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#but on god we’ll get there this is the year I swear-
aulerean · 4 months
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chialattea · 19 days
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today I dreamt da4 came out and it had a wlw tal vashoth romance option but they’d gone and made her dainty and petite and I was so pissed off I immediately woke up with the biggest migraine I’ve ever suffered
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star-girl69 · 4 months
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Better Than Revenge
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)
a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift
warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.
Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.
Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.
It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.
It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.
You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.
“Do you have something you want to say?”
Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?
She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.
She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.
“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.
The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.
“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”
“Took you this long to pick up on that?”
You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.
“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.
“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”
“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”
“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.
“Oh, Gods. What?”
“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”
She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.
“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”
She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.
“I can do an hour.”
“Oh, really?”
“I have amazing self-control, actually.”
“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.
“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.
She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.
“Really,” she says again.
But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.
It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.
You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.
“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”
“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”
—-
The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.
You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.
You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.
“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”
“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”
Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.
You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”
You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.
You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.
“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”
You risk a small glance.
There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-
You stomach flips.
She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.
“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.
You look pointedly back at Phoebe.
“He’s eh,” you shrug.
“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”
“Is he really staring?” you ask.
“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”
You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.
She bumps your shoulder.
“Any updates with Clarisse?”
You smile, playing with your fingers.
“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”
“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.
“I know, I’m having so much fun.”
You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.
“He’s coming over here.”
“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.
“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”
You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.
“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.
“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.
He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”
He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”
Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.
—-
You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.
“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.
Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.
She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.
“You wore those shorts,” she says.
“For you.”
“Oh, you’re so mean.”
“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”
Clarisse laughs.
“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”
“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.
“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.
You turn to her.
“What did you just say to me?”
“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”
You put your face into her warm neck.
“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.
“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”
You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.
“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”
Her eyes blaze.
“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”
You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.
Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?
“Clar, I-”
She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.
Harry walks around the table, smiling.
“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.
Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.
“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.
She looks at you at the corner of her eye.
You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.
“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?
Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.
“She looked cold,” he says.
She finally realizes what happened.
“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”
His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”
She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.
“Girlfriend,” she hisses.
“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”
She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”
Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.
Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.
“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”
Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.
“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.
She punches him in the face.
“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.
A crowd has formed around you.
Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.
“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.
“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”
“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.
“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-
“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.
Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.
“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.
“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”
It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.
“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”
“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.
“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.
You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.
“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.
After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.
Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.
She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.
She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.
She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.
As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
—-
Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.
“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.
“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.
“The contest. We should have stayed-”
You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”
She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.
“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.
“Also, stop punching people.”
“That’s where I deny you.”
You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.
“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”
She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.
“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”
You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.
She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.
“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.
“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”
“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.
You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.
“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.
“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.
She doesn’t like to admit she lost.
You hover your lips right above hers.
“Say it.”
Her fingers dig into your hips.
“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”
“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.
And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.
“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”
—-
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(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)
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clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces
y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme
@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend
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ssprayberrythings · 4 months
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our little secret | CL16
charles x female!reader / smau fic 
this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice! 
as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private. 
warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !! 
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yourusername posted on their instagram   
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yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked 
life recently ⭐️🫶🌸
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user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years 
user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy 
yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest 
╰ yourusername: i know ! 
user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope 
╰ user17: we can only hope 
yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲
╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 
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who do i give these flowers too 
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fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME 
f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES 
user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded 
landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me 
╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass 
f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: he loves me i swear..😉
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charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 
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pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked 
enjoying the sun whenever i can 
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fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow 
charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away
pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..
╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ? 
╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing 
f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier
╰ liked by f1
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yourusername posted on their instagram   
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me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town 🍸
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yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it 
╰ liked by yourusername 
user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man 
user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes 
yoursister: the hand placement is everything 
╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend 
user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites 
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charles_leclerc posted on instagram 
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charlesleclercfan_, f1, f1fan, landonorris & others liked 
hikes at sunset > 
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charlesleclercfan_: omg charles 
charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped 
f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to 
user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak 
user2: he looks so happy 
yourusername posted on their instagram   
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my two favourite people 🫶
tagged: @yourbestfriend 
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user2: mystery man once again
user14: the way they go on runs together 
yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset 
╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs 
user12: couples that run together, stay together 
╰ liked by yourusername 
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caption: my whole 🌎 
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yourbestfriend posted on their story
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caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername
╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..
╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell
╰ yourusername: will do 😅
charles_leclerc posted on their story
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caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again  
*replies disabled* 
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gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺
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user3: wait where is he going 
user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up
╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together 
yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr 
╰ liked by yourusername 
user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon 
“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles 
“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands 
“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled. 
Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him 
“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you 
“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up 
You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship 
“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished. 
“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him 
“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again 
You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side 
“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him. 
Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again. 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: my happy place 🎨
╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days 
╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love 
╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ? 
╰ yourusername: of course ❤️ 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend 
╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy 
╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂
more replies..
╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details 
╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met 
╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right? 
╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭
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f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked 
feels good to be back 🏎️ 
tagged: @scuderiaferrari 
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scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season ! 
╰ liked by charles_leclerc 
f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON 
f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!
╰ liked by charles_leclerc 
charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED 
charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT 
Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once. 
Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore. 
“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him 
“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation. 
To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of. 
Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim. 
That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art 
“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you
“Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves. 
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caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️
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old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know. 
*comments disabled* 
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more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know 
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user11: OH MY 
f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS 
f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is 
╰ user15: no clue 
user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen 
user22: i need to know everything 
ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked 
Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.
He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side 
“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand 
“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone. 
When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts 
“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home. 
He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call. 
“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying. 
“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him 
“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it” 
Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend. 
A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ‘Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read. 
You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline. 
That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line. 
-
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: he’s back ♥️
╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)
charles_leclerc posted on their story  
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caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍
╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ?? 
╰ carlossainz55: AW
╰ landonorris: soft launch? 
-
yourusername posted on their instagram   
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yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked 
i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore. 
happy 3 years mon amour 😘 
tagged: @charles_leclerc
comments have been limited 
charles_leclerc: i love our love 
charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go 
╰ liked by yourusername 
yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹
╰ liked by yourusername
pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute 
╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram    
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yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked 
hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her 
joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌 
tagged: @yourusername 
comments have been limited
yourusername: i love you 
yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed 
╰ liked by charles_leclerc
f1: we’re happy for you:)
maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW 
maxverstappen1: happy for you dude 
carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !! 
╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc 
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i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️
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probably-writing-x · 9 months
Text
Hotter and Hotter
Summary: hi 👋🏼 I don’t know if you take any request now but I will still ask.. Can you write about the scene of the grocery when Conrad just lean on and take a sip (he was soo f hot ) and make it like more flirty and it can go like you want between Conrad x yn? thanks u ❣️
Warnings: Sexual references (Minors DNI)
Author’s Note: I’m not taking requests atm but this came through and I was inspired so maybe I am taking requests, we’ll never know xoxo
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“This is the hottest it’s ever been I swear to God,” Conrad grumbles from the couch, hand resting on his chest.
“Well you try and fix the air con then, because it’s doing fucking nothing when we try,” Steven shrugs his shoulders, his head resting back against the seats of the couch from where he sat on the floor.
“You’re an engineer Steven, isn’t this like your job?” Belly points out, dragging her hair away from her face.
The air conditioning in the house had been out all morning and the temperature had been slowly rising with the sun. Now, it was stifling hot inside the house and just as bad outside too. And, clearly, the group were at their wit’s end.
“Okay, can we please stop talking about it? Like, can we talk about anything else?” You roll your eyes, your back against the couch where Conrad was laying, your head mere inches from his.
The two of you had been friends for years, ever since Belly and Steven had started coming to the summer house, you had too. The group of you were always inseparable whenever you were all in Cousins. But, before this summer, you and Conrad had realised your feelings for each other. He’d started calling you every night, texting you more and more often, and eventually the two of you spoke to each other more than anyone else. You’d both agreed, however, that is was not worth the drama for the rest of the group to know that anything was going on. You’d kept things completely private and, so far, it worked.
You’d turned up to the summer house this year terrified to see him again, and when you had done, it was like there was a weird tension that you’d never known before. There were sparks whenever he looked at you, electricity coursing through you whenever you briefly touched. You hadn’t even kissed the boy and yet all you could think about was doing so. It was driving you insane.
“Well, what else do you want to talk about, (y/l/n)?” He turns his head so that it is facing you but you keep your gaze averted away, worried he’ll make you blush.
“Anything,” You groan, “Like, seriously, it’s making it worse if all we talk about is how hot we are.”
He smirks, “You think you’re hot, (y/n)?”
You whip your head around to face him and roll your eyes, “Grow up, Con.”
His smirk remains, eyes trailing over your face as the conversation grows behind you. Jere and Belly were agreeing on getting into the pool and Steven was refusing to join them under the premise that he couldn’t find any swimming shorts in his suitcase.
“How about we head to the store?” Conrad suggests, pushing himself up to sit on the couch, “We can get some cold drinks, some ice cream, anything remotely cold.”
The group all sound into chorus of agreement and you nod too.
“Yeah, just get anything they’ve got,” You encourage, watching as he swings his legs over the side of the couch so that he’s sat next to you now, his knee bumping your shoulder.
“Oh, you’re coming with me,” He nudges you, “I need someone to help me push the cart.”
Conrad stretches out a hand to you and waits for you to take it.
“Right because that’s definitely a two person job,” You roll your eyes, taking the grip of his hand and pushing yourself up from the floor.
“Oh, absolutely it is,” Conrad shrugs his shoulders, walking out of the lounge towards the front door, grabbing his car keys on the way.
———
You sit in the passenger seat and he sets his hand behind your chair as he reverses, the air con in his car blasting enough for you to both cool down.
“Why didn’t we think of coming in your car earlier?” You question, glancing out of the window at the changing street beside you.
Conrad turns his head in your direction, “Because then they’d all want to come.”
You nod in agreement and fall silent, fiddling with your hands in your lap.
“So, has anyone said anything about…”
“What? Me and you?” You finish the sentence for him, “Why? Do you think they know?”
Conrad smirks a little, “Jere told me that sometimes you talk in your sleep and he can hear you through his wall.”
You frown just slightly, cogs turning in the expectation of what he was about to say.
“Apparently he heard you call my name,” Conrad fully grins then, turning the car into another corner as he approaches the store.
You feel your face heat up more than the sun was capable of, your heart sinking a little, “I did… I mean he heard… what?”
Conrad chuckles gently and his hand moves from the wheel to squeeze your leg, “Oh come on, (y/l/n), I already knew you were obsessed with me.”
