his body.

Luis dived to the side, the knife cutting his shoulder, but nothing more.

'A lucky break,' Luis thought. The cut stung and was fairly small, but he knew that this was just the first of what was to come.

Luis managed to steady himself, but Ness, no, Vanny struck again, bearly missing but managing to grab him and throw him to the ground. She laughed in a voice that didn't sound like her as she plunged the knife towards Luis.

The knife grazed against his back as he rolled out of the way. As Vanny was recovering, he managed to get back to his feet and decided it was his turn.

He threw himself at Vanny with a shoulder barge, aiming to knock her to the ground. Perhaps if he was able to get that cartoonish rabbit head off her head, she would return to normal.

The hit connected, but only sent her stumbling back a bit, but not before Luis heard some slight crying from within the suit, and she recovered from the blow quickly, slashing again. This time, the hit connected, creating a deep wound in Luis's arm - the same one as the slight nick from earlier.

He was bleeding, but that wouldn't stop him. He knew that Ness was in there and that she needed his help.

Luis dashed again, seeing if an elbow to the gut would topple Vanny, but it didn't work. Whilst she may have stumbled back for a second, she recovered inhumanly quickly and grabbed Luis by the throat.

"What do you even want with her" Luis was able to eek the words out before the cloth paw tightened around his neck.

Vanny didn't answer. She just laughed, but behind the laugh, sobs could be heard, as if two separate entities were inside the suit, and tossed Luis to the ground and trapped him underneath her, a leg either side of his torso, but most of her body weight being used to keep him on the ground and from rolling away again.

Vanny laughed as she held a knife above Luis's throat, but no amount of laughter could mask the cries coming from under the rabbit hood.

In one last ditch attempt to save both Ness and himself, he reached up, grabbed the rabbit head by the ears, and tugged as hard as he could.

There was a gasp of air and metal collided with tarmac.

"LuisI'msosorryItriedtostophimbut-"

"Shhh, you're talking a million miles an hour, but it's ok. Let's go back inside."

Ness was shocked as to how calm Luis was. She had just tried to kill him - I mean, it wasn't exactly her, but William using her body - but he was so calm. Even though both thier hearts were beating at a million miles an hour, he seemed so calm whilst she was so shocked and scared.

Ness nodded and managed to stumble to her feet. Luis - somehow in a better condition than her - picked up the rabbit hood and knife after clambering to his feet. The two then made thier way back inside.

After locking the suit in a box - as destroying it may insentivise making one again or worse, Vanny running around with no visible tells of it being Vanny - and Luis washing the knife - he was the only one cut by it anyway - it was time to tend to the wounds.

Luis - despite bleeding out of his arm - grabbed the bandages out of the cupboard and begun to clean and bandage his cuts.

He winced as the antiseptic burned the area around the wound, but he knew he had to clean it out, lest it get infected. After the wound was cleaned, it stopped bleeding and looked nowhere near as bad.

"Guess it was just a minor flesh wound," he said as he then begun to bandage the wound.

"Do you want me to help?" Ness meekly asked, having changed into pajamas and a mismatched pair of winter gloves.

"Du yuh hink yuh can ush a hafety hin whith your hands in those ghluves?" Luis's words were mostly muffled by the fact he had a bandage in his mouth, but Ness knew what he said.

"Umm," Ness wasn't sure, "I'll try."

Ness took the safety pin from Luis and pinned the bandage in place. Luis was then able to take the bandage from out of his mouth and finish wrapping up the wound.

Luis then moved on to the the various grazes on his head and back, cleaning the grit out.

"Ness? Why are you wearing gloves? Are you cold?" Luis asked as he winced as he picked another bit of the pathetic excuse of a road surface out of his neck. "You were wearing some when we were watching the movie too. Is it really that cold in here?"

Ness stayed quiet, but sighed, knowing she couldn't keep it a secret forever. "No. The temperature is fine. It's just... Take a look for yourself..."

Ness removed the gloves and showed Luis her hands.

The tips of her fingers were bloodied and bruised and the nails were snapped down the middle. After the order of thumb screws came through to the office, Luis had done a bit of research into the medieval torture device, just in case, and recognised the damage.

"Thumbscrews?" Luis asked, already knowing the answer.

Ness nodded.

"I guess we didn't hide them well enough." Luis replied.

"He made me use them." Tears welled up in Ness's eyes as she spoke, "He has more control than I thought he did. He also told me that if I didn't let him use my body as a means to kill things, he'd make me kill you..."

Luis was shocked, but not entirely suprised. He should have expected something like this from someone like William. Cassey had told them the identity of Glitchtrap many times, but sometimes when things got stressful, it was easy to forget such an average name.

"It's ok," Luis said, "I'm just going to look up how to help ease the pain of those wounds. And no more gloves. That'll just agitate it."

Ness nodded and smiled.

A few minutes later, they were back on the sofa with the movie resumed. The only difference from before the film was paused being that Ness now had an ice pack for her broken nails, Luis had a roll of bandages wrapped around his arm, and Ness had her glass of water.

°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•🌹•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°

Ship names for the web crawlers to find:

Luis Cabrera X Vanessa Luis X Vanessa

Luis Cabrera X Vanny Luis X Vanny

Luis Cabrera X Ness. Luis X Ness

Vannis

#2021 #fnaf #fnaf au #FNAF Renegade AU #Renegade AU #art #artwork #luis cabrera #fnaf luis cabrera #fnaf luis #vanny x luis #luis x vanny #vannis #vanny #fnaf vanny #reluctant follower #fnaf ness #fnaf fanart #fnaf ar emails

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nanowired-lover · 2 years

Text

"I love you like that weird uncle that brings vodka to the baby shower"

Hey I figured how to post texts easily from my computer, so I'm... just gonna throw my Beetlejuice!Musical scenarios out there because why not.

It's just quick ideas and probably already done in the fandom (i'm... so late. Why did I start only now) but my friends really liked them so I'm feeling confident.

QUICK WARNING : Maybe some spelling / grammar errors (my ADHD + french ass is trying its best) / the “i love you”s are purely platonic / suicide mention (Lyds talks briefly about when she and BJ met)

Summary : Lyds and BJ are having a great time until they don't, and after some fights, feels are talked about

Just a reminder, it's not a full fanfic, but a big draft

...here goes nothing

So we're going for the basic scenario where BJ came back into the house, maybe some years after the events ; supposedly just to say “hi” and try to squat a bit while trying not to mess TOO MUCH with them because they kinda won his respect (and because he cares a lot for Lydia. She’s a good kid and a good bestie.) yada yada..

Some scenes pass, where Lydia is trying to find him and talks about it to the Maitlands who are equally confused.

One time when he was hanging out with Lydia, being lil pests and joking around, Lyds went “you’re the worst” while laughing… and Beej, instead of reacting like “yeah kid, i’m a literal demon >:)” just… laughed a bit weakly and answered with “you’re right kid”.

Lydia, confused as hell by this sad sounding reaction, just looks at him as if saying “what was that ??” but the demon already caught himself and went back to his chaotic self in no time. But the girl kept pushing ! What was that ! To the point where BJ is just getting annoyed and goes away to “sulk” because “why are we not playing anymooooore”

After a while, she realised that the demon IS avoiding her and… it’s upsetting her. So she starts summoning him.

“Beetlejuice ? Beeeetlejuice ? Beeee-”

“Okay okay alright I’m there, no need to fucking summon me. It’s gonna make a mess and I’m tired of hearing your dad complaining all the goddamn time.”

So they start talking, and even starting a bit of a fight, as Beetlejuice doesn't like to be vulnerable and Lydia is just angry and worried. To the point where she sat down, tired, while telling him “I love you man, that’s why I’m worried and keep annoying you, you didn’t talk to me for the whole day !”

BJ just… freezes, and looks back at her, looking angry and shocked at the same time, and asks her to repeat what she just said, he may not have heard that right.

“..you didn’t talk to me for the whole day ?”

“No, before.”

“I keep annoying you ?”

“True, but no, before.”

“I’m worried ?? What the hell do you want from me- oh I get it.”

“..you get what”

“... that’s “I love you man” that you wanted to hear ?”

“No you fucking don’t.”

And the fight comes back, stronger than before as it opened the dam. BJ keeps making a list of all the reasons why he’s unlovable and he knows it, and he doesn’t care about it, but he thought that Lydia was smarter than that.

And Lyds is mad too and goes on a whole tirade :

“You saved me from killing myself !”

“It was to manipulate you, you were my only chance to get out of this shit !”

“But you made me feel alive again by distracting me, by giving me a best friend ! You made me laugh for real and have fun for the first time after my mother’s death. You protect me YOURSELF from Juno. You respected me and my family by going away after all that crap while you could have left and never let us heal.”

“I love you like that weird uncle that brings vodka to the baby shower or the gender reveal party, I love you like that big brother that keeps cheating at game boards but then teaches me how to do it, I love you like that family member that you don’t remember how is he even blood related ; but when you see him pulling at the family function, you know you’re gonna have a great laugh, I love you like that big wild cousin that brings the grossest, punkest, weirdest but coolest gifts while everyone was gifting me pink sparkly shits. I love you like that cool uncle, my best friend, my partner in crime, my family.”

“And I’m sorry that your mother never told you this, that NOBODY ever told you this because you acted like a manipulative murderous bitch the whole time, but you are honestly and weirdly fun, and friendly, and somehow even more present that my father, so yeah. I love you asshole.”

And Beetlejuice… can’t say anything. His hair goes full purple and he starts sobbing right away. Lydia catches him in her arms and sinks slowly to the floor with him, while hugging him.. They stay like this for a while, BJ still crying his heart out while clutching to her, Lydia a bit teary and there for him.. and once he calms down he just mumbles “... lil bastard, you got me feeling as much as the short time that I was alive” which makes her laugh a bit.

I don’t really know how to really finish that, but they spend a little while talking and Lydia realises.. how tired he actually is. Things had happened while he was out there and he came back here because… this is the safest place he remembers.

Thanks for reading my thoughts :’D I’ll maybe write the full thing if the hyperfixation is strong enough !

#beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice #bjtm #nano.doc #(yay new tag)#lydia deetz #no beetleb@bes btw #or at least try to be discret #I'm uncomfy with that #and i tends to check the notes time to time

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peachoony · 3 years

Text

chasing love - one

Genre: mafia!au, smut, arranged marriage

Warnings: blood, kidnaping, basically violence, smut

Word count: 3.2k

Pairing: mafia leader!changkyun x fem!reader

A/N: yes another mafia lmaoo, but this will definitely have more parts. actually i had this au written for a very long time in my drafts so i thought i’d post it.

You greeted all the new guests with a smile while looking for your parents, who were talking to other guests. You walked to them, hoping you wouldn’t get interrupted by some auntie telling you how much you’ve grown up, since the last time she saw you. By the time you reached them they were already bowing goodbye to the guest.

“Dad the priest has arrived and Uncle Minho is asking for you.” You informed him and he nodded, leaving you alone with your mother.

Well actually not really mother. Your parents had passed away in a car accident, before you could even start collecting any memories with them and your biological father‘s brother – your now father – adopted you and now you called them mom and dad. They were just like your actual family.

„You look beautiful, y/n.“ Your mother smiled and you smiled back while looking down on you. You were wearing a baby pink silk dress with some accessories and your hair was lying with wavy curls.

„Thank you mom, but so do you. Still looking all young,” you said making her chuckle and playfully hit your arm.

“Stop it, will you?” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Can you go to up to Mirae and help her a bit with the preparations, I’ll come get you two when it’s time.” She continued and you nodded, mumbling a ‘sure’ before walking up the stairs to the bride’s room.

You knocked twice before walking in with a big smile, but you were rather greeted with an empty room.

“Mirae?” You said and silence answered you.

You opened the bathroom door but nothing. Where is she? You walked further into the big room and your face fell into a deep frown, when you saw Mirae’s wedding dress on the bed. You immediately walked to the bed and your eyes found a folded paper next to it.

No. No she can’t do that. Not today.

With shaking hands you picked it up slowly opening it, scared of confirming your biggest nightmare.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m sorry I haven’t told you this before and It’s probably too late to fix anything, but I can’t marry Changkyun. I tried to force myself but the feelings aren’t there anymore. I fell in love with someone else and, before I could’ve done something that could’ve hurt him more I decided to leave all this behind. Don’t try to find me, I’m happy.

~ Jeon Mirae

You stood there for a while, slowly letting your arms fall next to you, grasping the letter tightly. It took you a moment to realise what just happened, but when it did it came crashing down on you like a tsunami. You blinked a couple of times, still unsure what to do as anxiety started taking over you.

You opened the door, running through the hallways trying to find your parents as you placed a hand against your forehead, but before you reached the stairs you ran into a bigger figure making you stumble back. You looked up, your eyes meeting the ones, you wanted to see the least right now.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I didn’t see you.” He apologized, his icy expression not leaving his face, as always.

You looked at him with widened eyes, still grasping onto that piece of paper. His eyes scanned your face and he tilted his face.

“Why are you crying?” He suddenly asked, making you sniff. You were crying?

“I…” you started still at a loss of words. “Is everything okay?” He asked, now frowning.

“Mirae…” you said, getting his attention now. “What’s with Mirae? Is she okay?” He was clearly confused on what’s going on.

You nervously looked around, going through a panic attack.

You’ve been walking on heels for years now, but suddenly you couldn’t even stand on them. You needed to sit down with your wobbling leg. How will you tell him that?

“Y/n what happened to Mirae,” he said again louder, stepping closer and you gulped, suddenly scared of him.

“Mirae, she...is not in her r-room,” you choked out, hands shaking when you held up the letter. Changkyun looked at the letter then back to you before grabbing it as his eyes slid from left to right.

Slowly the letter slipped from his hands and landed on his neatly polished shoes. He stared into nothing, before coming back to his senses. You expected him to at least show some emotions, but he just stood there with a clenched jaw. His eyes met yours and you both looked at each other for a solid minute.

“She did what?” Your father yelled out standing up, making the chair fall to the ground.

“We can’t cancel the wedding,” Changkyun’s father said, shaking his head. “What will the people say? They will look down on us.” He added.

“I’m so sorry Minho, If I had known she would do that…” he trailed off and your mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

Changkyun didn’t say anything, while sitting on the couch. His cold eyes looked into nothing with his hand rubbing his jaw.

You sat on the bed still looking at her million dollar wedding dress. Their voices faded and your eyes went back to the letter and you sighed silently. When your name fell, you looked up confused on why you were relevant in this conversation.

“Right, why can’t y/n marry him?” Changkyun’s father said.

“What?” You blurred out, instantly covering your mouth with your hand. “I mean...How can I do this? This is not my place,” you explained and your mother walked to you.

“Y/n right now is not the time, please do us that one favor. Everyone is outside waiting.” Your mother spoke up and you looked over to Changkyun, but he didn’t seem to care what was happening, blinking a couple of times you looked down. “People will look down on us y/n. What image will we bring across? They will take us a joke,” she added and you frowned, deeply in your thoughts.

“Y/n, you won’t regret this decision, I promise you that,” Chanwoo, Changkyun’s brother said this time.

You looked up into the mirror and here you were in a wedding dress, that wasn’t even yours, just like the place as Im Changkyun’s wife. Your heart pounded against your chest as your father walked with you to the hall. You liked Changkyun, maybe more than you were allowed to. You didn’t know when those feelings took over your heart, since it was pretty obvious that your families would form an alliance of the clan’s, but the moment Changkyun’s family asked for Mirae’s hand in marriage, your heart broke into millions of pieces. You were honestly still hoping somewhere deep in your heart that it would’ve been you. That it would’ve been you he fell in love with, but who were you fooling? Mirae was always the prettier one out of you two, always the one everyone liked more. She had all the friends and the lovers. How could you even think you can compete against her? Of course he would choose her, of course he would choose a pretty, outgoing and loveable wife. All these years you pushed your feelings aside and now that you’ve finally mastered hiding those feelings, you’re becoming his wife. You wanted him to be yours secretly for so long, but not like this. Not as a replacement of his actual love. Not as his last option.

“I’m so sorry,” your father spoke up, making you look at him. “You don’t deserve this y/n. You’re not supposed to clean after your sister's mistake,” he continued clearly ashamed.