You clench your jaw and look away from him, the embarrassment seeping through you. He squeezes your bare leg again and keeps his hand there as he pulls into a space in the parking lot.
“Okay I’ll get a cart and I’ll meet you at the checkout,” You nod, taking a deep breath to relatively compose yourself as you get out of the car.
Conrad follows behind you, fighting back the smile on his face. He walks up behind you as you go to get a cart, his arms dropping to either side of your hands on the handle, thumbs brushing your pinky fingers.
“See, Ive just got so many questions,” He mumbles the words into your ear as his chin drops to your shoulder.
You feel a tingle go over your spine and quickly step out from underneath his arm, “And I won’t be answering them.”
Conrad persists, of course, pushing the cart into the store and following your every move.
You both take a silent sigh of relief at the feeling of the air con in the store, walking a little slower as if to revel in it for as long as possible.
“Okay, so what was this dream about?” Conrad asks, stopping the cart as you throw in a few items from the produce section.
You make brief eye contact with him in the coldest glare you can muster, “Con, I said we’re not talking about this.”
“I mean, it must’ve been pretty good for you to be calling my name,” He points out nonchalantly, throwing a few bags into the cart, “So, tell me what it was about?”
You spin on your heel and grip the end of the cart, squeezing down on the plastic as you look at him, “Conrad, I don’t remember, okay? Now can we please drop this because you’re being an asshole.”
He raises his hands as if in a gesture of surrender before placing them back on the cart and following you still in your slow steps around the aisles.
Conrad didn’t need to know to boost his ego, or to use it against you. He needed to know because the thought of you thinking of him like that made him feel like a kid with his first crush. He was infatuated, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.
Things were awkward between the two of you now, and neither was willing to break the tension with any form of conversation.
You were embarrassed, of course you were. The chemistry between the pair of you had been sky high since you’d arrived back in Cousins - all of the awaited feelings of seeing each other again had come bubbling to the surface. And yet neither of you could do anything about it. So there it stayed - bubbling wildly on a surface that would not release. Of course you were thinking about him, how could you not be?
“Okay, you get the ice and pay for this, I’ll meet you at the car,” You nod, holding your shoulders a little more sure of themselves.
“Oh, so I’m paying?” Conrad raises his brows, stopping in his tracks with a bag of ice in his hands.
“Your daddy’s credit card will,” You taunt in response, disappearing around the corner of another aisle to leave him to his own devices.
Minutes later, Conrad appears through the sliding doors of the store, the fully loaded cart bumping in the parking lot in front of him. You’re stood by the car, waiting for him, two large drink cups in your hands.
“And what’s this?” He nods his head a little towards the drinks, eyes returning back to yours.
“A peace offering,” You shrug your shoulders, “I’m sorry I got annoyed about you asking about… I just, I was embarrassed and I didn’t want you to think I was some weird stalker that was obsessed with you or something.”
Conrad laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always manages to ease your worry. He steps out from around the cart so that he’s mere inches from you.
“You know,” He lowers his torso down to take a slow sip from the drink, darkened eyes staring up at you as he does, “If you wanted to be screaming my name in the night, you should’ve just asked.”
Your mouth falls agape slightly as all words seem to escape you.
“Come on, I’ll load this up before the ice cream starts melting,” He clears his throat, as if nothing had happened, “Get in the car.”
You oblige and sit in the passenger seat waiting for him as he piles the bags into the trunk, climbing into the driver’s seat shortly after.
He reaches over to take his cup from your hand and his fingers brush yours - still electric as you repeat over the words he’d just said.
“So, home?”
You hum in agreement and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you as he reverses out of the spot, unable to hide the smile tearing at your face.
———
“We’re back!” Conrad calls out as the two of you head inside, arms full of brown paper bags.
“Thank god!” Jere exclaims, grabbing a couple of the bags from you to alleviate the weight, “Successful trip?”
You and Conrad exchange a quiet glance before looking back and both saying at the same time, “Yeah.”
Jeremiah frowns at you and his brother, “You two are weird.”
He helps to unpack the shopping before turning back to both of you.
“Hey, Con, did you ask (y/n) about her dre-“
“Grow up Jere,” Conrad snaps quickly, throwing the last bag of ice into the freezer.
You look at him and smile a little to yourself, averting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.
Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his brother and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you once more.
“Here, they’ve not melted yet,” Conrad pulls an ice pop from one of the boxes and unwraps it, handing it to you.
You set down your drink and take hold of the wooden stick. Now was your chance to get him back. You make sure you’re stood as close as you can get to him, your eyes gazing upwards to focus on his. And you stick out your tongue, drawing it from the bottom to the top of the cold ice, not once breaking eye contact with Conrad as you pop the top in between your lips and suck gently before pulling away.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, and find yourself hiding back a grin at your obvious effect on him.
“What’s wrong Connie?” You ask him through batted eyelashes, “You look all… flustered.”
It’s almost as if you see the second that the cogs turn in his brain as his hands stretch out to grip your waist, both tightening to lift you up and onto the kitchen counter behind you.
And then, without a second thought, his hand grips your face and he pulls you in to kiss him. It’s rushed at first and overly fueled by passion but you don’t care. He can taste the sweetness on your lips and it only seems to encourage him more, kissing you like he’d been waiting to do so for years. His hand tightens once more on your waist, pulling you into him as closely as he can as your hands grip onto his shoulders.
Conrad pulls away then, only breaking contact at your lips to catch his breath as his forehead rests against yours.
“Don’t tease me,” He grumbles quietly, his lips plump in the absence of you.
You chuckle a little, nudging his head a little more, “From what just happened there, maybe I should be teasing you more often.”
Conrad smirks and pulls away, standing up straight as both of his hands settle on either side of you on the counter. He glances behind you at where the large glass doors lead out to the garden, “You know, nobody’s actually in the house.”
You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse, “Yeah, looks like it’s just us.”
He takes the opportunity as you’re turned away to kiss at the exposed skin of your neck, his touch hotter than any weather was capable of.
You let out a quiet moan and grip the back of his head. Damn, he was good at this.
“Connie-“ You hum, pushing into him as closely as you can.
He smirks against you and pulls away, eyes widening slightly at the mark left on your skin from his lips.
“We should probably join the rest,” You comment, dragging your fingers through his hair.
He flutters his eyes closed at the contact and sighs, “Five more minutes.”
Conrad leans in to kiss you again but stops as he hears;
“Conrad! Can you bring the ice pops out?” It’s Stephen yelling to the pair of you.
You look at Conrad and laugh a little, hopping down from the countertop, “Come on, before they suspect anything.”
“I think that mark on your neck will make them suspect enough.”
You bend down to take the ice pop box from the freezer and reach one hand behind your head to untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.
“There we go, it’s like it never happened,” You wiggle your eyebrows and saunter outside towards the garden.
Conrad watches as you go, a smile on his face before his eyes drop to the barely-touched ice pop you’d both discarded onto the counter.
Thank god for hot weather.
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julieloves074 · 10 months
Text
Everything (Conrad Fisher x Y/n)
Summary: Y/n had won the battle against cancer at the age of ten but no one expected it to come back. When the truth comes to light the perfect summer crashes down around them. Especially for Conrad, Y/n is his love, his life, his everything
Warnings: Cancer, sadness, swearing, angst 
Words: 7.4K
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(Not my GIF :))
Summer in Cousins was the one time of year I felt truly free, nothing really mattered there. Then again, everything mattered there. Belly liked to say nothing existed outside of summer, all the other seasons were just a pass by for it, and I couldn’t argue with her.
This was exactly why I wanted one last perfect summer. Mom told me that I wasn’t being fair, that this was going to be worse for everyone but wasn’t I allowed to be selfish? For once? I knew she couldn’t see it the way I did. I wanted Belly to have her first summer of real fun without having to worry about me. I wanted to see Jeremiah and Steven act stupid all summer without feeling like they needed to slow down for me. I wanted to see Conrad to be happy for one more summer, with me.
And everything was going so well, for the most part. Just like any other summer there was drama: Belly with her new friend Cam Cameron and Jeremiah, Steven with Taylor and Shaila but it was our kid problems, nothing more than that until tonight.
“Y/n you are not allowed to go!” My mother shouted as I made my way downstairs at eight o’clock.
“Stop babying me for God’s sake! I’m telling you I feel fine, I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” I screamed back, I just wanted to go to a party with my friends, I knew I had limits now and that I had to be careful. Still, I couldn’t stay locked in forever.
“Y/n you are getting weaker, are you trying to give your father and I a heart attack?” she asked, her voice still raised but there was a falter, it made me turn right around on my heel. There she was, standing on the top step with tears in her eyes. I could feel my own gloss over. I took a deep breath and looked up in an attempt to stop any tears falling, I was only wearing waterproof mascara but still-
“You’re our little girl and we just want to protect you,” Mom said, face flooded now, lowering to sit on the top stair, she was getting more tired now too.
“Mom I’m eighteen, I don’t know if I will make it through chemo this time and I can’t let it make me live in fear. I won’t let it make me hide around my room if this is my last summer,” I said with urgency and plea.
“It’s going to be a long program Y/n, and it’s going to take lots of strength, both physical and emotional but don’t you dare say you are not going to make it. You will beat it. We just don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” Dad’s voice echoed gently as he came out of our kitchen and pulled me into a hug.
“I know-” I paused looking between both of them, my cardigan in one hand and phone in my other, “I’ve signed up for the program and I will fight this cancer again but there’s nothing I can do now but wait around until the first round of chemo begins again, and who knows what I’ll be able to do after it?” I asked, I didn’t know whether I would live, and if I did how long I’d be weak, I didn’t want to miss out on these teenage years.
I felt dad brush his hand down my arm with a sigh, he looked up to mom who shook her head and couldn’t lift her gaze.
“I know, I’m sorry honey, but you know that if anything happens you call us right away, no matt-“ she began, standing up, but I cut her off.
“No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing and there will be no questions asked,” I finished off for her, she smiled weakly and started making her way down to dad and I.
“Or you call for medical help first depending on what’s happening,” she informed me, at this point she’s said this to me so many times that I have the words tattooed inside my brain.
“I love you guys,” I said as they both squeeze me tightly just before a car horn sounds outside.
“Tell Connie we said hi and ask him to tell his mom we’ll bring that extra table for the barbeque party tomorrow when we come over for dinner,” Mom relayed to me as I slipped on my shoes.
“I will do,” I said quickly opening the door to slide out. I saw him first, Conrad Fisher, sat behind the wheel, his contagious smile and beautifully messy hair. Then I saw them, Belly, Jeremiah and Steven sat in the back all looking at Belly’s phone who sat in the middle, they were all laughing. I couldn’t believe the summer was nearly at it’s end and I got to spend it these wonderful, and slightly annoying, people.
“Omg Y/n you have to see this video Tylor filmed! This girl just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend so both she and the best friend chucked milkshakes at him! I’m so glad Taylor filmed this!” Belly exclaimed the second I opened the car door, pushing from up from her seat and shoving the phone in my face, I didn’t even get time to look before she leaned back and sat down muttering “Damn, Harry is not gonna have fun at school this year,”.
We all broke into a laughter, I turned to Connie who had his eyes on me since the moment I got in the car, I started relaying my parent’s message about the chairs and he leant over to kiss me.
“Okay we get it, you guys are in love but we have a party to get to!” Jeremiah exclaimed grabbing on my headrest to lean his body forwards into our space. I let out a laugh pulling away from Conrad.
“I love you,” he mouthed to me, I did the same back before he turned to his focus to the car and reversing in my driveway. The journey to the house party, I didn’t even know who was hosting this one, was filled with laughter and teasing to the point that Belly had actual tears running down her face.
“I am so glad you made me invest into waterproof mascara Y/n!” Belly said running her fingers under her eyes wiping away the tears. I loved having Belly around, another girl was great to have around, her being like a little sister to me. Even though it came with both its ups and downs of siblings like all the clothes she would ‘borrow’ and never give back, but she’s a good kid.
The party is looking well underway when we arrive, there’s flashing, changing lights to be seen through the windows and the music is echoing down the street. Some new trending song is blasting as we walk through the door. Belly quickly runs off to meet some friends she made at the country club, Jere was dragged away by some good looking guy whom he looked more than friendly with leaving me, Connie and Steven to head to the drinks table.
“Are you actually gonna drink with us tonight Y/n/n?” Steven asked leaning a cup in my direction. I really wanted to, I couldn’t express to anyone how much I wanted to fully let loose, drink away my worries for the night. But I couldn’t.
“Nah I’m good,” I tried to play it off cool, but he started play arguing with me.
“Alright let it go Steven,” Con said after a minutes, I lay my hand on his arm in a silent thanks.
“Okay well I’ll leave you loser to it I’ve just spotted Shayla coming in,” he announced already walking backwards to the beautiful girl.
“Are you alright?” Con’s voice pulled me away from the vision of Steven wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he had whispered something in her ear which made her erupt into this blooming, true laugh, they made each other so happy.
“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, pulling on a big smile, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I felt fine, more than fine standing here with him right next to me.
“It’s just you’ve not been wanting to drink, and not to pin you as an alcoholic or anything,” he defends quickly, “But you’re usually first to call shots,” he laughs pulling me closer as some guys come to the drinks table, it still swells my heart, his little tics of jealously and protection.
“I told you, it’s been really bad for my skin recently and I am not sacrificing this,” I reassured pointing to my face, “Plus it’s kind of funny being sober and watching everyone else make fools of themselves,”
“Can’t argue that,” he says, we settle into a comfortable silence, Con wasn’t drinking tonight he was nominated DD, so the two of us had to entertain ourselves sober. We weren’t standing around for too long when Getaway Car by Taylor Swift came on and I dragged him to the little makeshift dance floor in the living room.
We sang to each other as he led our little dance twirling me around every once in a while. Loads of the girls including Belly joined us screaming along to the bridge.
“God you’re perfect you know that? I think I’ll be crazy about you forever,” Con half shouted over the last chorus and I just shook him off with a gentle shove
“I love you,” I said pulling him into a massive hug. The second the song ended we noticed Jere and Steven stood in the doorway calling Con over, some kid was doing flip tricks on the trampoline and in their words ‘It was so sick! He’ll probably actually be sick if he doesn’t take a break!’
Connie was hesitant to leave me for a second, but I pushed him to the boys, they deserved his time as much as I did. I turned to the girls, and we danced to whatever song came on next, and the next and the next. By the fourth or fifth song I started to feel lightheaded.
“I’m just gonna find a bathroom real quick,” I shouted over to Belly tapping her shoulder, someone had turned the music up. She nodded and gave me a thumbs up before tipping the rest of her vodka lemonade in her mouth.
The bathroom downstairs had too long of a cue so I headed for the stairs in the entryway. Was someone turning up the music again or was it just the sound echoing in my head? I held onto the railing, but my legs were starting to feel heavier with each step. I had just managed to reach the landing, I wasn’t sure which door led to the bathroom, so I ambled to the closest door, it was a bedroom. A double bed in the center surrounded by deep blue wallpaper. It felt as though I was in the ocean somewhere, drifting away.
The bed frame was not giving me much support, I lowered myself to the ground, there was a small thud as I hid the wooden panels. I don’t think I let out a sound but before I knew it someone was rushing into the room.
“Y/n what’s going on?” the voice asked, I looked up but my sight was hazy, “Y/n?” the voice repeated, it was Steven taking a few careful steps towards me.
“It’s nothing, I’m fine just a little tired, I think I overheated a little downstairs I should have been drinking more water,” I said attempting to shoo him away with my hands, but in reality, I didn’t want him to leave, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get up without him.
“Y/n you’ve been off all summer so cut the bullshit, since when do we lie to each other?” he asked coming closer, his honestly sounded sober.
“My,” I start and feel something bubbling within me, I cried for an hour when I was diagnosed again, then I told myself I wasn’t allowed to again until after summer, I was allowed to be happy and excited for the summer without thinking about- “My cancers back Steven, and I-”
“I’m sorry you what?” Steven asked cutting me off, as if an animated character his jaw actually dropped, he was kneeling next to me in seconds, pulling me into a hug. I shut my eyes wishing that I had left earlier or taken a night off and rested like mom had suggested, “Conrad! Get in here,” Steven shouted repeatedly brushing a hand through my hair.
“What? Y/n? What happened? Steven what happened?” Conrad asked manically flinging himself to meet his body to mine, “Are you okay?” He asked again as he got no answer to his first lot of questions. He brushed his hand down my arm.
“I’m so sorry,” I let out with a sob, shaking my head from side to side, I saw Belly run in confused with Jeremiah behind her. Others seemed to be crowding at the door but Jere quickly shut it firmly, announcing “Nothing to see here! Go grab some alcohol and make out or whatever,” before turning his attention back to me.
Now this was truly my worst nightmare, they were all looking at me, apart from Steven who had curled up and looked at the floor next to me.
“I’m sorry that I ruined our last summer together,” I said
“Y/n what are you talking about, what happened?” Belly asked brushing some hair out of my face.
“It’s back and I- I don’t think it’ll go away this time,” I whisper as if saying it out loud would mean that it was true, that I was hurting everyone around me once again.
“What’s back?” Jere asks nonchalantly at first before a realization hits him “You don’t mean-” at this Belly burst into a wail.
I looked up at Conrad, he was just staring at me, I couldn’t read his reaction at all. I brushed my hands up and down his arms, it was as if he was frozen it time. I needed him to say something, just that action was wearing me out.
“Come on let’s get you home,” Jere said, his eyes red, he was trying to be a voice of reason, be the one who doesn’t break down so he can support the rest of us. When had he become this grown up? “This isn’t a place for a conversation like this,”.
I can’t quite place what emotion was flowing through me as I was basically carried out of the house with one arm around Con the other around Steven. The whole thing seemed in slow motion to me, all the faces in the crowd of my friends and drunk strangers. How many of them realize what’s actually happening and how many of them simply thought I’d gotten hysterically drunk?
The ride back to my house was quiet other than Belly’s phone call to my mom and then Susannah and Laurel letting them know where they were all going. I was ushered into bed by mom and listened to the heartbroken whispers downstairs in the living room under my bedroom.
Mom and Belly were crying, and dad was trying to calm them down. Conrad was adamant to stay with me whilst dad offered to drive everyone else home as they’d all been drinking. When the front door shut, I heard the footsteps that shuffled upstairs.
“Connie,” I said as he walked into my room, his expression filled with sorrow and with the limited lighting of my bedside lamp I could swear he too had tears rolling from his eyes and down his beautiful face.
“You’re okay, you’re going to get better,” he said repeating in quiet whispers, whether he was trying to convince me or himself I was not sure but I let him. I pulled up my duvet and moved slightly to give him space.
He touched my hair, my face, my arms gliding his fingers as if I was made of porcelain. The first time I was diagnosed and fighting cancer I was 10 and whilst everyone was gentle with me then now it felt like a different kind of touch. A mixture of so much love and pain that I would do- give anything to make him better.
“I love you, so so much,” I whispered, pulling one of his arms around me, I wanted to feel him, all of him here in this house, our summer place. I was surprised he hadn’t run, when Con got overwhelmed he always ran, hiding was his protection. If I did anything in my life, helping Connie learn a better way to cope, or to start to was the best thing that I did.
“Don’t say it like that,” he whispered back, his eyes were closed tight shut.
“Like what?” I asked cautiously, somehow, I knew what he was going to say, I brushed my fingers through his soft hair, his pre-summer haircut was always my favorite. It wasn’t too long, not too short, just enough to outline his face and perfectly highlight his eyes.
“Like it’s one of the last times you’ll ever say it,” his voice cracked and I kept running my fingers through his locks, soothing him. It’s funny how I’m the one who this has happened to yet I’m the one who’s been reassuring everyone that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was because I’d lived enough to know what the purest of happiness was and that I’d experienced honest love even though some never do.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I kept repeating as if I was counting stars up in the sky or the little sheep jumping over the fence in hopes of falling asleep. I’d said it so much my mouth had started running dry but if that was the price for having this boy, this kind, loving boy in my arms until my end I’d pay it over and over and more.
Unfortunately, the underlying sour mood was carried into the next morning, when I woke up to the glimpse of summer that danced in through the half open curtain Conrad was still asleep. He usually looked peaceful when he slept but this morning even in his most fragile states his brows were creased and his breathing was heavy and uneven. I watched him, when we get back to Boston nothing will ever be the same, and we only have a week left here in Cousins.
I untangled from his arms. I tended to have more strength in the morning but today I gripped onto the white wooden rail as I ambled downstairs and into the kitchen. Walking past the living room I noticed figures asleep on the couch. I smiled to myself when I saw Jeremiah and the Conklin siblings, they never left last night.
The clock hit seven when I walked into the kitchen, mom sat there with her kindle in hand, cup of coffee in front of her, but she stared unfocused at the device The lines under her eyes were darker than last night, she looked exhausted. Dad was at the kitchen counter prepping some eggs, bacon and sausages, the good old English Breakfast. He too looked as though he hadn’t slept.