You stayed silent, not sure what exactly to say. “If you don’t want this, tell me now. I will manage something.” He seemed disappointed in himself.

You shook your head squeezing his arm. “Accepting someone else's daughter and actually treating her like your own kid is not easy. Despite Mirae being your real daughter you always treated us fairly, always making sure I have everything she had. I never felt like an orphan, thanks to you dad.” You smiled as he looked at you with teary eyes.

“You’ve never let me down, now it’s my turn.” You added and he pulled you into a hug.

“You’re not an orphan and neither are you someone else's daughter,” he said after placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my daughter. And after today my only daughter.”

You sighed giving your best holding your tears back so you wouldn't ruin the make up as a smile spread over your face.

“I’ll make sure he treats you right, y/n.” Your father said and you nodded. “I know you will.”

If it wouldn’t be for Changkyun holding your hand, they would be shaking like crazy and when he slid in the ring you almost scoffed. This wasn’t supposed to be the finger the ring should be on, this shouldn’t be the hand he should be holding, this shouldn’t be your dress and this shouldn’t be your husband, but now it was.

You looked around the big room. You were in here once, because of your sister Mirae, but now you’re here as Changkyun’s wife. A sigh left your lips and you leaned back against the headboard, closing your eyes.

So this is your life now?

It was still hard to believe but it was best for you to get used to this, since you would only hurt yourself. Your eyes shot open at the sound of the door opening and you instantly sat up at the sight of Changkyun walking in.

He walked to his dresser, taking off his watch and tie without looking back at you.

“Changkyun,” you started clearing your throat as you stood up from the bed.

“I’m sorry all this happened and I know that I wasn’t supposed to be here today. This is not my place but it happened and I promise to not bother you at all.”

He turned around blankly staring at you and you gulped, clearly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. You were about to speak up, but he suddenly walked into your direction making you stumble back, falling back on the bed.

“Is that all?” He asked and you shuddered at the harsch tone.

He grabbed your wrist, not as harsh as his tone, and pulled you with him to the door and the next thing you knew was him closing the door in front of your face. You stood there for a while, before you realized what just happened.

He threw out of his room.

You couldn’t believe you were standing in front of your husband's room, after he just kicked you out. Tears started gathering at the corner of your eyes and all you wanted to do was fall to your knees and cry. You knew that you wouldn’t get the love and affection from Changkyun as a husband, but if you knew that he would straight up throw you away like a piece of shit, you would’ve definitely reconsidered this marriage. You would’ve saved you from this hell. You couldn't spend the rest of your life like that, not with your own husband treating you like a complete stranger. The thought of living like that just brought more tears into your eyes. You wanted to go home, to your father. You wanted to go back to him. You don’t want this life.

“Y/n?” You suddenly heard someone call your name and you froze, scared to turn around and face whoever was standing there. You slowly turned around looking straight into Chanwoo's eyes.

“Do you need anything?” He asked confused as to why you were standing here in the hallway at almost midnight. You blinked a couple of times, panicking inside and thinking of a plausible answer.

“Uh no…thank you,” you stuttered. He nodded slowly looking to Changkyuns door then you. “Why are you not going in?” He asked with an raised eyebrow and you opened your mouth just to close it again, left with no answer.

“He kicked you out didn’t he?” He sighed and you looked away, clearly embarrassed at the fact that you got kicked out from your own husband.

“That jerk,” he mumbled and started taking steps towards the door, but you immediately grabbed his arm. “No please don’t say anything to him,” you said and he frowned.

“Y/n, he can’t do this. Let me talk some sense into him,” he said and you shook your head. “Chanwoo, please just...don’t.” Your begging made him sigh again and he took a step back.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked you after he walked you to the guest room.

You stayed silent not knowing the answer to his question either. Why were you doing this? Better said why was Changkyun doing this? Why does he hate you so much? Was it really your fault that your sister decided to run away? That you got talked into marrying him?

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you got into this situation.” His last words before he disappeared wishing you a good night.

You sat there for a while and before you knew the tears started running down your face.

You opened your eyes as you felt someone gently shake your shoulder. “Miss, good morning,” a woman smiled and you knew she was one of the workers here. You sat up and blinked the sleep away, before you realized you didn’t have the chance to change, still sitting here in your wedding dress.

“Breakfast is ready in 30 minutes. Please freshen up, I’ll bring you your clothes.” She informed you and you nodded still in the process of waking up.

When she left you sighed and fell back into the bed. You barely got any sleep, all you did was cry and miss your parents. What were they doing right now?

After recalling last night you stood up and walked to your, well Changkyun’s room and thank god he wasn’t there. You quickly got out of your dress straight to the shower and the moment the warm water hit your skin you closed your eyes. You felt your muscles relax, especially after yesterday where you slept in a dress in the most uncomfortable position. After a while you heard the door open and you remembered the worker telling you she will bring you your clothes.

“Place my clothes on the island next to the bathtub, please.” You said, but when you heard Changkyuns voice you almost jumped out of your own skin.

“I don’t have your clothes,” he said and you heard shuffling before he disappeared again and you thanked all the seven seas that your shower glass was dimmed due to the warm water. The moment the door closed you let out the breath you were holding in. Of course this would happen with your luck.

You slipped into your heels before walking down hesitantly, still ashamed of what happened back in the room. When you walked into the dining hall you saw an unfamiliar girl sitting next to Changkyun while pinching his cheeks.

“You’re so skinny gosh, what are you guys feeding my poor baby brother?” She said playfully and you remembered Mirae telling you he has a sister, but she lives in the states due to work which meant she was rarely even here. Her eyes landed on you and she smiled.

“Oh hey, aren’t you Mirae’s sister y/n?” She asked and you nodded slowly. “Uhm, yeah that’s me.” Why was she mentioning her name?

Her next words felt like a slap into your face. “Where is Mirae though?” She asked, still smiling and everyone fell silent. You didn’t dare to move looking away to Changkyun, but he clenched his jaw. Chanwoo slapped her arm and she frowned.

“I’m sorry y/n, she just arrived and we didn’t had the chance to tell her.” He explained and nodded to the seat next to Changkyun with a smile.

“Join us.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” She asked looking at her parents, but Chanwoo silently gave her a sign that he would explain everything once they were alone.

To say the least – the breakfast was awkward. Changkyun didn’t even finish his food before he excused himself for work and honestly you didn’t feel like eating at all, so you just had some fruit to not completely come off as rude.

The moment you walked upstairs you let out a sigh, happy that you had the most awkward moment behind you, but when you heard your name you looked up.

“I’m sorry for what I said in the dining hall. I didn’t know all of this happened, I was just assuming you were here to visit Mirae.” Kyuhyun's sister carefully took a step closer. “It was so insensitive of me to speak without thinking,” she scoffed and you shook your head.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. You didn’t know, since you just arrived today. It’s fine,” you smiled at her and she took a deep breath. “Okay good, I was so scared that you might be upset.” She laughed. “Oh and I’m Gyuri.”

How weird is it that you were just now finding out your husband's sister's name. Mirae never really spoke much about her or the family at all. She was mainly focused on Changkyun, but here and there said something about his family. You knew his family too, exchanging a couple of words on galas and events, but more than the basics you weren’t that informed about them. Especially Changkyun, he was always a mystery to you, with his secretive persona. You were always curious on how Changkyun was with Mirae, since he didn’t seem to be a romantic and affectionate person, but she didn’t really give you any details.

After Gyuri offered you to always talk to her when you needed something, you thanked her and headed back to your room. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, but before you had the chance to drown in your thoughts your phone on the dresser started ringing, showing up your fathers contact.

“Hey dad,” you said and for the first time after your wedding you smiled that genuine.

“Oh wow someone is extra happy,” he chuckled at the other side of the phone.

“I missed you dad.”

“I missed you too y/n,” he said and you could hear the car engine in the back.

“Are you going somewhere?” You asked leaned against the dresser. “Oh yeah I’m on the way to a meeting, so I thought I’ll just quickly have a talk with you.” He explained and you nodded. “I see, but don’t overwork,” you reminded him and he chuckled.

“Yeah yeah don’t worry. How is Changkyun?”

Your smile faded as you remembered everything that happened yesterday. “He is good,” you said, but he sighed. “That’s not what I mean, I’m going to see him in that meeting anyways. How is Changkyung treating you y/n?” He asked more specifically and you bit down on your lower lip. “Don’t worry dad he is good to me.”

Yeah you’re lying, but things will change and then it won’t be a lie...right?

> chasing love masterlist <

#monsta x #monsta x mafia #monsta x imagines #monsta x smut #monsta x x reader #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fluff #im changkyun #changkyun x reader #changkyun smut #changkyun imagines

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winterscurze · 2 years

Text

call me yours // hoseok

The soft summer rain left traces of clouds all over the sky. It was a bright, sunny, afternoon and you were waiting for Hoseok at the cafe you usually met. You take a brief glance at the cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the bouquet of flowers lining the windows, how it hasn't changed a bit since your first date even though you have changed a lot since then.

The cafe bell chimed when you saw a familiar face walk in towards you, smiling brightly, brighter than the sun I should say. The more you saw him, the more you felt your own smile grow, lips curving wide, cheeks pecked in scarlet, heartbeat slowly fluttering and rising at the sight of him.

He sat down across you, eyes wandering and searching, seeking for something. Oh! Realisation hit like a truck when you saw a nervous smile plastered across his face.

It's been less than a year since you started seeing eachother. But it always felt like a part of you had been waiting for him, waiting for this to happen. No matter the amount of distance, he'd always be the person you turn back to go home. Cause he felt like one. A person to finally be yourself to. But little did you expect from him to take you by surprise when he proposed to you last night while taking a stroll by the park near his apartment. It had felt so sudden, so surreal. Just the thought of him beside you in the uncertain mosaic of the future left you gasping for the right words, heartbeat rising in a loud certainty.

You were ready for this.

You give him a tight-lipped smile before your own nervousness took over, fingers fiddling on their own accord, a faint heat coating your cheeks. The waitress arrived with your coffees, the aroma so strong that it was an effort to not tip your head back in the scent of it.

Noticing your nervousness, Hoseok reached out to hold your hand across the table, the warmth of him finally calming your nerves down even when the warmth of the coffee couldn't. He looked down at your holding hands as he entwined his with yours, squeezing them before he spoke.

" Don't rush it. You know- take your time, I'm here. I know you've thought through this, and it's okay that you can't hide your nervousness", he spoke, eyes holding only the warmth of his love, while beaming at you gently like it's his love language to always assure you, and make sure that you're okay, giving you a warm, tender smile that could beat heavens, outrun gods.

Returning his genuine smile, you spoke, words gripping at your heart, " I think I'm ready for this".

" And what makes you think that?", he asked playfully, lifting an eyebrow at you, the warm smile never leaving his face.

" What better reason to convince me if not you", you answered, your cheeks already burning in red.

" So you think we should get married?", he asked, giggling at you softly.

" Hell, yes", you almost shrieked out in delight. You knew you had zero control over your body when at the peak of excitement, and right now it was hard to keep you chained to your chair when all you wanted to do was jump like an over-excited child.

"You mean like take our vows, exchange the rings, start a family?", he teased again, grinning like an idiot.

" That sums it up I guess", you chuckled , an undecipherable smile plaguing your lips. And he only smiled, like a fool in love, a hand cupping his cheeks, the afternoon sun illuminating his handsome features.

But not even the afternoon sun knew that he was the warmth you had craved all along.

A/N: this one was there on my drafts for months, and (thank god) I finally found the heart to post it.

#hoseok #bts fic #bts imagines #hoseok fluff #jhope #hoseok x reader #jhope fluff #jhope fic #jhope drabble #bts drabble #bts x reader #bts fluff #jung hoseok #hoseok x oc #bts stuff

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possible-yandere · 2 years

Text

~ roommate!Choso x drunkish !reader ~ f! Reader

Warnings? : smut basically, idk what kinks to put here 😅, drunk- ish ( probably not )reader and Choso, NSFW. Modern au

[Unfinished] I posted this cause it’s been in my drafts for too long 😒 might add more words to this idk

You watched Choso enter the room, he was carrying a plastic bag of beer. A little lightbulb appeared above your head, ‘I almost forgot we we’re supposed to have a drink today’ you thought. He headed to the kitchen to put the beers in the fridge. “So are we still going to have a drink together today?” His voice echoed throughout the room.

“Yes we are! I promised it, right?” You said in a cheery smile. ‘Hmm’ is all you heard from him then he went to his room. After you watched Choso vanish into the hallway, you just went back to whatever you were doing before. Choso closed his door, smirking to the thought of his plan of fucking you finally happening.

You still had stuff to do before your ‘drinking session’ with Choso and those events were: meeting with geto to talk about how he hates non-sorcerers so much that he calls them ‘monkeys’, going to Ma- he he -toe and bulling him >:)) and the last thing was to buy snacks to eat with Choso while drinking.

When you returned you realised that the whole place was cleaned, ‘did Choso do all of this?’ Everything was spotless, Choso did all this preparation just to fuck you, but ofc you didn’t know that. He came out of his room to greet you, and you showed him the bag of snacks you bought and put on top of the coffee table in front of the tv.

He went to the fridge and got the beers and sat down next to you. “let’s watch anime!” You said, Choso grunted in response. “Aot...maybe jojo’s? No wait jjk... yeah let’s watch jjk.” You pressed the remote control and it brought you to the first episode. Choso moved his hand to grab a pack of chips and eat it.

You watched him open the chips with his long, big, veiny hands. He took a chip and placed it in his mouth, biting it gently but with enough force to break the chip in half. You could have sworn that he smirked only for a second, but even though it didn’t last that long it still managed to put a light shade of pink on your cheeks.

You whisked your head back to the tv quickly forgetting what had happened. Choso finished the chips and got himself a beer. You followed his actions and started drinking. You didn’t notice how much beers he bought and the alcohol percentage on the beer bottles because you just thought it was, ‘just a normal drinking session’ .

You forgot even why you were having this ‘beer day’ with Choso. You ended up thinking about that for a whole 30 minutes, and Choso didn’t notice you at all. A sudden thought came to your mind, making you blush slightly. ‘I promised this beer day... just to confess my feelings to him!?’Putting your beer down, you looked at Choso.

Catching his attention he also whisked his head to you. “Choso, I uh have something to tell you...” his ears perked up. “What is it?” He replied. You sat there looking at his mesmerising, purple orbs. “I like you Choso,”He looked at you,“I like you too.” You stared at him then leaned forward, you kissed him. After that, you thought it was too soon so you said a quiet sorry, and tried turning your head back to the tv but Choso grabbed your chin and kissed you.

You fell deep in the kiss so quickly, letting this man devour your mouth entirely.Not a single spot was missed, from all the days he waited for this moment he couldn’t leave a single spot not touched by him. He parted from your lips for a moment, “let’s do the rest inside my room,” you nodded and let him pick you up cradling you in his arms, bringing you to his room.

He laid you on his soft bed and pulled you shirt above your breasts to reveal your stomach. He leaned close to your stomach, his lips inches from your belly. You could feel him breathing giving you weird pleasure as you felt it. He then started to give you small butterfly kisses which started from your bellybutton leading up to your breasts.

Gazing up at your soft buds, Choso sucked on one of them and played with the other. You squirmed under his pleasant touch as he kept on sucking and biting your buds gently. He used his free hand to find its way to your already throbbing pussy.

He touched your flesh through your thin layered pants (or shorts), then slid his long fingers under your underwear to feel your wet pussy. “Hmm...” was all he said before taking his warm tongue out of your mouth. Your mouth ached without his touch but he did that to give you something better.

He moved your pants (or shorts) down onto your knee to get a view of your wet panties. He then used his fingers to feel your throbbing, clothed flesh, making you whine just slightly. He pressed on it, adding force bit by bit, you grabbed the bed tighter and and tried pushing back your lewd moans but everything was overwhelming and you couldn’t help yourself.

He moved his head to your pussy and started to suck you slowly and gently. He took his time devouring you while you squirmed to the overwhelming pleasure. He then fastened the pace of his tongue and you rolled your eyes back. The pleasure was too much, he was too much.