“Morning sweetheart,” mom said looking up, her whole expression changed from worry to love, and though she tried to hide it the worry was still there, rooted deeply in her skin. I took a step towards her and she rushed out of her chair to grab me into a tight embrace.
A thousand things I wanted to say sat there pooling in my head because I simply couldn’t get them out.
“Your dad went out last night to get some more breakfast supplies, we’re feeding some unexpected- but most welcome mouths this morning,” she conveyed and I just nodded, my head resting in her neck, “I’ve called Princeton this morning and explained the situation, they said depending on how long the treatment is going to take they may move your enrollment to next year just so you don’t fall too far behind,” mom explained and I watched my dad’s feet shuffle towards us. College was the last thing on my mind, everyone here was.
“We also called the hospital and they’ve decided to start your sessions earlier,” dad said, this forced me to pull back.
“What do you mean?” I asked frantically, “We’ve had the date set for the day after we get back! How can I start my treatment earlier if we’ll still be here?” I questioned.
“We’ll be heading back to Boston tomorrow Y/n” mom conveyed, I took another step back. No! I needed this last week here with these people.
“But we agreed-” I tried to reason, to argue.
“I know sweetheart, but your health is more important to us, the doctors were already weary of letting you have the whole summer here anyway,” dad leaned against the kitchen counter with one hand and the other travelled to his forehead, an attempt to brush the physical signs of fear and worry away.
“We’re your parents Y/n, we just want what’s best,” mom reassured, and I knew they were right, they usually tended to be but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.
“The moms have organized a day full of fun and the celebratory barbeque dinner tonight,” Belly, who was now leaning against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, said.
“We’re all leaving tomorrow Y/n, we’re going to be there with you every step of the way,” Jeremiah said, his stunning ocean eyes expressing the purest admiration, his one hand was around Belly’s waist. A side of my mouth twisted up in a sly smile. I had predicted this years ago, Con owed me fifty bucks now.  
“Oh my- come here the both of you right now,” I demanded, I took a few steps towards them but they did most of the work.
“I want in too!” Steven, voice all groggy and half asleep, demanded as he jogged towards us. We stood there hugging for longer than we ever have, it was nice and warm.
We all sat around the table playing a round of uno as dad started to make breakfast, mom offered to help to give us the space, she knew we got far too competitive when it came to this game.
I had two cards left, the least out of all when Jeremiah spoke up from next to me, “Connie isn’t taking it well, he went outside at around three in the morning and he just sobbed, I thought you needed to know” his eyes with sympathetic and glossed over.
“I just don’t want him to shut everyone out now,” I said knowing that the boy had a thing for bottling up his emotions until they finally explode. He stayed last night but who knew which was his mood would sway today.
“He’s going to be around, he’ll be here for you, we all will,” Jeremiah reassured.
The day went by faster than anyone wanted, Conrad came down perfectly in time for breakfast, he pulled a chair to sit next to me. Just like his usual self he wanted to be near me, touching me at all times, whether it was his shoulder brushing mine, a hand on thigh or his head on my shoulder. After breakfast we when back to Susannah’s house and sat on their private stretch of beach. Then we competed in a murder mystery game that us kids created when we were twelve. It was actually pretty intriguing even for the moms and dad.
“I can’t believe you kept stored away for six years mom,” Jere said to which Susannah replied with a knowing motherly smile and pulled another clue card.
Then we went to the pier, had ice cream and I absolutely crushed everyone at the arcade games winning most of the challenges, the great showdown occurred yet again even though Laurel banned it all those years ago. Then we headed back for dinner at the beach house, Jere and Steven operated the grill, we all sat around talking and I managed enough energy to play a quick round of water polo in the newly upgraded heated pool.
Through the whole day Conrad was never more than a few feet away from me. He managed to upkeep a smile most of the time, but when he thought I couldn’t see it faltered. I always knew he was a good one.
At around eleven mom and dad headed back home whilst the rest of us cuddled up on the couches to watch some romcom on Netflix. About halfway through Belly decided she wanted popcorn, so we took a pause and Susannah said she wanted to brush my hair. She loved doing both mine and Belly’s hair, we were her honorary daughters so of course I let her. One of the many things I love about her is that no matter the weather, or what was going on she was a ray of sunshine. I don’t mean that she was always happy, but she always held out hope and guided everyone to the other side of any storm cloud.
After the movie had finished and we got a good hour into the titanic most of us were dozing off, Susannah started shooing everyone off to bed. She too went upstairs leaving Conrad and I sat on the sofa. I looked at him as soon as the whole floor was clear. My eyes asked the quiet question, begged the questions.
“Are you sure? Do you feel like you have enough strength?” he asked, and I smiled, my brain scanned through images of this boy as we grew up, side by side and through all of it he stayed true just like his mom.
“What have we been doing for the past four hours if not sitting and laying around?” I asked lifting my brows in a giggle.
He shook his head slightly and half a smirk managed to make it onto his face, “It’s been a long busy day, that’s all I’m saying,” he defended himself.
“I know, but I’m fine I promise, let’s go!” I encouraged lifting from the couch and pulling him up by his arm. It didn’t take much convincing, when he stood, he gave me a long, slow kiss before resting his arm around my shoulder. We fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.
We walked down the sandy path towards their private part of the beach, nudging each other and giggling just like the night Conrad first kissed me, just like the night he had asked me to be his girlfriend. Most, if not all our important milestones happened here at the beach house.
“Do you know what?” He asked breaking the silence, even just the sound of his voice was enough to press my body and mind into total peace but also force my heart to beat at an ungodly speed, still after being together for two and a half years.
“What?”
“One day, the day we get married, I’ll scoop you up like this,” he pauses turning to me, I look at him confused for a second as he coddles me in his arms like a princess, I let out a giggle, “and I’ll carry you into this house,” he pointed to the summer house, “then I’ll carry you out back and all the way to the beach and kiss you until the sun goes down and the moon hangs up high in the sky like tonight and never let you go,” he whispered into my ear as we neared the beach.
“Connie,” I began but he shushed me
“I know, I know you don’t like planning that far ahead, but this is non-negotiable, you said we’re allowed one non-negotiable each. You have yours and I have mine,” he said in a manner of fact way, I just laughed and leaned up to kiss him.
“You do know, I know that was all a ruse so that I didn’t have to walk,” I said and he just smiled, “You’re amazing and I love you but please put me down,” I asked, not because I didn’t love to be treated like a princess but because I felt good and I wanted to experience this with him in the way it’s always meant to be.
When we got onto the open part of the beach it was much windier, Con took off his coat leaving him in his jumper and wrapped it around my arms. We listened to the song of the water and watched the waves.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he announced into the night, he’s sat half leaning on his legs.
“Why’s that?” I asked, there were so many things both of us had to be thankful for.
“That I met you, that I have you, that you chose me and let me hold and love you, I think I’m the luckiest man on the planet,” he says, his gaze drifting to the stars above us. Not a single cloud in the sky tonight.
“Do you know what I think is lucky?” I asked laying my head on his shoulder, my eyes getting tired now.
He finally turns to me and smiles, “What?”
“That we both live in Boston,” I said and he shook his head, clearly not what he was expecting. But it was true, our grandparents met at the Cousin’s country club years ago, our grandmothers were friends which then meant our moms were friends, they went to collage together, it was both of their dreams to live in Boston so they moved out there together not expecting to both live in that city for so long but I was so thankful they did because that meant that I got the Fisher boys and Susannah all year round.
It was around the time that we could see the first shades of yellow and orange of the sun that we decided to head back, his sheets were cold but his arms around me were more than enough to keep me warm in the breezy summer night.
The next day mom and dad came round for breakfast, it was a feast ranging from cereal and toast to pancakes with fresh fruits and muffins which Jere and Belly had gone for a morning run for. Just as fast as the breakfast had disappeared, we were all packing up and getting ready to leave.
As I watched the scenery leaving Cousins, I felt guilty that everyone was cutting their trip short, no matter how much they tried to reassure me that it was okay and that they didn’t mind. Still Laurel, Belly and Steven had agreed to say in Susannah’s house in Boston for the week which meant we still got to have that time together before everything went back into motion in September.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*
It was a week after the Conklin’s left that I was told I would be better off shaving off my hair now with it being earlier in the process in order to avoid more emotional highs later on which could affect the medication.
I’d agreed on the terms that Susannah would be the one to do it, together we supported and acted for a hair donation charity which turned hair into wigs for children with cancer, so that’s exactly where my hair was headed.
It was a Friday night, which is always Pizza night, whether ordered in or homemade, one week at our house one week at the Fisher’s. It was that night that I was going to shave all the hair off, the thought wasn’t as scary as I remember it being from the first time around, but I would miss it.
I sit with a towel around my shoulders looking at myself in the mirror of the master bathroom, the boys were both sat in there with my mom, Belly was facetiming us and Susannah stood behind me with the scissors, this was harder for her than for me.
Mom held my hand and dad stood in the doorway with a tight smile. Susannah had braided my hair into two braids and after a nervous laughter and whispering ‘I love you’ she cut the first one, the snip of the scissors was loud in my ears as she worked through the thick of one braid. A breath escaped my lips and quickly enough we were on the second braid. Now Conrad held onto my other hand, the corners of his eyes creasing. And then the other was gone too.
In a way it felt like a weight was lifted off me, I mean it literally had been, my head felt lighter, and I was left with uneven scraps all over my head.
“Hey I dig the short hair!” Jeremiah says hand extended to fist bump me, I  felt obliged saying, “Now we know I could steal your hairstyle and still be cooler than you,” I remarked and he pulled a smirk.
“Listen up Y/n/n at least my cut isn’t so uneven,” he laughs
“Well, mine’s about to be more smooth than yours, what you gonna do?” I play intimidated as mom placed my braids into the zip lock bag ready to be posted.
“Some little girl or boy is going to be really happy when they receive that hair you know that Y/n” Susannah said squeezing my shoulders after plugging in the razor. This time I closed my eyes and squeezed Connie’s hand tighter.
When half my head was done, I felt a bit of a breeze but I didn’t want to open my eyes yet, I’ve said many times that hair wasn’t a determining factor in my life but at the end of the day it was a part of me.
“All done,” Susannah said and I could hear a fragile smile in her words, I nodded with my own smile.
Then after a second the sound of the razor when off again and my eyes shot open, before I could stop it I saw Connie’s soft, brown hair falling from his head. He has run a strip right in the middle of his hair.
I leaped out of the stool. But it was too fast, everything around me started spinning slightly and my knees had gone weak. I grabbed the counter in front of me and both mom and Jeremiah leaned forward for support.
“I’m okay,” I say after a second, I closed my eyes and steadied myself, what was actually a matter of a minute felt like hours, but then I was stood again with another reminder: slow.
“Connie what were you thinking?” I asked incredulously and he was just shaking his head smiling, a glimpse of tears in his eyes.
“I’m in this with you, I told you I would be here every step of the way and I will,” he stood right in front of me, his deep blue eyes staring right into my soul, how had I been so lucky to have been granted the love of this boy and everyone else in this room. I pulled him into a tight embrace, retaining his warmth, his touch.
Jere jerked taking the turned off razor out of his brother’s hand and worked it through his own hair. This time everyone gasped, Jeremiah loved his hair.
“Never have I ever thought I’d see that happen. Jere, you obsess over your hair, you love it!” Belly expressed through the phone, now Steven was leaning over her shoulder.
“Yo- you lot are brave!” he exclaimed with laughter; this was how he processed grief. He made jokes and laughed because otherwise it was much too bare, I didn’t blame him, in fact I found it comforting.
“I love my hair but you mean much more Y/n” Jere announced turning back to me and I couldn’t help but let the tears roll down my face now, pulling Jere to join the hug. He will be exactly the one for Belly, he’ll treat her well. I was sure of it.
Now it was my turn to sit on the edge of the tub, Susannah’s arm around me as we watched both her boys get their heads shaved by my mom.
“Well now we’re all gonna look like weirdos every time we leave the house,” I laughed looking at dad.
“And we’re gonna look like some cult parents who forced their kids to shave their heads,” he added back laughing
“I mean we could shave yours too David,” Susannah added, “Then we’ll confuse the narrative,”
“Only if your hair is next,” he challenged and I squeezed Suze’s hand, I would never let anyone come near her beautiful, golden hair.
“I think we’ve shaved enough heads for one day,” mom announces pulling the razor momentarily from Jere’s head, “Remember we have that dinner reservation in like two hours and I’d like to get changed from these sweats and t-shirt,” she goes back to Jere’s hair but before she’s able to make any progress she turns back around again, “Actually that’s a lie I could live in this outfit for the rest of my life I’m just not sure the people at the restaurant would appreciate it,” she says and every in the room laughs.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*
The hospital room I’d been in for the past week and a half has become a familiar sight, considering that I’ve only left it to go to other similar looking rooms in the hospital. I look at the clock, its five in the afternoon, I must have fallen asleep again. The November chill was visible outside by the frost on the other side of the glass.
On the other side of the room behind the wall I hear mom talking to someone, dad has gone to work for the day, they’ve started switching days, so I can only guess it’s Susannah or the boys.
“It’s been getting worse,” her voice quivers and a part of me wishes I could mute her out, still be asleep. I know the truth, a part of me has known it since I found out the cancer came back those couple of weeks before we departed for Cousins that summer, I wasn’t going to get better.
“There must be something they can do,” another voice said, this time my body hauled me up a little. Conrad. I’ve been letting him visit me, he wanted to be here all the time but I asked Susannah to pace him. He was here this morning. It was meant to be one visit a day.
I know that makes me sound horrible, and it makes my own heart shatter piece by piece but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him or because I didn’t want him to be here. I knew there would be a time where he would have to move on, life would continue and he has such a bright future ahead of him, so many people to meet and experiences to be had. In my head if the distancing started now maybe it would be easier for him, even still the image of him with any other girl made me feel sick.
“Is she awake?” Is what I hear when I break out of thought.
“She wasn’t when I left to get changed and grab some food, but it’s been a couple of hours so she should be waking up soon if you want to go in,” mom said and I silently battled with the thought of pretending to still be asleep.
Before I had the time to make the choice the door was opening and then Conrad’s and my eyes met and he was coming to sit next to my bed, quickly pulling his hand into mine.
He bought a bag of games with him, we started with some card games, then snake and ladders, then four in a row and so on for a couple of hours. I was glad he came for the second time today.
“What?” He asked, I was staring at him but it wasn’t like he wasn’t staring back
“No nothing, just wondering how I managed to score such a hot boyfriend,” I say fanning myself with one hand, “And he’s a teddybear and sweetheart.” I added and watched him cringe at my words.
“I’m the one who should be asking how I managed to get a girlfriend as stunning and kindhearted as you,” he said but I just rolled my eyes. As much as we did this over the top thing as a joke we both knew we meant the words.
We talked and talked that night, he held my hand through it all. I didn’t realize how late it was but mom had come to sit in the corner of the room, she’d been having trouble sleeping recently but she’d managed to snooze off.
“I love you so much Connie, I’m thankful for you everyday, never ever change,” I whispered holding back a sob, he was half asleep on his chair next to my bed too.
“I love you too,” he said leaning up to kiss me gently. Then Connie and I whispered to each other until I too was fading away into sleep.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*
Conrad’s POV:
I never thought I’d be stood here, looking at all these people and her picture in front of a casket. I took that photo the day I asked her to be my girlfriend on Cousins beach, all her teeth were shining pearly white and her hair was blowing in the wind framing her face like a masterpiece statue or a goddess.
“I think you all know that Y/n meant more to me than anything and anyone in my life, alongside my family. We grew up with each other. We were there for each other in the good and bad times even before we were together romantically. She is- was- one of the most integral pieces of the puzzle of our lives. I think I can speak on behalf of our families,” I pause, tears rolling down my face, and a sob building up in my throat, “I don’t know how I will be able to go day by day without seeing her, hearing her voice and her passion. She inspired me more than anyone and I will love her until the day I die and even further into whatever comes after death, I will do everything in my power to make sure all her goals for the many charities and organizations are complete, I will build a new charity in her name, I will make sure she gets the remembrance she deserves, because- because more than anyone I know she deserved all happiness and love. She will be missed more than I could ever have the words to express” I finished and turned to the casket, “Please don’t leave me, come back to me,” I whispered.
There was more I wanted to say, I could speak about her for days and nights on end, about how wonderful and bubbly and kind she was and yet I couldn’t. These faces in the crowd, some knew her better than others but no one like our little families, Belly, Jere and Steven were all sat next to each other crying. Mom was holding her arms around Y/n’s mom and dad as they stared at me, thankful for my words.  
I broke into tears too, leaning onto the stand in front of me for support. Mom rushed towards me now, holding me close and helping me down to the seats. There I sat numb, tears flowing as the pastor finished the ceremony after which we all filed out and watched her get lowered into her grave. It read ‘Y/n L/n. Daughter, friend, love. An inspiration to all’
I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I was holding her hand the night she passed. Two weeks since I’ve lost my everything.
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steveslevis · 29 days
Text
‘tis the damn season
AUTUMN
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chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)
w/c: 5.3k
The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months. 
There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?
The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind. 
The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room. 
“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”
You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous. 
“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”
—————————
The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.
You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least. 
Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.
So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance. 
You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.
“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—” 
You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation. 
“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“
“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.
“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.
“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.
The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.
You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.
“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.
“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 
His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.
“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“
“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” 
The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be. 
“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”
Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal. 
A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it. 
Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it. 
You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first. 
Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.
“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.” 
You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.
—————————
It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye. 
You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand. 
It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.
“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.
“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.  
You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.
Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.
“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s. 
“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers. 
There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes. 
“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside. 
Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say. 
He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”
Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him. 
“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet. 
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff. 
It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads. 
The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.
Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still. 
“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.
“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”
You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.
“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you. 
“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. 
“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.
“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.
You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface. 
Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well. 
—————————
You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be. 
This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were. 
Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again. 
Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon. 
There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open. 
Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”
You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do. 
Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.
A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.
You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever. 
Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for. 
He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.
A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.
“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”
You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months. 
“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”
You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.
“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”
You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college. 
You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.
Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously. 
His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper. 
His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon. 
He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.
“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”
“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.
“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.
“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.
You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could. 
Nobody did it like he could.
This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.
“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.
“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.
—————————
The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound. 
Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own. 
“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor. 
“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.
“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”
“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”
“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping. 
A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.
You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet. 
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.
“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”
“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”
If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs. 
You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down. 
“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
—————————
After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave. 
The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours. 
Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point. 
The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.
You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.
It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.
---------
tags: @carinacassiopeiae
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bucketsofmonsters · 8 months
Text
Without Expectation
You know how everyone is talking about how Astarion has a difficult relationship with hero characters bc he felt abandoned by them when he was suffering? What if, during his 200 years of imprisonment, he’d met one? Very much inspired by this post
cw: pre-game astarion, Cazador, prostitution and non-consensual sex alluded to but never shown, healing from trauma, Astarion being sexualized, Astarion sexualizing himself, objectification, blood drinking, he’s kind of sexually aggressive in this but it's just because he’s scared and he doesn’t know anything else, reader is from a group of monster hunters that I made up who have been harassing Cazador, they are separate from any in-game monster hunters who are less Astarion friendly
Astarion x gn reader
Word count: 6k
He was charming. Pretty words, perfect hair, a dashing smile, and hollow eyes. 
The second Cazador had said the word, he was all over you. 
You couldn’t turn down the offer. Not for the promise of pleasure, that was the last thing on your mind looking at him. 
But if you got him alone you could talk to him, outside of the watchful eye of his master. 
He had you pinned to the wall of your bedroom before you could even say a word. You had to shove him back and he stumbled, a frightened, hurt look crossing his face before the practiced charm slipped easily back. 
“Oh, you like to play rough, do you? That’s fine with me, I don’t mind being pushed around a little.”
“Stop,” you pleaded with him. “Please, can I just speak for a second?”
“Say whatever you’d like, darling.”
“Listen… Astarion, wasn’t it?”
He smirked at you. “It is, but you can call me whatever you'd like.”
“Astarion, you don’t have to do this.”
“Of course I don’t. I want to. Don’t you want me?” He moved to get into your space again but you stepped back and he didn’t follow. 
You did your best to push past his flirtation. “How often does he make you do things like this?”
“Like this? Not often. My lovers don’t typically live to see the morning. Although I suppose it doesn’t make much difference to me,” he said with a laugh, one that felt practiced and put on. 
“Oh.” You couldn’t imagine it, being forced to not only be with so many people but to send them off to their deaths night after night. 
Your eyes drifted down as your thoughts spiraled and he grabbed your chin, pulling your face up so your eyes met once more, directing all your attention back to him. “Is that what’s bothering you, darling? I promise Cazador has given me very clear instructions on how well you should be treated.”
“No, that’s not the problem.” You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to figure out what to do. “God, this is such a nightmare. Listen, I can sleep on the couch, you should take the bed,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the loveseat tucked in the corner of the room.
“Come now, that’s not necessary my dear,” he practically purred at you. 