#jjk x y/n #jjk choso #jjk smut #nswf post #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #anime #getostoes #smut 😍#smut

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

Text

Thick And Thin (one-shot)

Synopsis: He never thought his wife would ever even think about divorce. They had problems, which is why they were at marriage counselling. But he never knew her heart had broken a long time ago. And he’d been the one to break it before they even got together.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: aaaaaaannnnggggssssttt baby, just wanted to write something that’d rip your heart out :)

Warnings: swearing, pain, kinda depressive (??), can’t think of anything else really, but please let me know if there is, also not my best work lol :D

Word count: 7102 (let’s start off the New Year with loads of pain :) )

Italics are flashbacks

“I want a divorce.”

Never in Harry’s life did he think he’d have to hear those words. Not after everything they’d been through, not after all of the effort he’d been putting in to save their relationship.

Those words had not only stunned him but their marriage councillor, the woman’s mouth open mid-word, as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Harry was fairing even worse. It was like his brain was short-circuiting, synapses broken and no longer sending any signals.

“Mrs Styles, I know it’s difficult,” the therapist tried to diffuse the situation. “But the reason you’re here is to avoid this specifically.”

“I don’t remember how you smell anymore,” Y/N continued not listening to the woman, voice like a black void, but her Y/E/C eyes rimmed with tears. “Or taste. I don’t remember how it feels to have you pressed up against me or what it’s like to hear your voice. I… I don’t have anything to cling onto anymore.”

“It’s why we're here!” he cried through clenched teeth, slipping on his knees before her, hands grasping Y/N’s in a vice-like grip. “It’s why we’re trying.”

The laugh she let out was detached and without any love. “We tried it your way, Harry.” She’d never called him Harry before. It was always Lover. “And it’s not working for me. It hasn’t from the start. We’re… we’re so unhappy. And I don’t want that for you or for me. We deserve happiness. But I don’t think we can give that to one another anymore.” She took in a shaky breath, looking down at Harry’s hands in her lap. “When I thought of it, at first I felt horrible. I wanted to throw myself off somewhere, but the more I sat on that thought, the more relieved I felt.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t want to believe it. “Relieved?” The word felt like acid in his mouth.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Relieved. Because this choice won’t make us hurt one another anymore. This gives us a chance to have a fresh start.”

“I don’t want a fresh start! We said – we said through thick and thin.” He was grasping onto the last straw he could find. “This is the thin, but we’ll get through it.”

“Harry, I already broke through the thin. And now I’m drowning. And when the thick comes, I’ll either be frozen under it and watch you walk further, or I’ll surface somewhere, and I don’t know on which side of the shore I’m gonna be on and where you’ll be. And if you try to get me, you’ll start drowning too. I don’t want that.”

“But that’s what marriage is! Going through the tough shit together!”

“Harry… I already asked Lionel to draw up the papers. The first draft is done.”

His blood froze in his veins.

“When you said to sit down and write one thing that makes me happy about the relationship,” Y/N was looking at the therapist now, “about the person, I – I couldn’t. Because I kept thinking back to the start, to the beginning. That’s what made me happy. But now…” She glanced at Harry. “If there was one thing, I couldn’t do to you, not in a moment like this, is lie. I just… I don’t remember how to be happy with you.”

***

They’d started out as the cliché of best-friends-lose-contact-only-to-be-reunited-and-not-let-their-chance-pass-by-and-fall-in-love. She was ten when she’d moved in next door to him and he was twelve when he’d seen the three vans full up to the house, a little girl hopping out from one of them. Harry watched as she rushed up the doorstep and put in a key, unlocking it and a new chapter of her life with it. Little did he know she’d unlocked a new chapter of his life as well.

She was the new kid at school, and despite the fact that he was a year above, he sat down next to her at lunch.

“ ’M ‘arry,” he said through a mouthful of a sandwich. “Saw you move in yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

And that was the start of a blooming friendship.

On her eleventh birthday, he gave her a handmade bracelet. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, making Harry blush all shades of pink and red.

He was thirteen when he had his first real kiss on his birthday. Y/N had simply tried to peck him on the cheek, but he’d turned his head, and her mouth had ended up on his. She’d walked away with a shy smile and ears on fire.

She was thirteen when a boy first asked her out. Harry was the first person she told him about it. That was the first time his heart broke.

When he was fifteen, he got his first girlfriend. Y/N was fourteen when her heart broke for the first time.

And then he'd gone on X-factor and with that forgotten about her. She called him, texted him, messaged him on social media, but usually, she’d maybe get only one picture or a small ‘miss you too’ as a response. So, after a whole year apart, she gave up. What was the point of trying to save anything when he didn’t want to?

He moved on and became an international superstar. Y/N moved on and graduated top of her class, got into her first-choice university, and graduated with a first as well. He had some relationships here and there, while Y/N had had a steady relationship since the second year of uni, but when she decided to go to a different one for her masters they amicably broke up.

Eight years later she was sitting at a café in London, laughing with her ex-boyfriend and catching up, as he explained how what Criminal Minds showed wasn’t really what was taught in his criminology degree classes.

“I’m still saying I dated real-life Spencer Reid,” Y/N chuckled, sipping on her gingerbread latte. “Don’t give a shit, I need something to flex with.”

Harry had then walked inside the café, shaking off the snow from his boots when a familiar laugh he hadn’t heard in ages invaded his senses. It was almost like he’d stepped into a dream.

When his green eyes befell on the owner of the voice, he had to take a double-take. Somehow in his brain, he’d expected the fifteen-year-old teenager, a t-shirt of his face on her body, as she’d cheered him on when he’d gone onto his first concert as part of One Direction to be sitting in the chair, not the grown-up woman.

He’d still checked in with Y/N through what she posted on her social media, but as much as he’d promised not to have the celebrity life sweep him away, it had. Harry sometimes had two concerts a day, and he barely had a moment to take a bite of food. And he hated to admit it, but Y/N simply slipped from his life. And he didn’t bother to put in the effort to pull her back.

A huge wave of guilt and longing rushed through his body as he glanced at the woman, her face lit up by joy as she and the man before her continued on with their conversation.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, making him turn around and face another customer. “You gonna order anything?”

For a moment Harry stuttered. He could walk away without inserting himself back into Y/N’s life, but he didn’t want that. He’d missed her. Harry didn’t even realise how much he’d missed her.

“You go ahead.” He motioned with his hand. “I’m still thinking.”

Harry took in a deep breath and then walked towards where the pair was sitting.

The man’s eyes flitted up to see who was towering over Y/N, only for them to widen, and his mouth hang open.

A sense of pride filled Harry's chest at the reaction and maybe quenched a little bit of the jealousy invading his body. He used to be the one who made Y/N laugh until she had to tell him to stop or she’d pee herself. He was back to take up the role.

“You okay there, Dan?” she chuckled. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost behind my back. I told him not to walk out of the flat wit –“ Y/N had turned around and almost choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Harry! Oh – hi!” She jumped up hugging him, feeling how his body shook with laughter at her reaction, strong arms weaving around her middle. “Holy shit, it’s really you!”

“Yeah, ‘s me. Who else?”

“I didn’t know you were back in the UK.”

A warmth spread through his chest, as he reluctantly pulled away from the hug. “Been checking in on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back down, but pulling up a third chair for Harry to sit upon. “Dan’s a huge fan.” She motioned with her head to the man. “When we first started dating, I thought he was only doing it because we used to be friends, and he hoped I’d set you up or something.”

Harry masked the choke of envy by clearing his throat and letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hope I’m not interrupting a date or something.”

“A catch-up date, but not a date date.” Dan lifted his brows at Y/N, who gave him a ‘don’t start this’ look to which he threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You’re being annoying, that’s what you are.” Y/N flicked a crumb from the table towards him.

It was in that moment that it truly hit how much he’d missed, and it hit him hard he no longer knew the person who once was his best friend.

“You’re different,” Harry said, looking over at her trying to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice break.

Y/N shrugged, eyes twinkling. “I mean it has been almost a decade. I do hope I don’t look the same as I did then. Otherwise, the pain of braces was of no use.”

“No,” he chuckled shaking his head. “’S not that… It’s like you’re a different person.”

“I grew up,” she said, sipping on the last bits of her drink. “ ’M not the same fifteen-year-old you saw last.”

He nodded and bit his lip. But the thing was, Harry wasn’t the stupid sixteen-year-old that left the fifteen-year-old her either. This time, he wouldn’t let the chance at happiness pass him by when he could’ve had it all along.

***

He sat across from Y/N at the large marble table and watched, heart bleeding out in his chest as she put her signature on the papers, her attorney fishing out something from his briefcase and handing it to her under the table. He saw her shoulders shudder before she placed a maroon rectangle with a golden inscription on it in her own purse. Harry wanted to vomit. It was her new passport, where her surname no longer matched his, where he no longer existed, inscribed into the document as her spouse.

“Mr Styles?” Y/N’s lawyer pushed the papers his way, the pen laying atop them. “’S your turn.”

‘Your turn’, as if it was a game of spin the bottle or UNO.

“Don’t make me,” he choked out, pleading with Y/N one last time. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give up on us.”

Her words were worse than a knife to his soul. “You can’t give up on something that’s no longer there.”

When they’d been at the stage of negotiation, he’d kept pushing for giving her at least half of his income, to give her one of the houses they owned together, but she’d turned everything down.

“I didn’t marry you for your money, Harry.” He’d expected her voice to be full of venom, but it wasn’t. It was sad, resigned. “I don’t want what you’ve earned.”

“Let me give you at least something.”

“I don’t want anything from you. If it makes you feel any better, you can donate whatever amount you wanted to give me. I don’t care. All I want from this is for you to sign the papers.”

“And if I can’t?”

Y/N sighed, looking down at the table. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

That’s when her attorney had cleared his throat. “Mrs Sty – Y/L/N. Legally, according to the prenup, you are entitled to half of Mr Styles estate as well as twenty percent of all his earnings.”

But Y/N just shook her head. “I only signed those documents because that’s what he and his agent wanted. I never asked for it or anything or the sort. Donate it, for all I care. Buy a new house, Harry I literally don’t want to know what you do with your money.” Y/N took in a sharp breath and calmed herself down. It’d been the first time Harry had heard any sort of emotion from her since she'd spoken those horrible words. “I just want this over with.”

And now, he was at the moment of the end. He just never thought their story would end with broken hearts and ripped up futures.

His handwriting was barely legible at best of times, but right now it seemed as if a toddler had tried to forge it with how much his hand shook. When the pen dropped, so did his shoulders, and he saw Y/N’s drop as well.

Harry’s with weight from the love lost, Y/N’s with relief, for now their broken hearts wouldn’t hurt one another no longer.

His lawyer handed him over a new passport as well, where Y/N was no longer written as his spouse. The urge to rip it to shreds was almost uncontainable. He hated it more than the divorce papers.

***

They’d been dating for a little over two years when he decided to propose, only every plan he had was miserably ruined by some outside force.

The first time he’d decided he’d do it at a romantic dinner. Harry had found out Y/N wasn’t a fan of huge romantic gestures, so he wouldn’t get on one knee and draw everyone’s attention. He’d simply take her hand in his, kiss her fingers and ask.

But as they’d sat at the table enjoying their meal and talking, he noticed Y/N become quieter and quieter. A frown morphed on his face.

“You alright, Lovie?”

“Umm,” Y/N’s brow creased even more, and she dropped her fork. “I umm I don’t know. ‘M feeling kind of funky?”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – “ Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t manage to get anything else out as she jumped up and rushed towards the ladies room.

Harry quickly dropped his own utensils and rushed after her, not bothering with the yells of the woman who was looking at herself in the mirror, while his girlfriend threw up her guts inside one of the toilets.

A member of the staff had run to see what all the commotion was about, but when he saw Y/N half inside a stall, half outside, Harry’s hands keeping her hair away from her face, he went back out and immediately grabbed the first aid kit they had in the kitchen, handing it to Harry along with a cold wet towel.

Y/N shuddered, leaning against the stall wall sweat glistening on her face, as he pressed the damp cloth against her skin. She gave him half a smile. “Told you not to get the shrimp.”

“I’ll get the cab, Lovie.” He smoothed away the once meticulously styled hair, which was now stuck to her damp skin.

But she shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to puke again.”

In the end, she threw up two more times, her stomach really not agreeing with the entrée. The waiters kept apologising the whole time, and the chef had stopped cooking, the restaurant immediately taking action and refunding everyone who’d ordered anything with shrimps in them.

When they’d gotten back home, Y/N was so tired and felt so sick, Harry could only help her get out of the dress, clean her up with a warm towel and wrap her up in her favourite pyjamas before curling up together on his bed and falling asleep, making sure if there was a moment, she felt nauseous again, he was by her side. She needed his help more than he needed to propose.

***

He threw himself into his work like a madman. Day and night, he was either at a studio, on a filming lot, in between meetings or interviews. The media buzzed about how his marriage had fallen apart, even though Y/N hadn’t made a statement or spoken a word to anyone, and neither had Harry. But he guessed the emptiness of his ring finger gave everything away.

He refused, however, to speak on it. As painful as it was, he was still in love with Y/N. She hadn’t chosen to be in the spotlight, it was Harry’s world, not hers, so he respected her decision to be quiet and remained so himself, save for one single post his management had asked for him to put up. It'd also been the last time he'd spoken to her.

All he received was a simple text message 'do what you have to do'.

A couple of months down the line though, something came up, and Harry couldn’t keep his tongue behind his teeth.

It was an article in The Sun, a photograph of Y/N plastered all over the front page with the words ‘Gold-digger Y/L/N finally seen out after divorce with Harry Styles.” He’d snatched the paper right off the stand and flipped it open, frantic green eyes scanning the words.

‘Despite it only being two months since the two childhood ex-best friends broke up, Y/N Y/L/N was already seen in the company of a man, sharing a drink, and giving one another flirtatious smiles. An inside source tells us, how she hadn’t even been that upset about the divorce and has been going out and having fun with many male companions, one of them being her ex-boyfriend from university times.’

‘Harry Styles, known for his time in the pop boyband One Direction and for his solo endeavours in music as well as dabbling in acting, broke everyone’s belief in true love after being seen in public without a ring. This prompted an announcement that the four-year relationship and two-year marriage to who was once his best friend had ended and the two had decided to get a divorce. Although the post showed a picture of their silhouettes holding one another with their foreheads together, and his statement showed nothing but love and respect for his then-wife, sources say Y/N had been controlling and obsessive over her then-husband and hadn’t wanted him to leave to pursue his career, stifling his growth.’

He didn’t bother to read any further, as he pulled out his phone, calling Jeff immediately to figure out how to make all of it go away, how to do at least one thing right.

“They’re dragging her name through the mud!” he sneered, not even caring he was bumping shoulders with people, and if the paparazzi would dare spin a story of the state he was in at that moment, he’d sue each and every one of them personally. “I have to do something. Fuck, Jeff, I love her! I can’t let them paint her like this. Y/N – “ he choked back a lump. “She never asked for this. Didn’t ask for anything. And that man – that was Dan, okay. I know him. Yes, he’s her ex, but they don’t know anything!”

“Harry I’ve sent them cease-and-desist letters already.” Jeff tried to ease him. “But… she’s no longer your concern Har.”

The words hit him like a bullet and ripped a hole in his chest just like one of them would. “You might still love her,” Jeff’s voice was solemn. “But Y/N is no longer yours to protect.”

“I can’t just let them talk shit about her,” Harry whispered back.

His friend sighed on the other side of the line. “I know. Which is why we’ll deal with it. But you have to start letting her go.”

***

The second time Harry wanted to propose was about a month later, and Christmas was right around the corner. They’d decided that Christmas Eve would be spent with his sister, her boyfriend and Anne, while Christmas Day they’d go to Y/N’s side of the family.

Although they’d settled on one gift each, Harry had been carrying around that small box for what felt like an eternity. And it wouldn’t really be a gift, given how he’d wrap it and hang it in the tree.

“It’s an ornament,” he’d say to her, a smug smile on his lips, as Y/N would roll her eyes at him. “Just because it has your name on it, doesn’t mean it’s immediately a present.”

And then she’d open it, and would gasp, and Harry would slide down on his knee, press a kiss to her ring-free finger before asking that fateful question.

But just like before, his plan didn’t come to fruition.