You felt a little more nauseous with every pass he made at you. “You really don’t have to do that, I swear. Not in here at least. It would probably be prudent to pretend in front of Cazador but that’s an issue for tomorrow.”
“Even if you don’t want sex,” he said with a little roll of his eyes. “The couch is not necessary. I promise I won’t bite.”
It was a bad idea. You knew that much. But the bed looked so soft and comfortable and the couch wasn’t even long enough to fit all of you if you tried to lie down. 
You sat on the bed tentatively and sunk into the mattress. It was by far the most comfortable bed you’d ever been in and you ran your hand along the silky sheets. “Alright, but we’ll just be sleeping,” you said with a pointed look in his direction. 
In a heartbeat, you were pushed back onto the mattress and he was looking over you, his hands on either side of your head as he grinned down at you. “Are you certain, my dear? I could make you feel so good.”
“I’m sure you could,” you said with a smile, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes lit up at the contact and it was clear that he thought he’d done it, that he'd won you over. “But that won’t be necessary.”
You leaned up and pressed a kiss into his forehead before gently pushing him off of you back towards his side of the bed. 
He seemed wounded and frightened by the gesture, a far cry from the practiced seduction you’ve seen from him so far. “You don’t want me.”
“I assure you that is not the problem,” you said, careful to keep your voice gentle. 
He did not seem convinced, a tragic vulnerability starting to seep through his facade.
As he stared at you, a worried look plastered across his face, you grabbed some of the many pillows from the top of the bed, placing a few between the two of you. 
He scoffed at the sight. “I don’t know what those are meant to stop. Not exactly impenetrable security against a rabid vampire.”
“They’re not for you. I have a tendency to get… grabby, in my sleep.”
He huffed, folding his arms as he finally conceded ground and laid down next to you. “Good. Maybe you’ll be more interesting than when you are awake.”
You doubted he’d find you snuggling a pillow particularly interesting but you let him interpret your words however he pleased. 
“Perhaps. Now if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to sleep now.”
“It’s not all the same to me, thank you very much.”
“Alright,” you said with a yawn. “Goodnight.”
You woke up with your arms wrapped around a pillow from your little wall, holding it close to your chest as you eased your eyes open to see Astarion unabashedly staring at you. 
He spoke as soon as he caught wind you were awake. “You weren’t kidding about being grabby, you’re practically smothering the poor thing.”
Your face warmed slightly at his words, embarrassment fluttering in your chest. “It’s an old habit. What about you, couldn’t sleep?”
“Elves don’t sleep.”
You suddenly felt incredibly foolish. “Oh. Right. So you’ve just been sitting there all night then?”
“I tranced for a while. It was certainly a more boring night than I expected.”
You yawned as you sat up, setting the pillow you’d been holding behind you. “Terribly sorry to disappoint. Hopefully, there will be many more boring nights in your future.”
He pulled back, cocking his head to the side. “What?”
You realized you hadn’t told him of your little scheme yet. “I was thinking. This whole meeting with Cazador was more of a formality than anything. He’s killed too many of our people, we need to make this deal, at least until we can figure out how to sort him out for good. But he doesn’t know that and maybe, if you’re amiable to it, I could throw in a final term to the deal. Where he has to give me… well, you. Not that you should be his to give, but I figure if I can save someone from this place and I didn’t, what kind of a monster would I be?”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you want from me?”
You shrugged. “I’d say nothing if I thought you’d believe me. If you need to rationalize it, let’s just say it’s an ego boost. Now I get to feel like a good person and you get to leave this place. As long as I don’t mess it up too badly.”
Mistrust was written across his face and it seemed like the first completely honest emotion you’d been able to pull from him. 
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s fine, we can fix that after I get you out of here.” You sighed. “Wish me luck. I’m an awful liar.”
He trailed after you as you left, seemingly incapable of letting you out of his sight. 
Maybe he was. Maybe he’d been ordered to do so. You had no way to tell. It made your heart hurt, the sight of him here, the idea of Cazador’s other spawn that you couldn’t save. At least not yet. 
He followed you like a loyal pup all the way to Cazador, who was lounging in a chair without a care in the world. 
He chuckled at the sight of Astarion behind you. “And how was my spawn? To your satisfaction?”
You swallowed down that bile that rose in you as you said, “He was a delight. I was wondering, in the name of our agreement, is there any way I could keep him? It’s just that I’ve grown quite fond of him so very quickly.”
Cazador laughed, a putrid, callous thing. “I’m sure. He can be quite… convincing. And this would make you amenable to my terms?”
You nodded. “All the monster hunters in Baldur's Gate will focus their attention in… other places. You and yours will be entirely safe from our wrath.”
“And if we’d like to push you in the direction of another creature?”
You gave him a tactful nod. “We could be convinced.”
“Good.” He laughed once more. “Typical monster hunter. You pretend to hate us and yet you want to keep a vampire pet.”
Astarion leaned into your side and you felt a little queasy at the performance as you snaked your arm around him. “Like I said, he was very convincing.”
He sighed. “You drive a hard bargain. As you wish, you shall have your terms. Just tell me if he doesn’t behave. I can get him sorted right out for you.”
It took everything you had not to lunge at him thinking about everything he’d put this poor man through. “Of course, but I’m sure I’ll be able to manage just fine on my own.”
You got out of there as fast as you could. Even if you hadn’t had Astarion with you, you didn’t want to spend any longer than absolutely necessary with the monster. 
You pulled him through the streets back to the house you were staying in, racing against the sun. You barely had enough time to get him there and pull him inside, but you had a feeling he’d prefer this mad dash over staying another day with his master.
Regardless, the whole time your eyes were darting around, looking for places you could hide him should you need to. 
You wondered what you’d even do if it had come to that. Just sit with him for the rest of the day, you supposed, unless he wanted to try a risky maneuver with a thick blanket. 
You tried to pull him inside but it was like an invisible wall had stopped him in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look and he grumbled, “You have to invite me.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, come in!”
As soon as the words left your mouth, he rushed in beside you and you set yourself to making sure all of the widows were fully shut, pulling the curtains tight. 
He watched you dart about, tugging at the thick fabric. His gaze was judgemental but at least the emotion seemed genuine. 
As soon as you were mostly certain he wouldn’t burn to death, you turned to him. “We won’t be leaving for a while so you can make yourself at home. If you need anything just let me know, okay?”
You didn’t see him for the whole day. You were busy and he made himself scarce. You couldn’t blame him. You imagined he’d long since made it a habit to avoid being seen by anyone. Anyone except his forced prey, you supposed. But still, he hid away from them, in his own way. 
“Astarion, can you come look at this?” you called out as the sun finally dipped fully below the horizon, hoping he was close enough that he could hear you. And hoping he would come even if he did. 
It took a few minutes but eventually he came sauntering down the stairs. 
“Yes, my dear?”
You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the window, gesturing out at the carriage that was illuminated by torches alone, shrouded in the thick darkness of the night. “Do you think it’ll be alright? The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”
He stared out at the carriage you’d spent hours painstakingly attempting to make impenetrable to light. You’d painted the windows black, hung blankets over top of them, shoved old linens in the cracks in the doors. 
He cautiously headed outside, staring at the carriage with furrowed brows. “Did you do this?”
“Yeah, I tested it during the day. It seemed pretty solid but obviously you couldn’t check then. I could bring a torch around the outside if you wanted to check for yourself.”
He looked at you like you were mad. “We could have just traveled at night.”
You shrugged. “It’s a two-day journey and I didn’t want to depend on inns and shelter along the road to protect you during the day. This seemed safer.”
He opened the door, sitting inside and looking around at the painstakingly covered windows and cracks, and you couldn’t tell if he seemed uncomfortable because he was worried about the sun or because of the sheer amount of effort you’d clearly put into it. 
“Do you want anything for the ride?” you asked, pushing forward. “Some books or something? I could go get them for you.” 
“Your company is all I could ask for.”
“Okay, but for real though. Never mind, I’ll just get you some books.” You doubted you’d be able to pull an honest answer from him for a very long time, if at all. 
After a frenzied book run, the two of you were ready to head off, locking yourselves inside the carriage until the sun set once more. 
The bumps of the carriage jostled the two of you as you rode. The flickering orange light of two lanterns, one for each of you, barely illuminated the darkened space and you couldn’t help but feel a little claustrophobic. 
He was sitting, staring at you, book untouched on his lap. 
You’d brought as many options as you could think of, romance novels, epics, history, a horticultural book that had pulled a snort and an incredulous look from him when he’d seen it. 
He didn’t seem much in the mood for reading and under his unblinking gaze, neither were you. Instead, you stared at the painted-over window, wishing there was anything else you had to look at in the dim light. 
“Admiring your paint job?” he asked with a chuckle as you continued to refuse to meet his unblinking gaze. 
“Something like that.” You decided to take the broken silence as an opportunity. Anything was better than being silently stared at and you weren’t sure you’d get a better chance to ask him. “Can I ask you something that’s potentially insensitive?”
He smirked at you with that practiced allure. “Ask away.”
“Were you one of his favorites? Cazador's, I mean.”
He scoffed. “In a way. He loved torturing me more than anyone else.”
You leaned forward. “So it might be easier to convince him to part with the others?”
His eyes narrowed at you and you watched as he tried once again to figure out what your angle was. “You’ve got a real bleeding heart, don’t you?”
“We’ve been unable to hurt him for so long, failed at it for years and years. Every day you were there was because we weren’t good enough at what we did. I can’t help it, I feel a little responsible for you. For all of you.”
“Oh please,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Like I’m not one of the monsters you hunt.”
You cocked your head to the side. “Why would you be? Who have you hurt?”
He laughed a cold, cruel laugh. “Darling, you have no idea how many people I’ve hurt.”
“You haven’t though. Cazador hurt people through you, sure. But you didn’t hurt anyone, not really. You’re a victim just as much as they were. At least we managed to save some of them.”
He squirmed in his seat. “I think they might disagree.”
You shrugged, something delicate in his eyes telling you not to push. “Maybe.”
The rest of the ride was completed in silence, not only fueled by your discomfort but now also Astarion’s irritation with you. 
Your driver gave a knock on the door as the sun disappeared, just as you’d instructed him to, and you opened it to find a quaint little inn surrounded by woods in front of you. 
He left to take care of the horses and you led Astarion inside, securing two rooms for the three of you. In a perfect world you would’ve gotten Astarion his own room, but his vampirism wasn’t exactly subtle and you couldn’t help but worry that some overzealous patron of this establishment might take it upon themself to rid the inn of the supposed monster. 
You led him up to the room you’d be sharing and as you entered, he stood in the doorway and took in the sight. 
You were quick to give him a quiet, “Come in,” but he brushed you off.
“That’s for houses, not individual rooms. I just…there’s two beds.”
You nodded. “Yup. For two people.”
He eyed you suspiciously, as if the two beds might be part of some devious scheme. After a few moments, he seemed to decide it was just a normal room and took the bed nearest the door. 
He seemed paler than he’d been the night before and a horrible thought struck you. “Oh my god, you need to eat! I haven’t been feeding you.”
He chuckled. “Good luck with that, there aren’t many disposable animals out here. At least, not ones you could catch. Unless you want to let me at the horses, but that would leave us in quite the predicament.”
“I mean, you could drink from me. Not everything, obviously, but I could spare some.”
You held out your hand to him, presenting your wrist and looking at him expectantly.
“I’m not allowed to drink human blood,” he spat back at you, the bile of hundreds of years of resentment lacing his words. “Cazador doesn’t allow it.”
“You’re not his anymore. He gave control over to me and I say you can do whatever you’d like and that you don’t take orders from anyone anymore. The offer stands.” You went to withdraw your hand until his hunger bested his hesitation but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. 
“Well,” he said with a sly smile. “As long as you’re offering, I would be a fool to turn you down.”
It was so strange how quickly it happened, how easily he could slip right back into that faux confidence. 
He leaned towards you and you backed away at the hungry look in his eyes, one you were more than familiar with. 
“If you really want to I’m sure there’s ways we could make this a more rewarding experience for you,” he said and in a heartbeat he maneuvered himself over you, his hands interlaced with yours and holding you to the mattress. 
You pulled yourself back in an instant, leaning against the headboard as you presented your wrist to him once more. 
You didn’t fault him for it. After years of surviving with it, of course he would keep trying to draw you in with his sexuality. The instinct couldn’t be snuffed out overnight.
You’d bat away his attempts as many times you needed to, try and make him understand. You weren’t sure if it would ever work, not fully, but you’d keep trying. 
“It’s easier this way,” you said in explanation, giving him something to latch onto that didn’t feel like rejection. 
He rolled his eyes. “Easier, I’m sure. Typical, I got a master who’s allergic to fun.”
“I’m not your master. You can do as you please, could leave now if you wanted.”
“And go where?” he snapped. “You can pretend if you must but I know what I am. I know where I stand. I am a lot of things, but I am no fool.”
“I know.”
He studied you for a moment, eyes daring across your face before he pulled your wrist towards him, digging his teeth into your flesh. 
The sharp pain lasted for a heartbeat before it faded away to a dull ache. He lapped at the open wound, his put-on demeanor disappearing as he got lost in it. 
He cradled your hand like it was a lifeline. In a way, you supposed it was. 
You could feel yourself getting lightheaded as he fed but you refused to stop him. You would not command it of him, would rather die than force him into it. You let out a quiet whine, your form slumping back into the bed. 
He drew away immediately and your blood began pouring onto the white sheets of the bed. 
A moment of panic reflected in his red eyes before he grabbed the corner of the sheets, wrapping them around your wound. 
“There,” he said, his voice quieter than his normal bravado. “Should keep you from bleeding out.”
Your eyes were locked on his collarbone, a dark bruise becoming visible as your blood fled through his previously starved body. The longer you looked, the more of them you could see, peeking out from under his clothes. 
“Oh, you poor thing,” you said in hushed tones, hands moving to reach for him before stopping in their tracks, unsure if your touch would be wanted. 
He was otherwise preoccupied, his eyes alight with something entirely new. He looked stronger, livelier. There was a warmth to his cheeks you’d never seen before. 
You resisted the urge to touch him, to see if he’d become warmer as your blood had begun to run through him, bringing a new light to his eyes. 
“You should get some rest,” he said, looking down at you lying exhausted and drained on the bed. “You certainly need it.”
You barely had time to laugh at his comment before you’d drifted off. 
The ride back was as quiet as it had been the day before, if a little less uncomfortable. Astarion still stared for much of it but he at least pretended to read his book. The healthy flush to his cheeks seemed to come with a bit of newfound comfort and ease around you that made you puff up with pride, even if you still felt a little woozy from the night before. 
“Here we are!” you said as a knock sounded on the door, opening it and leading him inside your home. It was an old manor of your family's, not particularly big, right on the edge of nowhere, and perhaps falling apart just a little but more than suitable for your purposes. “It’s a little bit of a mess but I kind of like it that way. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
You decided to put him in a room that was just a few doors down from your own, pointing out just where he could go to find you if he needed anything. 
You laid down to sleep once you got him situated, more exhausted than you typically were at this time of night. Despite how tired you were, presumably from the blood loss, you had to fight the urge to go and check on Astarion just one more time. 
You hadn’t known him for long but you’d already developed an intensely protective instinct towards the man. 
You did your best to put him out of your mind when a knock sounded at the door. 
“Come in,” you called out. You made no attempt to suppress your smile when he peeked in the doorway. 
“I think I’ve grown accustomed to your company,” he said sheepishly, and for once it didn’t seem like he was trying to seduce you. He seemed worn down, looking just as tired as you felt, a defeated air present on his face. 
You were too tired for subtlety, opening your arm to him and muttering a sleepy, “Just come here.”
He seemed grateful to not have to explain himself. To not have to ask. 
He sat on the bed, looking down at you where you lay. 
“No pillow this time?” he asked in that snide voice he used so often. 
“I can if you want. Just thought you might appreciate the closeness.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, I’ll be your little pillow to hug. Fair warning though, I run cold.”
You tried and failed to suppress a yawn as he got into bed beside you and you wrapped your arms softly around him. “I don’t mind. G’night.”
“Goodnight, my dear.”
Just like that, it became a bit of unspoken habit between the two of you. You felt it might honestly kill him to comment on it, to ask you for affection. But with no words, no pleasantries, there he was every night, beside you. 
One night, about a week into his residence in your home, he seemed more restless than normal, fiddling endlessly with your hand, incapable of sitting still. You turned to him with a pointed look. “Come on, out with it, it’s not good to go to bed with things left unsaid.”
He scoffed. “Why not?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, what if I die in my sleep or something.”
“If you die in your sleep, I think I might have bigger problems than things I didn’t say to you. Namely, some monster hunters who might take issue with the vampire you died next to.”
You shook your head. “No, I already told them about you, they wouldn’t hurt you.”
That seemed to take him by surprise, pulling back a bit at your words. “You did?”
“Of course I did. Now come on, out with it, what’s going on it that head of yours?”
He sighed dramatically and flopped back on his pillow. “It’s really nothing.”
“Not if it's bothering you. I want to help.”
“Did you mean it?” he blurted out, like the words had to be forced out of him quickly or they wouldn’t come out at all. “When you said you wanted to save the rest of them too?”
“Of course I did. And I will. At least if I have anything to say about it,” you said quietly, your stomach turning at the thought of the other spawn you’d left behind.
He turned from you as if you’d slapped him. “Right. I’m going to sleep in my own room. I should’ve been in there anyway, this was silly. Goodnight, darling.”
You chased after him in a heartbeat, catching up at him before he’d even managed to open his door. “Wait, what did I do? Astarion?”
He was an unstoppable force, storming into his own room. 
“I don’t understand what I did,” you pleaded with him, desperate to fix it. You raked through your conversation, trying to dissect every word spoken, every facial expression. You found nothing. Shouldn’t he be happy you wanted to help them? It didn’t make sense to you. 
He sat on his bed, one he’d never slept in, arms crossed and brows furrowed. When he spoke, there was a faux casualty to it, like he was trying to pretend none of it mattered to him. “I’m just making room for the next stray you let into your bed.”
You sat next to him, careful to keep your distance as you moved your head down to try and catch his eye. “You know I’m not replacing you, right?”
He huffed in response, turning away from you again. 
You made sure to keep your tone gentle and soft. “You know I wouldn’t let just any vampire spawn sleep next to me, right? It’s because I care about you, it’s not just because you’re there. No one is replacing you and I promise there is enough of me to help people while also still being there for you. I will save as many of them as I can until I can rid this world of Cazador but you’re not just Cazador’s victim, you’re my friend.”
He turned to you suddenly. “Stop saying that. Stop saying you’re going to hunt down Cazador. If he catches wind of any of this you’re dead. At least, if you’re lucky you’ll be dead. And then where will I be?”
“Hey, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I’m doing, we all know what we’re doing. He’s not going to get me.”
“That’s why you made that deal, is it? Did all the other hunters he slaughtered know what they were doing too? You aren’t a threat to him, you are a nuisance. You need to stop,” he snarled. 
You couldn’t stop. You both knew that, could see it as clear as day. 
Instead, you just said a quiet, “Come on, come to bed,” and walked out of the room. 
He trailed behind you, the unendable argument weighing heavy on the both of you, no more words spoken as he slipped under the sheets. You gave his hand a squeeze, trying your best to reassure him despite knowing it would never work. Not as long as he was still out there. 
And then, as he leaned into your space, head brushing against your arm, something he’d been getting slowly more comfortable doing, something occurred to you that should have many days ago, back when he’d first arrived here. It was strange that he was here, now. Not just because of his uncomfortability with any sort of nonsexual closeness, but because of when it was. 
Not only did elves not sleep the same way nor as long as humans did, but vampires slept during the day typically, to enjoy the night as best they could. 
“I’m going to start sleeping during the day,” you said decisively. “That way we can keep doing this,” you said as you gestured around vaguely, “and you can go out, can do things with your waking hours. I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me sooner.”
His eyes widened. “You’d really let me leave?”
His surprise felt like a shard of ice through your chest. “Of course I would. You can do whatever you want. I’ll even do my best to help if you’ll ask me for it.” Another horrible thought struck you. “Wait, you didn’t think you could leave and you’ve been with me most nights. What have you been eating?”
“Whatever I could find. I make for wonderful pest control.”
Your heart sank. You should’ve considered this sooner, never put him through any of this. 
“Here, drink from me,” you said, sticking out your hand. “I can get some bigger animals for you, keep them here so you don’t have to hunt for them if you’d prefer, but for now I will have to do.”
He hesitated, although his gaze was less suspicious than the last time you’d done this. Instead, he looked nervous. “You’ve… you’ve already done so much for me. I shouldn’t.”
“Astarion, you’re starving,” you said quietly, trying to reason with him. 
“I’d rather not push it. Eventually, even your charity will run out.”
You shook your head. “It will not. It’s fine if you don’t believe me, I know it’ll take time, but I will keep being here for you until it sinks in. Promise.”
He laughed quietly, seeming more for himself than for you, something that had been happening more and more lately. “You underestimate my distrust, I think I could outlast you.”