He’d asked his mother to hang up the little box, so there was no chance of Y/N seeing it in his hands, but what he hadn’t thought of was Gemma’s boyfriend had decided on the exact same plan of action.

When Michal had dropped down on his knee, Harry’s sister’s trembling hand in his, he couldn’t do that to them. As much as he wanted to marry Y/N, he couldn’t take away Gemma’s moment. So while Y/N was preoccupied with looking at the gleaming diamond on Gemma’s finger, Harry plucked down the box from where it’d hung and placed it on the side no one could see, before he could put it in his bag.

“ ’M sorry, honey,” Anne had said to him over coffee the next morning. “I didn’t know Michal would do that.”

He’d just shaken his head, no hurt in his heart. “Great minds think alike. Our moment will come. ‘M happy for Gem. Besides, if he hadn’t done that anytime soon, I would’ve needed to have a stern talking.”

***

What his sister said to him made him think he had to be living in a simulation, because it couldn’t be true. Y/N couldn’t be getting married. Not this soon. Not ever. Not to someone who wasn’t him. It had been barely a year since he’d signed the death sentence to his own happiness.

Harry shook his head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying, Gem.”

“I’m not.” Her voice broke as she said it. “I saw her at a café. Saw the ring… the man who gave it to her. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

His mind reeled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Was that why she’d really divorced him? Had she been cheating on him and just needed an excuse out of their relationship to jump into the new one? He was away so much on their relationship, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone else had swooped in and tried to win her heart.

Harry’s mind was one of the greatest things he’d been blessed him, but also one of the worst curses bestowed upon him, as it weaved a story of Y/N and the man who’d now put a gleaming ring on her finger.

He was away, like always, doing something he could do another time. She was on her own, keeping their bed warm with just her body, fighting for their relationship on her own, while he made plans once more to go to a different part of the world and leave her behind again.

Y/N pulled herself out of the bed, sighing and rubbing her face. She opened their closet only to be greeted with Harry’s half empty. Maybe that was the moment she decided to find someone who’d fill it and wouldn’t leave it permanently empty, Harry conjured up.

She’d dress in a soft jumper and some jeans, a large cardigan hanging over her body and would go to a café for her morning drink. And that’s where she’d meet him. The stranger that would take her out of the lonely life she’d been living. The stranger that would make a smile bloom on her face and her heart stutter once more. The stranger who would show her the love Y/N deserved to have.

Harry had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts before they ventured into a worse territory.

No. Y/N wasn’t like that. No matter what, she would never cheat on him. She had enough dignity for herself and respect for him, even though in his own mind, Harry didn’t think he deserved it.

Although he didn’t have a right to, nor was it the sanest move (and if someone saw him doing it, there would probably be a slew of articles), Harry got into his car and drove to where Y/N’s apartment was, and when she opened the door after hearing seven loud knocks, he stepped inside without even waiting for her to invite him.

“You’re getting married?”

She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s been barely a year! I refuse to believe you’ve moved on so fast.”

Maybe he was kidding himself, and Y/N truly had, but as much as their marriage had fallen apart, he did have the honour of having known her and having figured some things out deeper than others would.

Y//N scoffed. “I was proposed to. And I said yes.” The words were like venom entering his veins. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have agreed to it. And as I already said – it is none of your concern.”

Harry stood there, watching as she dragged a hand down her face, eyes flitting everywhere he wasn’t. It told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re not happy,” he whispered stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I know how you shine when you’re truly happy. This isn’t it. Why are you doing this?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Harry was so confused, at a complete loss at what Y/N was saying. “So, you’ll what? Get married to him and be miserable? Why the hell did you divorce me then?”

Y/N sighed. “Being unhappy with him isn’t as unbearable as being unhappy with you. Because with you, I know what it feels like to truly fully loved. Which is why it broke me when you stopped.”

“I never stopped!” Harry whisper yelled, anger coursing through his veins at her words, because they were lies. “Why do you think I dragged us to marriage counselling? Why do you think I kept fighting for us? For you?! You were the one that gave up!”

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

Harry blinked rapidly, not understanding what she meant.

“You left me for ten years. You forgot all about me until that day at the café. Not once did you message me or call me or even send fucking snail mail. I was the one putting in all the effort, I was the one who was trying to keep you in my life, but you didn’t want it. Just like it was when we were married.”

Rage bubbled under the surface, but he kept it at bay. That was not how he’d get Y/N back. “How?” he asked calmly. “How did I not want it?”

She scoffed shaking her head. “It was the same as it was ten years ago. With the movie, the new album... You were always at the studio or hanging out with your castmates. When I asked for you to free up one night, one single night, you didn’t come back until three AM, drunk off your ass, and I had to take care of you. I asked for one night. And you didn’t even give me that. So forgive me for not feeling like you still loved me.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?!”

“I did!” This was the first time he’d ever heard Y/N yell, before kneading her lips tightly together and then continuing more quietly. “But you never heard me. Not really. You heard what I asked, and promised to be there, but when the time came… something more important always came up. Something that always deserved to have the promise you gave me to be broken.” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “Do you remember when you first asked me out? And I said no?”

Harry nodded. “You said that we just got one another back and didn’t want to have anything rip us apart again. Didn’t even want to chance it.”

“And you said it was exactly why I should give us a chance. That we’d finally found one another again and shouldn’t let the opportunity go…” She tilted her head. “Guess we should’ve listened to me. I included.”

He couldn’t believe her. “Is that really your takeaway here? You were right?”

“But I was.” Y/N shrugged. “Look at where we are now. You forgot me for basically ten years.” She shrugged, stepping away. “Give it some time, and you’ll forget me for the rest of your life. Besides, we’ve not known one another longer than we have. So, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Why did you then? Go out with me?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Get married to me?”

For a moment Y/N just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes boring into his green ones. “Because I’d once again convinced myself I was important to you, just like I did when we were teens. And in my head, I had dreamt up that maybe I’d be important enough for you not to forget me.”

***

The third time did the charm though.

They were both sleepy, under the covers of Harry’s bed, eyes barely keeping open as they were determined to finish Elf.

Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest, bare body next to his naked one. She hated sleeping in pyjamas (unless they were staying over at one of their parent’s places,) because she said it made her feel like the clothes were suffocating her. Harry didn’t like sleeping with pyjamas because all he wanted was to fully feel the skin of his lover next to his.

Snow fell behind the large windows of his London penthouse apartment, covering the city in a white blanket. It rarely snowed there, so he watched with warmth in his heart as the flakes fluttered to the ground.

It was all so calm, so serene, that Harry realised that’d been the moment he’d been waiting for. No need for fancy dinners or present it as a loud gift. Being together was a gift enough.

“Lovie?” he asked, nose hidden in her hair. “You awake?”

All he received in answer was a small hum. She was on the verge of passing out, but this was the moment, so, he whispered the question, voice so low as if he was asking the dark to marry him not Y/N.

He couldn’t look at her, afraid of what she might say, afraid she might say no, think back to the times he wasn’t there for her, think of all the reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her, and would only bring her sorrow.

“Lover.” Her voice was as soft as a summer’s morning. “Look at me. Please.”

It was one of the most frightening things in his life, as he did so.

Y/E/C eyes met green. What he saw on her face allowed his heart to calm down a little.

“Is the Sun the closest star to us?”

That he hadn’t expected. “What?”

“Does it rise in the East and set in the West?”

“Y-yes?”

Her hand cupped his cheek, and he melted against her. “Then why are you asking me a question you know the answer will be the same as to those?”

“Can I put the ring on your finger then?” He was more excited than about anything in his life.

Y/N shook her head, bringing his lips to brush against hers. “Don’t need a ring. Just need you to kiss me.”

***

The wedding was far away from the city so that no one from the press could even think about following her or her entourage. The guest list was small, compared to the three hundred people Harry’s and her wedding had had.

Anne had told him not to go. He wasn’t invited, and neither was she or Gemma, for obvious reasons. As much as Y/N loved them, she knew it’d hurt the two women, but it would hurt Harry more. So seeing her stepping out of the car, dressed in a cream wedding gown, a veil covering her face, made flashbacks appear behind Harry’s eyelids.

She’d worn an off-white gown before as well, dusty rose to be exact. And Harry’s bow tie had matched it. Y/N had never liked the thought of wearing white at her wedding.

“Listen, if it’s white, I’ll most definitely spill something on it,” she’d told him as both of them had been flipping through some wedding magazines. “You know me. But if it’s some other colour, there’s a bigger chance no one will notice when that happens.”

It didn’t seem right to him. It was like a bad fever-dream like he’d had that one time, and Y/N had had to listen to him babble about the hallucinations dancing in front of him because of the high temperature.

Her gaze remained on the ground, or maybe on the bucket of white roses in her hands. She hated white roses.

A woman in a pale blue dress straightened out the back of Y/N’s dress and the train of it, and he watched as her mother came to stand beside her daughter, giving her an elbow to grasp onto.

All he wanted was for Y/N to be happy, and it hurt to think it wasn’t with him because Harry believed it was supposed to be him.

He took in a shaky breath and got out of the car just as Y/N had walked up the steps and disappeared behind the double doors.

It was going to be him.

***

Harry knew he wasn’t the best husband in the world. He was away for a lot of time, and as conceited of an excuse it was, his job did entail going out to parties, mingling with other people living the high life, and being seen with certain celebs.

Y/N was never one for it. She always supported Harry, but she didn’t like going out and spending time with people who didn’t care for her existence. Well, maybe they did, but only in a sense that she’d been the lucky bitch who’d snagged up the Harry Styles.

But if there was something Harry did was love, and he loved wholeheartedly, which is why it absolutely destroyed him when he’d gotten back home one evening and heard Y/N crying in their bathroom.

She’d never tell him, but it was because no longer did his pillow smell like him. Harry had been away for so long, that the essence of him that’d soaked into their sheets was no longer there. And it broke her to pieces.

When he’d get home, he’d be so tired, he’d crash on the couch, only tiptoeing his way into their shared room to go to his closet and get some clean clothes in the morning. He’d look over at his sleeping wife and allow a blissful smile to bloom on his face at the sight.

He was so lucky to have Y/N back in his life. He was so lucky she’d accepted him and fallen for him as he’d fallen for her. He’d silently move over and press a kiss to her temple, before going back down and off to work once more. Only he wouldn’t see the dried tears on her cheeks.

So, when he’d found her curled up in the tub, hands in her hair, face hidden by her knees, frame trembling like leaves in a storm, he instantly dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his bones, as he pulled Y/N into him.

“I can’t, Harry,” she choked out, shaking her head. He knew it was bad. She never called him by his name. “I can’t do this. I’m so alone. Even when you’re here, I’m alone.”

Harry had had his heart broken before, and always he wondered afterwards if someone took it out of his chest at that moment, what kind of a sound would it make. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d be as silent as the tears running down his face at Y/N’s confession.

“Maybe,” he swallowed harshly trying to keep his whole body from shaking, from showing the fear her statement instilled in him. “Maybe we need couple’s therapy.”

“What?” her eyebrows had shot up to the middle of the forehead.

“Y/N, we’re clearly having problems. I – I know I need to work on things, but you’re also not telling me how you’re feeling. Maybe we just need some help.”

She didn’t really know what to respond. In her mind, Y/N had somehow conjured up an image that if she ever got married, they’d be happy. Sure, they’d fight and have rows, but they’d always be able to work things out on their own. Not once in her life, did she ever think she’d need to go and see a marriage counsellor to help her save her marriage.

Her own parents much like Harry’s had gotten divorced. Hers had tried therapy. It’d been their last resort. It didn't work. So, when he’d mentioned it to her, that’s what made her decide it was truly over.

Y/N nodded, bringing him in for a hug, and felt his body melt into hers with relief.

She’d try, for Harry, but her mind was already made up.

***

So he stood outside the doors, listening for the line of ‘if there is anyone who opposes this union speak up now, or forever hold your peace’. His hand grasped the handle, ready to push, but… he couldn’t. He’d ruined her happy ever after once before. He couldn’t do that again to her.

Tears streamed down his face as he pocketed his hands and ventured away from the ceremony. The ceremony where the love of his life was promising to cherish someone else, to fight through thick and thin with someone else, to make someone else happy, while her own happiness suffered.

Harry sat in his car, waiting for her to exit, a smile on her face as she’d hold the hand of who now was her husband. That'd be the moment he'd let go of her. But when the doors sprung open, she was alone, hands clutching onto the front of her dress, as she rushed down the steps and back inside the car she’d arrived in.

For a second he sat in his vehicle, stunned beyond belief at what had happened, at what, as horrible as it sounded, he hoped had happened. When a man, hand in his hair ran outside as well, the same woman in the pale blue dress rushing out with him, Harry knew.

He was basically a madman on the road, breaking almost every possible law as he tried to catch up to the car Y/N had jumped in.

His mind raced with the possibilities of where she could’ve gone. The airport, her family’s summer house in Winchester, honestly anywhere in the world, but Harry shut up his mind, and allowed his heart to make the decision.

It didn’t seem like Y/N had premeditated fleeing from her wedding, which meant she’d need her stuff. And that meant going to her apartment as quickly as possible before someone came to look for her.

The way he parked was probably illegal leaving the car basically in the middle of the road, but Harry didn’t care much as he frantically rushed up the steps of her apartment complex. He was scared that if he knocked, she wouldn’t open, thinking it might be someone from the wedding, but he didn’t need to be afraid of it, as he saw Y/N, her hair still styled as it had been for the ceremony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a suitcase in hand exiting from the flat.

“Why didn’t you do it?” he breathlessly asked, startling her and making her drop the keys.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped closer, hand cupping her cheek, insides trembling from all of the emotions coursing through his body. “Why didn’t you do it? Marry him? Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I – “ Y/N choked on her words. “I couldn’t say yes. It didn’t feel right.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t you, I was saying yes to.”

That was all Harry needed to kiss her like he'd done once before. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d made that mistake twice. He would never repeat it again.

“I love you,” he cried through a laugh. “I love you. I love you. I love you. And I’m never letting you slip through my fingers ever again.”

“How can you even think about loving me again after what I did to us?” she asked, pulling away from his lips.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re talking like I ever stopped. Through thick and thin. It’s what we promised. Think and thin, my Lovie."

***

A sixteen-year-old Harry and a fifteen-year-old Y/N laid outside in the grass of Harry’s garden; eyes trained onto the dark night starlit sky above. It was the day before his life changed forever as did hers.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Harry asked, trying to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “No. I don’t think I do. And I don’t think I want one.”

“Why not?”

“What if they’re old and in their thirties? Or dead?”

Harry snorted at her response.

“And you?” Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?

He bit his lip and nodded. “I think I do. I think it’s two people who’ve been brought together, and no matter what happens will find their way to one another. Through thick and thin.”

"And what if one of them breaks the other's heart?"

"That's the thin." He looked at her. "And you don't give up then. It's when you need to love them even more."

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Happy 2021 everyone! Hopefully things are better this year, and everyone stays safe and sound.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my fics on other platforms without specific written permission. Reblogs are a okay :)

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hufflautia · 3 years

Note

Bestie! Please do the slytherpuff girlfriends idea we talked about🥺 Where Huff turns Sly on without meaning to/realising it. A very fluffy (slightly smutty) fic🥰🥰

bestieee😩i literally created a blank post right after reading ur comment and was planning to write a fic for it!!

this is literally all i had written before putting it in my drafts section for an indefinite period of time lmao:') enjoy~~

"And you're sure you don't wanna come?"

Slytherin turned toward Hufflepuff and immediately averted her gaze when she realized her best friend was still in the middle of changing into her outfit for the party tonight.

"Yeah," she replied, wincing at the way her voice came out. Fuck. Why did she have to sound so awkward?

"Aw, okay. I'll miss you." Slytherin picked up on the disappointment in Hufflepuff's voice and swallowed down the funny feeling in her chest.

"I'll miss you too."

Aside from the sound of Hufflepuff putting on her dress, it was silent in the room.

Slytherin sat on Hufflepuff's bed, twiddling her thumbs around. Why did she feel so tense and weird right now? An uncomfortable feeling lingered in her chest, and she tried not to think about the possibility that this was happening because of Hufflepuff, whose back was turned to her.

She couldn't get the image of Hufflepuff half-naked out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself with the patterns on the carpet. She felt like such a predator, thinking about her best friend like that. The last thing she wanted to do was be like those guys who jeer at Hufflepuff when she walked through the corridors, their eyes raking over her figure. No. Fuck that. She could never be like that.

But isn't that what you were just doing?

The thought brought shame to her cheeks. She was jolted from her thoughts when Hufflepuff said something.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Hufflepuff looked over her shoulder from the mirror. "Can you help me zip this up?" She gestured to the back of her dress. "I can't reach it."

Slytherin nodded and walked to Hufflepuff, who faced the mirror. Trying to ignore how the dress parted to reveal Hufflepuff's bare back, she reached down to grab the zipper, finger brushing against her skin in the process.

Slytherin stilled her movements when she heard the sound Hufflepuff made. Did her breath just hitch? She could've sworn she heard a sharp intake of air.

"You okay?" she looked over Hufflepuff's shoulder and met her eyes through the mirror.

"Yeah," Hufflepuff smiled, giving her a slight nod. Slytherin studied her expression, sensing something off about it. The smile seemed...forced.

She refocused her attention to the zipper. It was probably her imagination. Pulling the two sides of the dress together, she was halfway through zipping Hufflepuff up when a grand idea popped into her head. Actually, it wasn't so much of a grand idea as it was a stupid one.

It was stupid. Totally, fucking stupid. But Slytherin just wanted to see how Hufflepuff would react if she brushed her finger against her back again. If nothing happened, then nothing happened, and she could put an end to her restless thoughts. But if something were to happen...

Heartbeat racing, Slytherin zipped up the dress, her thumb grazing her back for a second. She froze when she heard it. No. It couldn't be right. Her initial reaction was to convince herself that her mind was just playing tricks on her. But Slytherin had no doubt about it, having heard her loud and clear.

Hufflepuff had fucking whimpered.

Before she could say anything, Hufflepuff spun around, wordless. They stared at each other until Slytherin finally found her voice.

"I...I finished zipping it up." She mentally face-palmed herself, realizing how dumb she sounded.

Hufflepuff didn't respond for a while, opting for a nod instead. "Yeah," her voice was quiet. "Thanks."

The tension between them was so thick, Slytherin felt like she was suffocating. "Well, I should go," she said hurriedly as if she had somewhere to be. "Have fun at the party–..."

"Wait."

Slytherin paused, stilled by Hufflepuff's hand on hers. She looked from her hand to Hufflepuff, their eyes meeting.

Hufflepuff looked like she was struggling to say something, but when her words finally came out, they were earnest and lacked hesitation, and the way she looked at Slytherin sent shivers down her spine.

"Don't go yet."

HI LOVE sorry that i cut this off short, i initially planned for this to go on longer, like oh-theres-smut longer, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a couple of days and i am not mentally stable enough to continue. my plan was for them to kiss and then perhaps they have a quick chat, bc i wanted to develop slytherin's anxiety first bc she feels like a predator (y'know, i watched a lot of wlw tiktoks in which the person talks about feeling guilt and shame for feeling physically attracted to women or non-binary folk or gender fluid folk or just not cis men because they are afraid that they are objectifying their bodies. theres a whole conversation on that, so i kind of wanted to do something similar for sly in the sense that she had those anxieties, and so i planned for sly and huff to talk about it and for huff to affirm that "i want you". then it gets right into the filth✨specifically fingering, and then huff goes "im gonna be late to the party" and the fic ends with slytherin saying "fuck the party."

TADA <3 hope u enjoyed. sorry that they were besties instead of girlfriends, i could def whip up a fic for that if you'd like (and i would do the same idea of huff's sensitivity to her back).

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 years

Text

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :) )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you."

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm.

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father.

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite.

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him.

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already.

For Percy though, this was the end of the line.

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur.

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement.

Percy.

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling.

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly.

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would.

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that.

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with.

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life.

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could.

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.”

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could.

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.”

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working.

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from.

The Ministry.

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond.

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand.

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said.

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind.

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen.

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that.

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again.

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again.

#percy weasley #Percy Weasely deserved better #angst #self loathing #depression #Percy Weasely needs a hug #blood #Torture #swearing #Sorry if it's rushed

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themaraudersmistress · 3 years

Text

Closure

Pairings: Young ! Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, heartbreak

Word count: 2k +

Summary: Good or bad, sometimes all you need is closure.

A/N: Again, it’s been ages since I’ve posted anything but I had this one sitting in my drafts so I thought I’d go back through, fix it up a little and post it. Originally it was 5k + so I’ve broken it in half. I’ll post the other half once I’ve finished going through it. I really hope you like this one ! x

Tags: @the--real-wombat @sleepylunarwolf @strangenerdsstuff @ashkuuuu @dottirose @fairywriter-oracle @miraclesoflove @daddy-padfoot @angelastein2010 @addled @disneykidafi @wanna-see-my-lease - you can add yourself via the link on my masterlist or send me an ask

The storm rages.

It blankets the city in a thick sheet of rain, thunder rumbling in the distance as the lightning flickers through the dark clouds. It was wild and chaotic, the worst storm that London had had in months; the big, fat drops of water enough to send everyone scurrying under cover. The drizzly evening matched your mood perfectly as you sat in your car, goose bumps prickling along your skin from your damp clothes, the windshield fogging up even more with each frigid breath.

You close your eyes and sigh, clenching and unclenching your fists around the steering wheel as you war with yourself. You’d made the decision with a clear head this morning, convincing yourself it was what you wanted to do, but now you weren’t so sure, a rolling train of insecurities flooding through your mind. Opening your eyes you glance over at the box sitting on your passenger seat, a thousand memories you didn’t want to think about mixed in with the knick knacks. That damn box had been mocking you for the last five days and you’d finally had enough. After all, you were the one that had the ridiculous notion in your head that doing this was going to bring you some kind of closure; that seeing him again, when neither of you were angry and out for blood might take away some of the hurt.

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look through the window, to the townhouse your parked in front of, the large front windows lit up from inside. You loved those windows, the way the sun would pour in first thing in the morning, warming your favourite spot on the couch. It didn’t seem fair, that the house you used to call home still had so much life to it while you were barely making it through each day, drifting further and further from the person you used to be. Your car keys jingle in your hand and once again you’re fighting yourself over what to do. You don’t even know if he’s home, you could just drop the box off at the door and leave, make a clean getaway and go back to pretending your moving on with your life but…

No. Despite everything you need to see him.

Dragging the box up onto your lap you give yourself no time to overthink before heading out into the rain, shivering as cold water runs down your back. You hurry up the driveway but by the time you make it to the front step your still saturated, the reasonably neat bun you’d worn your hair in now a soggy, limp mess at the back of your head. The flood light comes on above you and you freeze, eyes wide as the lock on the door clicks. You start wondering how quickly you can run back to your car before he realises who it is but before you can make any kind of choice the door swings open.

Your throat constricts, your heart beating so fast inside your chest you’re worried it might just give out. Sirius stands there in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow from the house, wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. His curls are deliciously messy, haphazardly pulled back in a loose bun and there’s more scruff on his face then you were used to seeing. You force yourself to swallow around the hard lump in the back of your throat.

His brow dips as he looks at you dripping on his welcome mat, clearly as surprised to see you as you were over being caught. You shuffle awkwardly on the spot, feeling your cheeks get warm. “Hi…” You thrust the box towards him with the lame greeting. “I found some of your stuff mixed in with mine and I just thought I’d...drop them off.” “In the middle of a thunderstorm?”

His voice is like a hard slap to the face, at the same time making you miss him more while also dredging up all the heartbreak you’d tried squashing down. Your relationship had crumbled to pieces in front of your eyes eight weeks ago and by the abysmal end you weren’t on speaking terms. You’d packed up your things and walked out without so much as a backwards glance.

“Yeah… I was - I was on my way… home.” You choke out the last word. You didn’t think of the apartment you moved into home and you don’t think you ever will. This was your home, the place you’d shared with Sirius for the last five years, the place you missed with your whole heart.

Sirius blows out a long sigh and shoves his hand through his hair, tangling it up even more. He chews the corner of his lip, eyes darting between the box in your hands and your dishevelled appearance. An awkward, miserable silence settles between the two of you as you lightly bounce on the balls of your feet. “I guess it’s kind of cold out here,” His tone isn’t angry but it’s not all that welcoming either. “You can come in while the rain eases.”

Yes. Yes… that’s all you want. To go inside and forget all about the last two months, and the three before that were you and Sirius were constantly at each other’s throats. You want it to all go back to how it was before, when you knew that he was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. When your friends didn’t have to feel guilty over spending time with one of you and not the other. You just wanted it to go back to when Sirius loved you more than anything else… You knew it wouldn’t though. There was no going back.

You shake your head as you take a step back, willing the few tears in the corner of your eyes to stay there. You place the box down, suddenly remembering why you were there in the first place. “I - I gotta go.”

No more than five feet down the driveway you feel Sirius’ hand grab your arm, stopping you from leaving. His grip isn’t tight, you could pull away if you wanted to, but his touch feels like a live wire on your skin and you can’t move. Another crack of thunder - this one closer - sounds above your head, the rain cascading down over your body as you look up at your ex, his shirt now glued to his body, accentuating the planes of muscle under the fabric. “You can’t drive in this weather,” He reasons. “Come inside.”

Against your better judgement you let him lead you into the house, immediately missing the warmth of his touch as he lets you go to close and lock the door. You wrap your arms around yourself, only now realising how much you’re actually shivering. Sirius seems to notice as well because he frowns, his hand twitching by his side as though he’s trying to decide if he should reach out to you again. He looks conflicted, like he’s tossing up over whether he should care or not that you’re cold.

“I can get you some dry clothes,” He says, motioning towards the hallway. “Why don’t you have a shower and warm yourself up, I think there’s still some of your stuff in the cupboard. I … I didn’t go through it.” “It’s fine,” You force out, your voice no higher than a whisper. “I don’t want to impose and I really should be going anyway.” “I told you, you can’t drive in weather like this. A shower won’t hurt right? You’ll feel better.” It might hurt, you think. But truthfully a shower did sound pretty good right about now.

Once you agree you follow Sirius down the hall, stopping a couple of doors before he does. You flip on the light in the bathroom, breathing in deeply as you smell his body wash lingering on the air. Everything looks exactly the same - minus your makeup littering the vanity and it makes you kind of sad. Sirius taps his knuckles on the door jam, making you jump as you turn to face him. He holds out some clothes, looking at everything except you as you take them gratefully. There’s a bitter sting in your chest as you notice they’re his clothes. You suppose there’s nothing of yours still here but it still makes your throat feel dry as you hold them against your chest. “Thanks,” You mumble. “Take all the time you want, don’t feel like you have to rush or anything.”

He walks away and you shut the door, leaning back against it heavily as you bring the clothes up to your nose, inhaling the scent on them, catching the barely there whiff of your perfume. It was the t-shirt you always used to wear to bed. Faded, old and full of more holes then a golf course, but you loved it and not all that long ago Sirius loved seeing you in it. Leaving them on the vanity you turn on the tap, letting it warm all the way up before stripping out of your clothes. You step under the stream of water, cold feet burning as the water hits them. It’s the right kind of pain though. There wasn’t much better than a shower when you were cold.

For a few minutes you just stand there, the heat relaxing some of the tension in your muscles. You think about everything that had happened tonight, confused why Sirius was acting the way he was. There was a part of you that had assumed he’d slam the door in your face, spit something hurtful and tell you that he never wanted to see you ever again. Best case scenario you thought he wouldn’t open the door at all, just leaving you standing outside looking like the fool. The fact that he was being kind of… nice made you feel guilty for thinking those things about him. Just because you weren’t dating anymore didn’t mean that he was going to stop caring. Of all the things that Sirius was, he was never cruel. Tonight more than proved that.

Rinsing the body wash off you stepped out of the shower, digging your toes into the fluffy mat as you grabbed your towel, the steam still swirling around the small room. You take your time drying off, nervous about heading back there and facing him. You don’t know how to talk to him anymore, even though at one point he’d been one of your best friends - long before he was your boyfriend. You’re just slipping his old t-shirt over your head when the light cuts out, bathing you in sudden darkness. You reach blindly for where you think the switch is, flipping it a couple of times when you find it, groaning when it does nothing to help. It takes a couple of goes but you finally find the door handle, fully expecting that the bathroom globe had just blown and the rest of the house would still be lit up. The whole house is in darkness though, the hairs standing up on the back of your neck as you head towards the living room, an eerie kind of silence filling the house. It’s too quiet without the background noise of the tv or fridge, the only sound coming from the storm outside. “Sirius?” You call out hesitantly, the lightning flashing in the windows casting long shadows along the walls.

You feel something graze across your shoulder and you turn quickly, the scream dying in your throat as you see Sirius standing behind you, his face lit up by the torch on his phone. “The whole streets out,” He says flatly. “Does your phone have much battery?” “Uh…” You head back into the bathroom, the light from Sirius’ phone making it easier to see where you left yours on the vanity. You frown when you check the battery levels. “It’s only got about thirty three percent, won’t last long.”

Sirius groans, scrubbing a hand over his face as he looks off towards the living room, a frown on his face, his expression guarded, unreadable. “You don’t remember if we had a torch do you?” “I don’t think so,” You answer, wrapping your arms tight around yourself. “I think there’s some candles in the lounge though… or there was.”

Without a word he shuffles past you and walks down the hall. You follow behind him, watching as he grabs some candles from the cupboard on the tv cabinet. It feels a lot like he just packed you away, hid all the things that reminded him of you. He grabs the matches from the same cupboard, striking one and lighting the candles he’d scattered across the coffee table. Soon the room is illuminated with a soft light. It feels warmer somehow, like it’s taken the chill off the room. Sirius sits on the couch and suddenly that awkward silence is back.

Biting your lip you move across and sit down, keeping as far from him as possible, holding your hands tightly in your lap. You hate how it is between the both of you, how this breakup had rocked the two of you down to your core. While you were simply trying to make it through each new day, Sirius had put walls up around himself and was clearly in no hurry to let you know how he was really feeling. You bite the edge of your lip and wring your hands together. “Crazy storm hey?” You aim for light hearted customer service voice but it comes out forced and a little flat.

Sirius scoffs. “You want to talk about the weather? Really?” “Well it doesn’t seem like you want to have any other kind of conversation… actually it seems like you prefer not talking at all, so let’s just sit here in awkward silence.” “There’s nothing to say.” “You and I both know that’s not true. I just want you to talk to me Sirius, hell yell at me if it’s going to make you feel better; get everything off your chest. Just say something.” “Why now y/n? Why do you suddenly want to air all our dirty laundry? It’s not like you were this desperate to talk about it before.” “That’s not fair,” You reply, digging your fingernails into the palm of your hands. “I tried talking to you, for months before we ended things Sirius. You’re the one that never wanted to deal with it.”

Sirius stands abruptly, stalking to the other side of the room before whirling back to face you, that unreadable expression - the one he’d been wearing since he opened the door - finally breaking. You can’t see him properly from all the shadows in the room but you can see enough to notice the hurt in his eyes. He opens his mouth a couple of times, trying to find the right way to say what he wants to. When he can’t, he storms from the room. You watch him go with a frustrated sigh.

It was all coming to the surface, everything before and after the breakup, all of the feelings the two of you had buried, squashed down and tried to pretend didn’t still exist. The flood gates were open and good or bad the two of you needed closure.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fic #young ! sirius black x reader #sirius black angst #angst fic #x reader #y/n #hp fic #hp x reader #hp angst fic

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americxn · 3 years

Text

Taking care of (some of) the Evans when they’re drunk

a/n: this was meant to stay in my drafts but the fic that I was meant to post tonight is taking a lot longer to finish than I thought it would so have this instead; I really don’t like this but I might as well post it if I can’t get anything else out tonight, sorry!

Warnings: alcohol mention, swearing

TATE LANGDON

- Tate doesn’t drink very often, but when he does he has a tendency to go a little too hard. - The two of you would decide to have a little party with just the two of you in the murder house, but by 11pm Tate was already staring right through you, his cheeks a rosy pink and his eyes half closed. - “I think we should just go to bed.” You would giggle, your hand coming to rest on the side of Tate’s face in an effort to get him to actually look at you properly. “You’re fucked.” - He wouldn’t argue with you, allowing you to lead him the bathroom where you brush his teeth and get him to go to the toilet before taking him to bed. - Tate would hurry to shuck all his clothes off, his eyes trained on you as you slide into bed, smiling up at him and patting the exposed part of the mattress next to you. - “Lightweight.” You would joke as he snuggled into your side, causing him to scowl. “No, you just didn’t drink enough.” He would quietly slur, his eyes falling shut immediately as he moved to rest his cheek on your bare chest.

KIT WALKER - Kit would come home absolutely wasted after going out for drinks with his friends, throwing the door open and stumbling into the house. - You would already be in bed, but not being able to sleep until he was home safe, and the sound of the door banging open would cause you to shoot up, padding barefoot to the kitchen where Kit was stood in disorientation by the kitchen sink. - “Kit?” You would whisper, causing him to turn towards you, stumbling slightly, with a sleepy grin. “Hey.” He would whisper back. “Are you okay?” You would rush over to him as he attempted to take a step towards you, teetering dangerously on his feet. “Yeah.” He would answer sleepily, his weight heavy as he leaned onto you, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Geez,” you would laugh. “It’s not like you to let yourself get this fucked.” - Kit’s head would snap up, once again throwing off his balance and causing him to stumbled, you trying your best to keep a hold of him. “Are you annoyed at me?” He would grumble with a frown at your comment, to which you would shake your vigourously. “No! No, god no. I just haven’t seen you like this before. I don’t care how much you drink as long as you come home to me eventually, you know this.” - Kit would giggle then, mumbling a “yeah, I guess I do.” - It would be a struggle to help him walk down the short hall to your shared room, his weight almost causing your own knees to buckle as he leaned himself onto you. Already half-asleep on his feet, trying to get him into the bathroom and clean him up before putting him to bed would’ve been impossible, so you simply let him flop onto the bed face first, moving to take off his jacket and shoes. - He was already snoring when you crawled back into bed beside him, his weight on top of the covers making it hard for you to get comfortable beneath them. But you didn’t care, just relieved that he came home to you, miraculously in one piece.

(franken)KYLE SPENCER

- The first time that Kyle drank alcohol after his death was disastrous. - He had seen you drinking plenty of times and knew that when you went to parties, leaving Kyle for a rare evening on his own in the house, the bag that you would take with you was full of various bottles of drink, the sound of them clinking together from within the bag always intriguing him. - You had walked into the kitchen one evening to see Kyle angrily pulling at the top of a beer bottle, his teeth gritted in effort as he tried to open it. You watched for a second, amused, before hurrying over when he slammed the top of it down against the table. Intervening, you took the bottle from his hand. - “Careful, you’ll either smash it or hurt your hands trying to get it open.” He only stared at you, panting angrily. “You want to try some?” You would ask, moving around his hard-set body to the drawers and pulling out your bottle opener. He nodded with a grunt, playing with his fingers in irritation as he watched you open the bottle. - “Here.” You held it out to him, leaning against the table and watching as he tipped back his head, drinking deeply. Immediately, his head righted itself, the drink sputtering from his lips onto the floor. You laughed. “It’s gross, huh?” - “Why?” He screeched. “Because... I don’t know. I don’t drink beer.” At his horrified look at the bottle of beer in his hand you giggled. “Do you want to try something else? That’s gross, try something that I like, I think you’ll probably like it to.” - Retrieving a bottle of cheap rose from a high-up shelf in your kitchen, you poured him a glass. The wine was sickly sweet and easy to drink, one of the reasons that you drank it so often, but drink enough of it and it would have you vomiting after a bottle, blacking out after two. Needless to say, Kyle drained his glass, then the next and the next. - An hour later, he lay sated on the couch, his eyes half-open and grinning up at you. He wouldn’t talk, he would merely stare at you in wonder, and you would stare right back, unsure of why you thought that it was a good idea to let him drink in the first place - Finally, you convinced him to let you drag him up the stairs to bed, his grunts and grumbles as you did so incessant. It was often hard enough to get Kyle to brush his teeth properly anyway so you settled on letting his collapse into a heap on top of the covers. However, as soon as his eyes fell shut, they flew open again, Kyle shrieking and jumping back to his unsteady feet. You lurched forwards just in time to catch him. - “What? Kyle, what’s wrong?” You asked, panicked as he twisted in your arms and buried his face in your neck, his fingertips shaky as he gripped onto the front of your shirt. “Moved.” He explained, throwing out a pointed finger to the bed behind him. It took you a while to coax a coherent answer from Kyle, by which point he was already half asleep on his feet with his head rested on your shoulder. - The way the room span when Kyle lay down on the bed really freaked him out and you had to explain to him that it happened to you to, it was just the alcohol. But, still, he refused to lie back down with him until you agreed to sleep right next to him, which you obliged him on instantly. - He was up a total of three times that night vomiting his guts up, you spending the entire time kneeling on the cold tiles of the bathroom behind him, hating yourself for letting him drink in the first place.

JIMMY DARLING - It took Jimmy a few months to slowly ease his way back into drinking for pleasure after his mother’s death and the addiction that ensued. - At first, he would only have a glass of wine or a bottle of beer here or there while the rest of you drank heavy liquor at your weekly camp parties. - But eventually, when he was sure that he wasn’t going to over do it and fall back into his old habits, he was drinking the same amount as everyone else again. - One night in particular, you decided to go back to yours and Jimmy’s shared caravan after the Saturday evening show instead of staying out with the others to celebrate another successful week. You were tired, you just wanted to sleep. - You were awoken in the middle of the night with a jolt when Jimmy came crashing and stumbling through the door of your caravan, the reek of cheap beer hanging around him and filling the small space almost instantly. - You groaned, throwing the covers over your head as he tried to close the door quietly. - You heard his not-so-light footsteps as he made his way over to you, trying in vain to be as quiet as possible. It was silent for a moment before you heard Jimmy whisper from beside your head: “Hey. Y/n?” - “Yes?” You whispered back, praying that he would just get into bed next to you and fall asleep. But of course he would do no such thing. “Are you awake?” He asked under his alcohol-soaked breath. “No.” You grumbled, causing him to sigh. “Okay, I’ll... wait.” You heard the grin in his tone at his realisation and threw the covers back to reveal your face and sleep-tousled hair. - “Hi.” He breathed, his breath soaked with the reek of alcohol. When you merely stared at him, unamused, he continued. “I’m really hungry, would you like something to eat?” - At your dismissal, he frowned, standing and making his way to the the small kitchenette, his foot falls heavy. The sound of cupboards opening and packets rustling drew you from the reach of sleep once more and you sat up, the covers falling off your shoulders as you beheld his bulky outline in the dark. - “Wait.” You hissed, forcing yourself into action and sliding off the bed. “You’ll burn the caravan down if you try to make anything.” He giggled as you approached him, pausing by the door to switch on the lights. “What do you want? I’ll have to make it for you.”

#american horror story #ahs #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs coven #ahs freakshow #tate langdon #tate langdon headcanon #kit walker headcanons #kit walker #kyle spencer #Kyle spencer Headcanons #jimmy darling #jimmy darling headcanons #ahs fanfiction #ahs fandom

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talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

Quid Pro Quo

Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst :))) [7k]

massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume @for-fucks-sake-h and @emotionally-imbruised 🥺💛

This has got to be one of the worst weeks of your professional life.

It’s only Thursday and this past week you haven’t left your office before eleven every night. You’re currently working on nine cases, two of which require immediate action, and you’ll most likely have to go to trial for at least three of the cases because the motions to dismiss that you filed were denied. Last night alone you didn’t get a wink of sleep because you were busy preparing for a deposition this morning, which turned out to be practically useless, because your client completely ignored your advice and said everything you told them not to and basically shit the bed for you.

You know this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a lawyer at a top law firm in the City. Clifford Chance is not a joke, there’s a reason why they’re number second in the UK and you knew that long before you even started working here. There’s a common knowledge which most law students throughout the UK knows, that if you work at Clifford Chance, you don’t get to sit around. Put it this way: if you let six minutes tick away without achieving anything, you’ve wasted the firm fifty pounds. Twelve minutes: one hundred pounds. Eighteen minutes: one fifty. You do the math.

It’s not that you hate your job. On the contrary, you absolutely love your job. You know you’re good at it. You love the thrill of negotiation. You like to argue and make the best point in the room. You’re addicted to the adrenaline rush of closing a deal, and frankly, nothing satisfy you more than spotting the loopholes in a contract (with the exception of sex of course but it has really been a while and you’re practically a nun these days so it’s not even worth mentioning).

But sometimes it’s just too much. You’ve been working for fifty five hours per week, and sure, the money’s good (scratch that—the money’s great), but you don’t have a life outside of work and you’re beginning to realise that it’s one hell of a price to pay.

The truth is, you know all this nonsense is not because you hate your job, nor because you’re stretched too thin. Interestingly, you actually thrive under pressure and you know that’s one of your qualities that makes you a good lawyer. And life outside of work? Even the thought of it makes you laugh. Your work is your life. You’ve never complained about that. This bitterness inside of you that you don’t even realise exists emerged when Harry Styles waltzed into your firm three months ago. You don’t normally make a big deal about people coming into the firm, because you’re good with people and you’re friends with everyone. But the thing is, you resent him because your firm gave him a senior partner title right away, one that you’ve been busting your arse for by working about two hundred hours per month minimum for the past year, just because he came from your firm’s rival which happens to be the number one law firm in the UK. And on top of that, he didn’t come empty handed. He brought five big clients with him when he came knocking on your firm’s door, and that sort of sealed the deal for your managing partner to choose him instead of you to be promoted to senior partner this year.

Bloody bum licker.

Your frustrated groan bounces off the thin walls of your two bedroom flat that you shared with your best friend and you accidentally slam the door a little too harsh. Luckily, she’s used to you coming home in such a state for the past three months, so she just turns her head to see you from where she’s sat on the couch in the living room, stifling a laugh.

“Harry Styles?” She ventures, smirking at you and you groan in annoyance as you throw your keys in the bowl.

“Harry,” you grunt. “Fucking Styles.”

Fran can’t help but laugh, and you give her a look that tells her you’d probably kill her if she keeps that up as you walk past her and straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, so she’s back trying to stifle her laughter.

“Alright,” she replies, you can hear amusement in her tone. “What did he do this time?”

“He took my case!” you snap as you plop down on the couch with a bottle of Riesling in your hand. Fran puts her laptop on the coffee table and turns to face you, sitting expectantly, waiting for the oncoming rant. “He’s just- ugh. I can’t stand him, Fran. He’s unbelievable.”

“What?” She stares at you in confusion. “How?”

“So Luke came to the office this morning-”

“Luke-”

“Don’t-” you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “I know what you’re about to say, and yes, that Luke. So, he came to the office this morning because he’s got a problem. Basically, his company just cut a huge deal but he needs to get out of this contract because his general counsel accidentally let them slip something into the fine print.”

“Shit,” she remarks. “That is a fireable offense.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “The guy was fired on the spot. The thing is, if Luke fulfills this order, he goes out of business.”

“And if he doesn’t,” she pauses, looking at you for a second before adding another remark. “Shit, they’ll sue him for breach of contract.”

“Exactly,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it all day trying to spot loopholes in the contract to save his company.”

You really miss working together with Fran. You’ve been living together since you were both still in law school, and Fran used to work in Clifford Chance as well until ten months ago when she decided she wanted to focus on fashion law and moved to Addleshaw Goddard.

It’s not that you’re not happy for her. You’re glad she found something that she’s passionate about. It’s just you’re so used to working on cases and going to mock trials together and you can’t deny that you miss it sometimes. You just wish that she’d stayed, because you know it would be much easier to handle Harry if you’ve got your best friend with you.

“Right,” she nods. “And I’m guessing Harry came to you and he wanted in?”

“That bastard!” You scowl. “He just waltzed into my office out of the blue and was like, ‘I gather Luke Whiteacre needs to get out of something? I want in.’ I mean… who does that?! He didn’t even say hi when he walked in!”

Fran snickers at your terrible impression of Harry. She hasn’t met him yet but she knows there’s no way he talks like that. “And you’re upset because he didn’t say hi?”

“Fran!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she hastily amends. “Look, maybe he’s just trying to help? He’s not taking your case, babe, believe me. You’re still on it, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am,” you let out another sigh.

“See?” She goes on. “And even if he tries to, Luke wouldn’t let it happen. He’s been your client since forever.”

“Still. I don’t like the fact that he thought he could just walk into my office and hijack my case,” you say in exasperation. “I’m gonna kill him, Fran. I swear to god I’m gonna kill him.”

Fran burst in laughter, muttering your name in a chastising tone. “Don’t. You won’t look good in prison stripes,” she shakes her head. “Really rubs you in the wrong way, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, babe,” she continues with a smirk. “I’ve said this before, you need to shag him. Take out all those frustrations…”

“Keep that up and I’ll put your name on my people-to-murder list next to his,” you grunt, standing up from the couch and head towards the kitchen hoping to find some treats from the snack cabinet.

Fran giggles as she takes her laptop back onto her lap and begins typing. “Let’s go out,” she suggests. “Been a while. You look like you could use a night out.”

“I can’t,” you slump against the couch with a bag of chocolate buttons. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? Harry?” She looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Yeah,” you shrug carelessly. “We need to work on Luke’s case.”

“Have you still got some condoms in your room?” She says teasingly. “I’ve got some just in case you need them. Just-”

The sound of the doorbell rings cuts your best friend’s teasing remark. It’s definitely Harry, and you give Fran one last death glare and Ross Geller’s version of middle finger as you get up from the couch and walk towards the front door to let him in.

“Hey,” he greets you with his usual smug smile that irritates you to no end. “Lovely flat you’ve got here.”

“We better get started,” you say dismissively as you close the door behind him before you lead him into your living room. You suddenly realise that it’s your first time seeing him not in one of his expensive suits. Not that you care enough about him to notice that. It’s just he happens to be wearing a lot of Jermyn Street suits, and you know they don’t come cheap.

This time he’s only in his crisp white button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbow. His arms are full with folders that you asked him to take from the office, and as the two of you walk into your living room, you see Fran turning her head to greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey, you must be Fran,” he smiles as he strides to the couch.

“And you must be Harry,” Fran replies, before tilting her head to smirk at you. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Harry chuckles. “Only good thing, I hope?”

“Oh,” Fran can’t help but snort. “Only the best.”

You end up ordering Chinese because neither of you have had dinner, and Fran ends up helping both you and Harry on the case in the living room. Even with three heads brainstorming together you’re still struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It is now past midnight and you and Harry are still working on your case. Fran has gone up to her room a little over two hours ago, leaving just the two of you in your living room. Your coffee table is strewn with photocopied draft contracts, financial reports, note-pads covered in scribbles, post-its and two cups of cold coffee from four hours ago that both of you keep accidentally drinking. Take-out boxes are littering the floor, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you read through yet another file to find literally anything which could potentially help.

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry says in exasperation. “How did you even come up with that? I was just saying you’re knackered, well we both are, so we’re not thinking clearly. But you know what? If you wanna keep going, that’s your decision. But I’m not going to.”

“Well, I never asked you to!” you retort defensively.

Harry rolls his eyes as he gets up from your couch, heading towards the door without saying another word and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. With Harry, you’re quite capable of going from calm to seething in 0-60, and you’re too pissed to even notice Fran stifling her giggles from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Fran appears in the living room with a glass of water in her hand, staring at you with one eyebrow arched high. “There’s no tension there at all.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, give it a rest!”

***

By two o’clock you’re already exhausted and brain dead after only three hours of sleep and non-stop work since this morning. You haven’t even had lunch yet, but even just the thought of eating already makes you nauseous because you can’t stop thinking about how crushed Luke is going to be when you tell him that he’s going out of business. Truth be told you don’t want to jump that far, but what Harry said last night keeps replaying on your mind like a broken cassette. ‘If you were to come up with something, you would have by now.’ And here you are, twenty-eight hours later, still have got nothing.

Speak of the devil.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks in a prickly tone as he walks into your office. His brows are knitted together and he looks concerned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Honestly, a ‘hi’ would be nice.

“I’ll tell you where,” you shift your attention from your computer and look at him. “I was getting screwed by Berkeley Group and trying to figure out what to do about it.”

Harry gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“I went there with a dozen win-win offers and they shot down every single one,” you say stonily.

“Did you threaten litigation?” asked Harry, a bit superciliously.

“Harry, I threaten them with everything but the kitchen sink,” you flash him an incandescent look. “The thing is, this contract is airtight and they know it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry says promptly with a glint of hope in his eyes. “And this won’t make Luke go out of business.”

“What you on about?”

“Slicing and dicing,” says Harry with a smug smile.

You flash him another incandescent look. “Are you telling me that your big brilliant idea is to split his commercial division from his retail?”

The glint of hope disappears from his eyes as he looks at you. “This is the only way out.”

“Cutting someone’s arm off is not a way out!” you practically shriek.

“It is if their life depends on it!” Harry yells in frustration, the volume of his voice matches yours and you can’t help but notice two associates stop for a second just to have a peek at you and Harry having a screaming match before they continue walking past your office.

“Look,” he begins again, and you know he’s calmed down a little because he’s not as loud as three seconds ago. “If we do this, we have a chance to get Berkeley back to the table before we cut anything off.”

“Listen to me Harry,” you venture after a pause. “I’m sorry but we’re not going back to Luke with this bullshit. Thank you for your help so far, but you’re off the case.”

“What?” Harry turns to you in disbelief.

“You heard me,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect. “I’m taking back this case.”

You turn your attention back to some random document on your desk, pretending to read carefully, not daring to meet his eyes. Luckily he leaves your office without saying another word after a second or two of pause, and you slump back further on your chair as he slams your door behind him.

For the rest of the afternoon you’ve decided to keep yourself busy with your other cases, but you know deep down you won’t be able to focus on anything else before you get Luke out of the woods. You can’t let him go out of business. You just can’t. Not only because you’ve been looking after his company for years, hell you were only an associate when he first became a client, but you also saw with your own eyes how his company grew. He was only just starting his business when he came into your firm, and you witnessed it firsthand how he nurtured it into the big and successful company it is now.

On a side note, you also can’t stop thinking about what happened in your office earlier. Sure, you and Harry don’t particularly get along like a house on fire, but you didn’t have to be so rude, did you? His approach to the problem might be different than yours, but deep down you knew he was only trying to help.

So on your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you decided to stop by his office. You know you owe him an apology.

“Hi,” his door is open but you decided to knock anyway. “Mind if I come in?”

He looks up at you instantly, pushing his chair a little further away from his desk to break his attention from his computer. “Of course not, come in.”

“Look-”

You both say simultaneously, before breaking into a chuckle.

“Let me go first,” he begins with a smile, which for some reason doesn’t look smug this time and you nod. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. That case is yours to begin with, and I should’ve trusted you to bring it home how you see fit.”

“Well I’m sorry too,” you add hastily. “Guess I let my emotion get the best of me back there. I was rude when you were only trying to help.”

“Hey, no need to apologise to me,” he replies without flickering. “I absolutely understand.”

“It’s just,” you continue as you saunter to his desk. “Luke was my first client. Ever. The first time I went solo on a case, it was for his company. I just can’t let him down.”

“Look, we don’t know that yet,” he assures you gently. “And even if it comes to that point, it’s not your fault. If anything it’s the general counsel’s fault.”

“Holy shit-” you say suddenly. “Harry!”

“What?” he looks at you in confusion.

“The general counsel didn’t just make one mistake,” you go on as you look at Harry with glimmering hope. “He made two, he never ran the final contract by me.”

“Holy shit he didn’t,” Harry remarks. “Because he knew you’d catch any mistake. So he didn’t make a mistake…”

“No it was on purpose,” you can’t help a pleased little smile coming to your lips. “Isn’t it a coincidence that he just signed a contract to work at a subsidiary of Berkeley?”

“This is brilliant,” he replies excitedly. “You’re brilliant.”

“Say that again?” you joke.

“No, you need to get them on the phone right now,” Harry gives you a rictus smile. “And I need to find us some bloody champagne.”

***

Harry grins as he walks into your office and asks, as though you’re mid-conversation. “Have you made the call?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” you grin when you notice a bottle of Moët & Chandon in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Leftovers from the Christmas party,” he chuckles as he quickly opens it . “How’s it? What did they say?”

“Well, the contract is back exactly the way it was,” you begin, giving him a smug smile for a change. “Well, with a twenty five percent increase.”

He looks at you suspiciously, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Twenty five?”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes comically. “Forty.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles. “You don’t mess about, do you? Remind me to never mess with you.”

You laugh and take a sip of the champagne. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Oh no, I’ve got something better,” you smirk as you hand him a folder. “Take a look.”

Harry takes the folder promptly and begins skimming through the documents, occasionally taking sips of the champagne in between. “Aha, you need to get out of a deal.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “We need to get out of a deal I negotiated for a mobile payment app with our client’s credit card provider.”

“This is a three years deal and you’re only three months in,” Harry observes as he continues skimming through the files.

“Well, that’s what makes it fun, innit?” your grin widens.

“Oh, absolutely. This is fun,” his eyes twinkling in delight. “You don’t have any legal grounds to do it. Have you got something in mind?”

“Mhm,” you hum as you take another swig of champagne. “I think if I can find a reason to pay into a trust instead of to them directly then we can squeeze them…”

“Make them take a buyout,” Harry adds.

“Look at us finishing each other’s sentences already,” you make an elaborate gesture with your champagne flute and Harry gives you a shrill laugh.

“We’re best friends now, aren’t we?”

You retort at once. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Alright,” says Harry, his eyes still flashing with amusement. “That’s a good plan by the way. What do you want me to do?”

“I need precedents by noon.”

“You’ll have them on your desk by nine am sharp,” he smirks.

***

Harry keeps his promise.

When you arrive in your office at a little over nine, there are six folders from Harry waiting for you on your desk, which means that he didn’t only get you one or two but six precedents for the new case that you’re both working on. This is the boost of confidence that you need, because today you’re scheduled to go to the judge’s chamber and meet with the lawyer on the opposing side. Who knows, maybe this will be a quick one and the case will be over by the end of the day.

Well, that’s a nice thought. But in order for the case to be dismissed, the lawyer from the opposing side needs to show up here first and foremost. You’ve been sitting in the judge’s chamber for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he has warned you about ten times that if the other lawyer doesn’t show up, he would have to deny your motion to dismiss.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” a voice pipes in from the door, and when you turn around, you see a woman with a smug smile that reminds you of Harry’s, clad in L.K. Bennett from head to toe walks into the room. She offers you a hand before she sits down, and you politely reach out yours for a handshake. “Camille Sweetings, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” you give her a mocking smile as you begin confidently. “Well, you haven’t lived up to your obligations and according to these six precedents, we have the right to nullify this entire deal right now.”

You really don’t like the look on her face. Any other lawyers would at least be slightly ticked to hear that, but she still has the same smug smile across her face. “You don’t have the right to do anything, you’re in violation of your contract.”

“Paying into a trust isn’t a violation,” you frown.

“No,” she agrees. “But meeting with the competition is.”

You can’t see your own face, but if you do, you’re most likely to look like you’ve just seen a ghost. How did she even know that? You try to remain calm and look at the judge. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No,” she’s smiling as she says the word. “You just didn’t know I’d find out about it. Your Honour, I’ve got a confirmation that YN YLN has engaged in a pattern of dirty tricks, unethical behaviour and borderline illegal activity. All in the name of ‘representing’ her clients.”

Your rage simmers up into a froth. “If you’re gonna say all that about me, you better damn well be able to back it up.”

You want nothing more than to rip off the smirk across her face as she hands two files to the judge. “Here are two of Ms YLN's old cases. There you’ll find settlements withheld and meetings with the competition.”

“How the hell did you get these?!” you exclaim indignantly. “Your Honour, my past cases have no relevance here.”

“No, but your answers to my question do,” he says sternly. “Did you or did you not meet with the competition last week?”

***

You stride back into your office furiously. Who the hell was that woman? You didn’t even know her yet she apparently knew a damn lot about you. Nobody even knew you had a meeting with the competition last week, so there has got to be something bigger going on yet you just can’t seem to figure that out.

You begin to realise maybe this whole case isn’t a good idea and you silently promise yourself that you will never take on anything with getting out of contracts or deals or basically everything that Harry is good at ever again. This isn’t your thing, this is Harry’s. Your thing is everything that has everything to do with mergers, acquisitions, all that, just like Fran’s thing is everything with fashion law. This whole thing is really stressing you out and you plan to speak to Harry when you get the chance later today to just hand him the case.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey! How was the hearing?” he sounds jovial as he walks into your office with a bright smile. “Should I get another bottle of champagne for tonight? Of course when I say ‘get’ I meant ‘steal’ from downstairs.”

“The judge bit my head off,” you scoff.

He flashes you a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

“The other lawyer found some dirt about me,” you begin, already seething as you picture her face with that bloody smug smile in your head. “She found two of my old cases and said really nasty things about me to the judge. And before you say anything, no, I didn’t do anything illegal. But I’ve got to admit it was unethical.”

“Shit,” he looks at you, concerned. “Look, there’s no way they could’ve found all those shit just like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about,” you reply at once. “There’s got to be something bigger going on. This is a desperate move, I tell you.”

“I agree,” he nods. “It sounds shady, and in my experience the other side only does something like this when they’ve already done something even shadier.”

You look at him with a glint of hope. “So you also think they’re hiding something?”

“Yeah,” he sounds so sure. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna find it.”

“Good,” you remark. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let bloody Camille Sweetings get the better of me.”

“Wait, who?” this time, it’s Harry who looks like he has just seen a ghost. The colours have drained from his face, and you look at him in confusion.

“Camille Sweetings,” you repeat yourself, wrinkling your nose in disgust because you hate the sound of her name rolling out of your lips. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Have they put my name on this case?” he ignores your questions.

“Yeah, yesterday,” you frown. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath before he begins, looking at you in the eyes. “She and I, well, uh, we were together for a while.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your dismay. “Fucking hell, Harry. As if this isn’t complicated enough!”

You lapse into silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say.

“I think this is personal,” he ventures after the pause. “Look, if you want me off the case now, I completely understand. I won’t fight you. But I hope you don’t because you need help now more than ever.”

“Just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Please get out of my office.”

***

By nine pm you’ve already come up with three win-win offers, yet Camille bloody Sweetings gives you a shrill laugh every time and shoots down every single one. Honestly, she is the female version of Harry. They make a great couple, those two shady bastards. They should’ve gotten married and make a couple of shady children.

“Sod off, Harry,” you say without even moving your head from looking at your computer, but you know he’s standing in front of your office, probably waiting for the right time to come in. Honestly, he might be a brilliant lawyer but he sucks big time at a simple game of hide and seek. Behind the wall? That’s a toddler-level hiding spot.

“No,” he insists, finally walking towards your desk. “I wanna help.”

“I told you I don’t need your help,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect.

He says your name sternly, making you look in his direction and finally meets his eyes. “Believe me, you do. You think I’m shady? That bloody snake is ten times worse. You need help, and I don’t care what you say because I’ve just checked and my name is still on the attorneys listed.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Take a look at this. This is as best as she could get yet she bloody refused them all.”

Harry takes the files from your hand and quickly skims through the documents, muttering one or two profanities under his breath before he puts them back on your desk. “You know what, we’re going out tonight.”

Is he joking?

“My arse is on the line here in case you haven’t realised,” you look at him in disbelief. “She pulls shit like this again, it’s gonna cost me my license.”

Your name rolls out of his lips again and he looks at you without blinking. “Come on, we need to blow off some steam. We don’t do that, we’re gonna kill each other.”

Three hours later, you feel like you’ll never be able to get out of the comfiest bar stool you’ve ever sat on. You’ve never been to Hawksmoor, but Harry swears this place is good even though it’s filled with boring bankers with their ties stuffed in suit pockets (not that Harry’s tie isn’t also stuffed in his suit pocket, but, you know, at least he’s not a banker), so you followed his lead and let him take you here.

The salvaged furniture, low lighting, comfy seating and charming staff make it an easy place to settle into. Sitting beside you is Harry with his neat whiskey, which you realise that he hasn’t finished when you’ve already had three refills of your gin and tonics. Your head is most likely going to fall off tomorrow morning, you just know it.

“Argh,” you groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Right now?” Harry deadpan. “Huge quantities of alcohol.”

“Sod off,” you playfully nudge his shoulder. “By the way, you’ve got more ex-girlfriends lawyers I should know about?”

Harry laughs, his eyes crinkled and shining. “I’ll send you a list.”

“Good,” you mumble against the edge of the glass, before taking another swig of your drink.

“How about you?” Harry is smirking at you, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Any lawyers you’re seeing that I should know?”

You laugh. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Shut up,” Harry looks at you suspiciously, still with a huge shit-eating grin. “You’re telling me you’ve never got involved with anyone at work?”

There’s silence.

“Shit,” Harry remarks. “Who was it?”

You exhale sharply before you answer. “Luke.”

Harry takes a gulp of his drink. “Well, that makes sense.”

“You don’t even know which Luke I was talking about,” you frown. “You could be wrong, you know. There are millions of Lukes.”

“Oh, of course it’s Luke Whiteacre,” he chuckles. “Didn’t go to law school for nothing, did I? But I’ve got to say, it finally makes sense.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you say sternly, starting to realise that you’ve probably made a mistake of telling him. “It was a long time ago anyway.”

“So, how was he?” he’s grinning.

You can’t help but laugh. “Are we having a girl talk right now?”

“No,” he shrugs carelessly. “Just wanna know how he was.”

“You want me to go into details?” you tease, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s glad you’re not as tense as a few hours prior. “Cause I could. What do you wanna know? Stamina? Girth? Technique? I could go on…”

“Ew!”

You’re laughing so hard that you nearly fell off the bar stool if Harry didn’t quickly catch you, and you realise this is the first time your arm brushes against his, and for a second you’ve both stilled, but you ignored it because this doesn’t mean anything. You’re both drunk anyway. “Why did you break up with she-who-must-not-be-named?” you peer at him.

“We had a pregnancy scare,” he says, looking down for a second at his drink before taking another swig.

“Shit,” you gape at him. “Was she-”

“No, she wasn’t,” he shakes his head. “But it made me realise that she’s not the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, let alone actually having children with. So I called it off.”

“Sorry,” you can’t help yourself from chuckling. “But you made the right decision. Don’t have a baby with a snake.”

“Don’t apologise, you’re right,” Harry joins you in laughter. “How about you and Luke? What happened?”

“Work got in the way,” you drain the rest of your drink before motioning for the bartender to get you another one. “I was only an associate back then so I worked so hard to get junior partner. And his company wasn’t as big as it is now so he was working crazy hours too because he was trying to expand it. We saw each other about three times a month for half a year before we called it off.”

“Three times a month?” his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhm,” you hum, mouthing a thank you to the bartender as he hands you another drink. “We were besotted but we just didn’t have time for a relationship.”

“Do you still-”

“What? No,” you laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. The ship has sailed now.”

“Good,” he smiles at you, before hastily corrects himself. “I mean, good for you.”

You take another big gulp of your drink before you push it away. “Alright, playtime’s over,” you smirk at him. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Are you joking?” he gives you a quizzical look. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re drunk.”

“I just need two cups of coffee and a cold shower and I’ll be fine,” you reply as you hop off the bar stool, he quickly reaches his hand out for you to hold. “Let’s go back to my place so I can have a quick shower.”

“Let’s go to mine,” he offers. “Technically Maida Vale is closer from here than Hammersmith.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” you deadpan, your voice a little slurred. “Should’ve bought me dinner first, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’ve bought you lots of dinners,” he retorts.

“No, Styles,” you shake your head, chuckling. “Clifford Chance bought me dinners. Been using the company’s card, haven’t you?”

Harry laughs. “You’ve got me.”

***

In under an hour, you’ve arrived at Harry’s flat, had a cup of coffee, and a cold shower just as you requested. You’ve ditched your work dress and slipped into the clothes that Harry had laid on his bed for you; a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of black shorts, and when you walk into his sitting room, you see him sitting on his plush sofa with some clipped documents in his hand.

Your eyes dart around his flat once again as you plop yourself down on his sofa. He’s got a great taste, you’ve got to admit, because his flat is lush. It’s on the fourth floor of a beautiful, red-brick, Edwardian mansion which Maida Vale is well-known for, and the inside is modern meets classic. The gray panelled walls blend nicely with the elegant patterned wood floor, and the cream curtains really tie the look of his flat altogether. It really is a gorgeous flat, not to mention the white marble en suite and his really neat, sparsely decorated bedroom.

“Alright,” you begin, taking a document into your hand and begin skimming through briefly only to put it back on the coffee table in less than thirty seconds. “I’ve been at it all day, we’ve been at it for a while and it’s getting us nowhere. I think we need to shake down some employees.”

“And that’s all well and good,” he turns to look at you. “But if we don’t know what to ask, we’re not going to get any answers.”

“Yes we will,” you insist. “They don’t know what we don’t know, do they?”

“They don’t know what we don’t know…”

“That’s literally what I just said,” you frown.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m saying according to this report, their accounts are growing by 200% a month.”

“Wait a second,” you remark. “If that’s true then why are they clinging to this deal like it’s their newborn and I’m Herod?”

“Because maybe they’re not really growing by 200% a month,” Harry adds. “Look, March, 5 million new users, but 60% of these card holders don’t even seem to know they have the cards.”

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen in surprise. “The people are real, but the accounts are fake. Harry, this isn’t just shady, this is the type of shit that lands someone in prison. And if Camille knows all this…”

Harry grins. “Wait til the judge sees this.”

“The judge?” you look at him suspiciously. “Why don’t we just leverage them into letting us out?”

“Because, darling, we have the upper hand now,” he says, still grinning. “We can’t give her a chance to get it back.”

“Harry, if Camille has anything to do with this it would ruin her,” you warn him. “I can’t let you do this to someone you once cared about.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about her,” Harry says harshly. “Not anymore. If she doesn’t want to be ruined she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. And she damn sure shouldn’t have fucked with someone I care about.”

“What?”

“You better get some sleep,” he jerks his head towards his bedroom. “We’re going to the court first thing in the morning.”

***

Harry’s bed has got to be one of the comfiest places on earth.

He gave you his bed for the night and opted for the couch, which you bet just as cosy so you didn’t really feel bad. When you wake up, he’s already clad in his white button-up shirt and black trousers, swinging the fridge open to get a freshly squeezed cranberry juice.

“Morning,” he smiles when he notices you as he pours some coffee and juice for both of you. “Have some toast.”

“You know how to treat your guest with a good breakfast, don’t you?” you tease him as you look around the jars on the breakfast nook. There are several kinds of luxury marmalade, strawberry jam with champagne, wild blossom honey and even Belgian chocolate spread. Honestly, who is this man?

“No hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you chuckle. “I mean my head is pounding of course but it’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You want some nurofen?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head and take the cup of coffee from Harry’s hand. “Harry, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “You’re gonna try to change my mind, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you nod as you look through the jars of fancy jams, trying to choose one, before going with just salted butter instead. “I can’t let you do that. She might be a snake but I’m not. We’re not.”

Harry just look at you in silence, and you continue.

“If we do this, then what’s the difference between us and her?” you go on, trying to sound convincing. “We’re better than that. We’re good people, you know.”

“But we’re going to make her pay,” he finally concedes and you smile. “Really make her pay.”

“That I agree,” you nod. “Okay, I’ll just go home quickly to get changed then we’ll meet at the office? Need to pay her a visit don’t we?”

“We can just go together,” Harry suggests. “We’ll stop by your flat then we can go straight to that snake’s office.”

***

“Are you crazy?” Camille flashes an incandescent look at both you and Harry. “I sign that, my client will be on the brink of bankruptcy!”

“So you rather go to prison?” Harry frowns and you try to stifle your giggle. “I mean, it’s your choice, but-”

“Fine!” she says in exasperation. “I’ll sign it. But give me your word this wouldn’t go out of these walls.”

You hand her the file and pen, and as she’s signing it, you can’t resist yourself. “You go near me or my clients again I swear to god you are dead fucking meat.”

Harry can’t help but chuckling, and you both don’t waste another minute in Camille’s office before you head out with smug smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“You’re a badass lawyer,” he compliments you as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Stating the obvious there,” you smirk as you slide into his car and buckle up your seat belt. “But thank you, you’re not a shit lawyer yourself.”

“Since we’re passing compliments, shall we do it over a drink?”

“Drinks, Styles,” you shoot him a savage smile. “And you’re buying. Not Clifford Chance.”

Harry laughs, closing the car’s door. “As you wish.”

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles ff

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angstyaches · 3 years

Text

The Strong One

I accidentally posted a reply to this ask too soon (instead of saving it as a draft as I’d planned) but here is what Mushroom Anon said:

ngl your self indulgent fics are some of your best ones. okay so my request was : a generally stoic and strong character getting sick from emotions? like from a panic attack or anxiety? their s/o is worried because ???? what happened?? turns out they’ve been having a Really Stressful Week TM and proceed to get pampered and loved. For felix and elliot. omg also how about : a little outsider shot of the two of them here pov ryan and nancy. thanks! 🍄

Post Thicker Than Blood Arc (i.e. after Felix comes back from visiting his mother’s nursing home etc.) And dude, I LOVED the Ryan/Nancy POV idea, holy shit. Thank you so much for that addition!!

CW: secrecy, bickering, panic attack, emeto, mention of (past) deaths.

___

“Good morning, darling,” Felix chirped as he entered the kitchen. Elliott was sitting at the marble countertop, one hand propping up his chin while the other tapped away at his laptop keyboard. Felix wasn’t sure what Elliott was working on these days – and he tended to get huffy and defensive when asked – so Felix made a grand gesture of cupping a hand around his eye while walking past. Look, darling, I’m not looking!

“Morning?” Elliott glanced down at his watch, tilting the laptop screen so that it was almost halfway shut, despite Felix making it obvious that he wasn’t looking. “It’s basically the afternoon.”

“Hmm?” Felix took hold of Elliott’s wrist, tilting his head to read the time. “No, it’s still the morning for seven more minutes and twelve more seconds.”

Elliott grunted. “Oh. Well. You got me.”

Felix chewed his lip, his feathers a bit ruffled by Elliott’s tone. He glanced through the kitchen towards the sitting room. “Where is everyone?”

“I think Nan dragged Ryan to the farmer’s market.”

“No!” Felix gasped. “I wanted to go, too.”

“Should’ve woken up earlier then, huh? Maybe joined me on a morning run?”

A grin spread across Felix’s face, his natural response to Elliott’s attempts to mould him into a morning person. It hadn’t happened in the last seven years, so it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

He leaned his head against Elliott’s shoulder, even though his hair was still dripping wet from his shower. “I love it when you nag me. You in the mood for a drop of coffee?”

“No, Fee, I’m fine.” Elliott tugged the laptop screen even lower, as though he thought Felix was trying to peek.

Felix looked up, a bit startled by the solemn tone of Elliott’s voice, and confused by just how protective he was being on his screen. His partner looked down at him, still the taller of the two while sitting on the island stools. His eyes portrayed an uneasy darkness that made Felix frown.

“Is…” Felix’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything alright, darling?”

Elliott blinked. “Yes. Why?”

“I – you just seem…”

One of Elliott’s eyebrows arched.

“… Tense,” Felix grimaced.

“Tense?” Elliott repeated dully. “Well, excuse me. Not all of us had fifteen hours of sleep.”

“Huh. Okay.” Felix pursed his lips and padded unhappily across the white tiles, towards the coffee maker. He felt silly. He could usually handle Elliott’s teasing and such, but something about the way he was acting felt strange. It was like something had shifted between them.

Felix felt his heart sink as he scooped coffee grounds into the machine, his motions slowing.

It had been three weeks since Felix had returned to the Aldridge’s townhouse, after spending a few weeks up north and visiting his mother in her nursing home. Beyond his first few days back, Elliott hadn’t questioned him too much about what had happened up there, so Felix had assumed – hoped – that he’d decided to put it all behind them. But there was a chance he had changed his mind since then, right?

Felix blinked, realising he’d spilled grounds on the glistening white countertop. He barely cared. He turned around. “Elli?”

“What?” Elliott had lifted the laptop screen again, still sitting stiffly as he navigated some screen that Felix wasn’t allowed to see.

“Are – are you still angry with me?” There was a tiny hitch in Felix’s voice, which he couldn’t help. He didn’t want to take Elliott’s mood and make it all about himself, but the thought of Elliott quietly holding onto resentment made Felix’s stomach hurt.

Elliott let out a rasping sigh and slapped the lid of his computer shut. Felix jumped on the spot, watching with wide eyes as Elliott dropped his head into his hands where he sat. Felix was overcome with worry, sure, but for a tenth of a second, all he wanted to do was check that Elliott hadn’t broken his laptop and lost whatever secret project he was working on.

“Darling?” Felix laid down the coffee scoop and wrung his hands. “If – if this is about anything that we talked about, I would want you to tell me.”

“No.” The word was murmured so softly that Felix barely heard it. Elliott let out a shaky, audible breath, his face still hidden in his hands. “No, boo, you – you and I are fine.”

“You – I’m sorry, you keep using that word. Fine…”

“You and I,” Elliott huffed, “are perfect, Fee.”

That should have been reassuring, but Felix still had that sinking sensation in his chest. Elliott’s shoulders rocked forward slightly, like he was trying to curl into a ball where he was seated.

At least this time, Felix didn’t have to hesitate in coming to Elliott’s side. “Elli,” he sighed, sliding his arms around Elliott’s waist, resting his forehead on his back. “Talk to me.”

“I…” Elliott started off shakily, gulping so hard that Felix heard it from where he was positioned behind him. “I-I don’t…”

As he waited for Elliott to find the words, Felix gently moved a hand up and down over his ribs, hoping the contact was soothing and not stifling. Elliott’s chest was rising and falling way too quickly for Felix’s liking. He decided he should probably back off and give his partner space to breathe, but as soon as he started to move, Elliott grabbed one of his hands and tugged it towards his chest again.

“You have something, now, or someone who… who can tie you to your old life.” The words vibrated within his chest and his back as he choked them out.

Felix frowned and lifted his head, looking up at the back of Elliott’s. The taller boy’s dark hair was scooped into a messy bun. The ends were knotted and ratty. It hadn’t been cut in so long. “Darling, I don’t want to be tied to that life. I want to be tied to this life, with you.”

“I know, I know, but it got me thinking about the people I used to know, and how…” Elliott shuddered in Felix’s grip. “How they would all... I knew it was a long shot, but I tried finding some names online, but we – Jesus, most of us didn’t even have full names, we were just trying to survive –”

“Darling,” Felix whispered, at a complete loss for anything more substantial to say.

“I mean –” A dark tremble of laughter broke through Elliott’s voice. He swivelled the stool, stepping down and taking a few steps across the tiles. “It’s pointless to even look for them, right? What are the odds any of my old friends also happened to end up becoming immortal vampires, huh?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Rhetorical question, boo.”

“Sorry.” Felix followed a few steps behind Elliott as he went to the kitchen window. It didn’t even seem like he was looking at anything in particular, but simply exposing his retinas to the light from outside.

“Elli?” Felix said quietly.

Elliott glanced at him, just for a moment. His eyes were dark and wet, his lips trembling as he gradually lost the battle against full-on hyperventilation. He shook his head violently, gaze wandering aimlessly again. “I don’t – I don’t feel right. What’s wr… What’s wrong with me, Fee?”

“Darling, try to slow your breathing.”

Elliott slammed his palms down either side of the kitchen sink, his shoulders buckling forward under the pressure of the gasps and heaves racking his body. “Felix, what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re panicking,” Felix said, shocking himself with how calm he sounded. He closed the last few paces between them, unable to resist being next to Elliott while he was in this state. “I’m right here, alright? I’m going to touch your back, Elli, but – but please, tell me if it’s not okay…”

“Don’t,” Elliott gasped, shaking his head violently. His mouth bobbed open as he lowered his shoulders even further, eyes widening. “G-going to –”

A moment before Elliott started dry heaving, Felix realised what was happening, and obediently took his hand back. As a rule, Elliott detested being touched when he was sick, and Felix had learned to stop fighting that a long, long time ago.

Felix flinched at how violently sick Elliott suddenly was. His head was practically in the sink at one point, his body buckling under the intense convulsions. It was impossible to distinguish between the laboured breathing and the dry heaving, but every sound and every lurch made Felix’s heart twist a little tighter in his chest.

“Darling, I’m sorry,” Felix choked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you had all of this going on inside you.”

Elliott whimpered at that, attempting to lift his head a little higher. “Fee, I just –” He was immediately interrupted by a wet belch, and a clear stream of saliva that he needed to spit away from his lips into the sink. “You just got back, I w-want – wanted things to be normal… for you.”

“Elli,” Felix whined. He couldn’t believe what was happening here. Elliott was trying not to cry as he spoke, and Felix almost lost it too, though he did his best to keep a hold of things. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what Elliott meant by ‘normal’. He meant the normalcy where Felix could be a mess and Elliott was forced to be the strong one.

He watched as Elliott brought his elbows down gently in front of the sink, letting his head drop against them as the nausea finally seemed to past. He trembled and sighed deeply, seemingly in resignation.

Felix cleared his throat softly. “May I touch you?”

A very quiet chuckle emerged from Elliott’s buried face. “You may.”

Felix rested a hand gently on Elliott’s back, introducing the slightest amount of motion so that his fingertips grazed over a small portion of his spine. He lowered his forehead to Elliott’s shoulder again, this time with very little weight behind it. He needed Elliott to know he wasn’t leaning on him, but that he was there for him.

And he was capable of being the strong one sometimes.

___

“You know, there was a time where you would have helped me bring the bags in from the car,” Nancy sulked. Her arms were outstretched and wrapped around half a dozen bags from different vendors which were pressed against her chest.

“It is not my fault that you insist on buying so much,” Ryan said calmly, following her wife to the doorstep with her hands in her pockets. “For example, you did not need to purchase onions from three different stalls.”

“I told you; they’re different varieties!”

Ryan sighed as she opened the front door and stood back to let her wife into the front hallway of the townhouse. “An onion is an onion, love.”

“Felix,” Nancy grumbled, turning as she walked and narrowing her eyes at Ryan. “Felix will back me up. Felix! Felix, sweetheart!” she called towards the stairs.

The response from within the house was a muted sshhh, which sounded much closer than the upstairs bedrooms. Nancy frowned, meeting Ryan’s gaze for a moment as she closed the front door. Ryan made a beeline towards the kitchen and Nancy followed, dragging her feet slightly on the tiles as she struggled with her bags. She paused by the kitchen island to deposit all of them, watching as Ryan rounded the far corner and stared at what was happening on the sofa.

“Oh, sweethearts, what’s happened?” Nancy gasped, rushing over to stand next to Ryan.

Felix was sitting – almost upright – at one end of the sofa, white Elliott curled up next to him, his head resting in the smaller boy’s lap.

“Is… Is he asleep?” Nancy whispered.

Felix nodded silently. His poor eyes were red and a little puffy as he glanced back and forth between his two foster mothers.

“Anything we can do?” Ryan asked in a low voice, slipping her hands into the pockets of her slacks again. Nancy couldn’t help but pout; oh, sure, you’ll ask them if there’s anything they need you to do, but you won’t help me carry a couple of bags into the house.

A weak smile tugged at Felix’s exhausted expression, and he shook his head. His fingers drifted over Elliott’s head, brushing back a thin strand of his dark hair. Nancy once again couldn’t help herself, this time pursing her lips and wondering how long it had been since Elliott had cut his hair.

“Everything’s okay,” Felix murmured softly. “I’ve got him.”

#Swallow the World #vampire sickfic #vampire angst fic #vampire oc #oc sickfic #oc angst fic #stomach ache fic #emeto #emetophilia #emeto sickfic #emeto fic #vampire emeto #panic attack #anxiety mention #hurt and comfort #hurt and comfort fic #StW Elliott #sick Elliott

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