You smiled back. “Challenge accepted. But until then, you need to eat.”
You held out your wrist for him, the marks from the last time just beginning to fade. He took it, gingerly, bringing it slowly to his mouth and watching your face for any apprehension. 
You showed none, instead giving him a soft smile. “Go on. I don’t bite.”
That got a real laugh out of him. “That’s not funny.”
He pressed a soft kiss into your skin before sinking his fangs in, that sharp pain coming with a flutter of warmth inside your chest. 
He was slower this time, more intentional as he drank. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he wasn’t as hungry or if it was because it felt less like his meal might be ripped away from him unceremoniously. 
He didn’t get as lost in it this time, eyes flicking up to meet yours, checking in on you. 
You didn’t even get the chance to try and tell him you were feeling woozy before he drew back, pulling a handkerchief you hadn’t even noticed off the side table to wrap around your wrist. 
“Wouldn’t want to get our sheets all bloody,” he said as he knotted it tight around your wound. 
Your hands moved slowly as soon as he released them, reaching up towards his face and giving him plenty of time to back away. 
For a moment, when he first saw you reaching for him, he pulled back and you were ready to retreat and shower him in endless apologies when, as suddenly as he’d moved away, he leaned into your touch. 
Gentle hands cradled his face, ones he’d flinched away from but a moment before. He leaned into them openly now, unabashedly, making a home between your palms. 
He was warmer like this, with your blood rushing through him. 
You pulled him closer as his head tucked right under yours, your fingers carding gently through his hair. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, barely loud enough to reach his ears, and you had no idea if he believed you. 
You doubted it, doubted that you’d been able to break through all those years of his living hell so quickly. His walls had been carefully constructed for a reason, and you understood why he was so hesitant to break them down. You couldn’t blame him, would never blame him. 
It didn’t really matter. You’d keep trying either way.
1K notes · View notes
eveningepiphany · 9 months
Text
welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot
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my masterlist!
summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.
warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!
a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.
also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig
———
There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.
That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.
You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.
You’d waited years just to get here in general.
When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.
But you’re here. At the front.
You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.
A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.
Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.
But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.
Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.
You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.
Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.
“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.
You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.
“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.
Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”
Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.
“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.
“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.
You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”
You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.
“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.
“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.
You could stay in this moment forever.
As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.
You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.
Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.
Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.
Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.
And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”
“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.
Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.
The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.
You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.
You were enamoured by him.
Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.
His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.
“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.
“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.
He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”
You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.
But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.
From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.
But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.
This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.
And then he reads the sign.
‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’
His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.
You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.
“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.
As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.
However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.
He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.
“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”
“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.
You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.
Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.
‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.
A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.
“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.
He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.
“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.
“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”
A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”
Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.
You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.
“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.
He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”
You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.
The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.
Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.
“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.
“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.
“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”
And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.
You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.
And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.
But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.
You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.
It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.
To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.
Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”
You blow a kiss back.
And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.
Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.
You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.
Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.
———
Post love on tour depression is a real thing.
There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.
But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.
The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.
And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.
The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.
You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.
You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.
It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”
It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.
That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.
Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.
“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.
He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.
He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.
“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.
You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.
But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.
You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.
“Hi…” You flush profusely.
“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.
Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.
The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.
That are very intensely locked onto yours…
“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”
He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”
“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.
“Y/N.” He tuts gently.
“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.
“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.
“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.
“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.
Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?
You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.
“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”
“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.
“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.
You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.
He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.
Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.
You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.
Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.
Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.
You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.
You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.
You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”
He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.
“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.
“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.
“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,
“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”
Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”
He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.
In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.
“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.
The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.
“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.
“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.
“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.
“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”
He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”
“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.
“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.
“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.
“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”
“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.
“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.
“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”
He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.
You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.
Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.
The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.
He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.
Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.
You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.
But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.
You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”
He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”
A friend of his?
“Alright, bye, I love you.”
And just like that the phone hung up.
“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.
“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.
You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.
“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.
It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.
“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”
“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”
As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.
Your brain stalls at his comment.
“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.
“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”
“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.
“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.
You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”
He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”
“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”
You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”
He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.
You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.
“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”
You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”
He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.
You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.
“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.
“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.
He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.
“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.
Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.
You check your phone to see the time.
1:53pm
1 new notification
Unknown Number | :)
So that actually did just happen.
———
To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,
so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?
And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.
———
part two!!
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panic-at-the-fiction · 9 months
Text
The death of you
Summary: You and your best friend have your usual movie night except he can’t seem to keep his cuddly hands to himself and your close to physical combusting. Just a bit of your usual order of slightly angsty desired filled romance with little touch starved reader on the side.
Warnings: doesn’t go any farther than kissing just very passionate, very suggestive, Maybe I’m biased as the author, but damn it’s hot.
A/N: So I’ve been out of practice for 10 months now. Haven’t even wrote more than a paragraph that I just turned around and delete 20 minutes later these past few months. But let’s just say I found some inspiration to use for our favorite fictional men and we’ll see how this goes.
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Movie night with Eddie, that’s normal, done it a million times. With friends, just the two of you, late at night, middle of day, outside, inside, at the theater, at his house, thrillers, comedies, action, romance, anything and everywhere for years. So why was this time different?
Currently you were sitting on Eddie’s couch watching the most recently picked out tape from the family video store. Steve let you guys borrow them for free as long as you brought the tape back the very next day. You guys watched movies all the time, so why was your heart beating out of your chest like a race horse on its final stretch to the finish line? Was it because his arm was around you?
No it couldn’t be that, Eddie was a big cuddler, it didn’t mean anything. He loved hugs despite his scary image in the public eyes, and he was always finding weird ways to poke, prod, or touch you. He was the type of friend to bite your shoulder when he got bored, an absolutely feral mad man type guy. And he knew that despite your lack of experience with physical affection, you never mind when it came from him. He always got your free pass.
Maybe it was the slow circles you felt him drawing on your skin? Or how occasionally his hands would slip into your hair, playing with it? Much more intimate little things that were making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin from just the hints at this new kind of physical touch.
Yep, that was definitely the issue.
You tried removing his arm from around your shoulder and instead brought it back down to his side. But when he looked at you with such confused puppy dog eyes, you caved and played it off as just repositioning yourself as you instead wrapped around his arm and leaned into his side, laying your head on his shoulder. You could never deny him anything, just another issue of being so damn in love with your best friend.
As the movie ticked on and you both stuck to your usual quiet with some slight hilarious commentary during the movie, Eddie eventually pulled you closer so that he could bury his head into the back of your neck. One of his hands came up to play with your hair some more.
You knew he wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. He couldn't possibly see it, the way he was laying his head into your neck. Of course, it wasn't a very intriguing movie either, just not a great pick this time. But now he was rubbing the same small circles right under your ear, this time, and every so often his hand would find itself tangled in your hair. You tried to keep yourself straight and breathing consistently without letting your mind wander too far. He had to know this! That HE was killing you slowly.
Your breath nearly hitched this time when you swear you felt him ever so lightly brush his lips against the side of your neck. Did you imagine that part? God, you hoped he would do it again.
You weren’t even questioning why he would do any of this, you just knew you had to get yourself out of there before he realized how much of a mess this was turning you into.
As the movie came to an end you swear he had brushed his lips against your neck at least twice more, and you still couldn’t tell if it was intentional.
“Eddie it’s getting late I’ll have to go home soon.”
“Yeah” he muttered into your hair, all the while holding you tighter.
You gave him, and even more importantly, yourself, another minute before attempting to pull away. “Eddie, I have to get home soon.” You sounded like a broken record as you once again tried half-heartedly to pull yourself free from him.
He only pulled you back in and buried his head into your other shoulder. His arm came around, this time drawing lines down the front of your neck, and you shook at the feeling. This time your hand came up, cupping his head and running your fingers through his hair. Which only caused him to brush his lips against your shoulder once more. That’s it, it had to be intentional.
You swore you would combust into flames if you stayed there any longer like this. As every trace down your throat made you stop breathing. “I'm going to have to be the bad guy. I have to go.” You said, completely pulling away from him this time, moving to the other side of the couch.
He groaned, but nodded as he let you move away from him this time. He ran a hand through his hair before staring at you, darker and more lovingly than you had ever seen before. “Man, you're pretty with your hair messed up.”
God, that was the final straw. You jumped up off the couch. “You can’t say shit like that, Eddie.” You ran your hands up and down your arms, trying to stop how shaken you felt. Your nerves were on high, and he was still looking at you with that same stare.
“Why not?”
“Because!”
“Because what?”
“You’re my best friend. You can’t sit here and hold me like that, and stare at me like that and kiss my neck softly like that and then expect me to just be able to functionally drive home like it was another normal movie night hangout.” You snapped. He had you wound up and your lack of dating experience left you mad for more touches from Eddie.
He sunk low and pain hit you in the gut. “I didn’t realize I was crossing any boundaries of our friendship.” He said, leaning back on the couch. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.”
You sat back down next to him, panicking as you realized how he took your reaction. “No, god no, no that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel uncomfortable, Eddie. EVER! I mean, it wasn’t bad like that. It was good…horribly, terribly good. The kind of good you aren’t supposed to feel when watching a movie with your best friend.” You rambled.
So this was how you were going to confess to him your feelings. Man, he had you so on edge, you would admit anything to him right now if he asked.
That almost hungry stare returned to his eyes as he looked back down at you. You had read about that stare before, many times, and honestly, you thought it was an overused phrase in romance. The hungry stare, but honestly, what else could you call a look like that?
“God, you’ll be the death of me, Eddie Munson.” You laughed, not being able to look at him as long as he stared at you with those big brown eyes.
“You should stop taking the lord's name in vain. It’s a bad habit.” Eddie whispered as he leaned closer to you, getting inches away from you. Your four heads were nearly touching, causing both of you to gently close your eyes at the feeling.
“It's funny, I didn’t have such a problem with it until now.”
You could feel his breath so close to you as your hands found their way back into his hair. He slowly dipped his head further down, leaving the same light kiss in his wake. He could feel you pull him closer and the kisses gained more pressure in a way you had been craving since he first came anywhere near you with his light touches.
As he kissed harder into your neck, your hands switched from running through his hair to almost pulling at it. You began leaning back further on the couch as you pulled him down with you until Eddie was over top of you. You wanted to give him the room to be fully on top of you, so you wrapped your legs around him as he put his whole force over you.
You felt engulfed and dazed in a way you never experienced before as he began to kiss you faster moving sporadically across your neck until he had kissed almost every square inch of you. You focused on keeping your breathing even, trying to spare yourself embarrassment from how simply he had you melting underneath him.
He pulled away from you, hovering over you with that same stare that was filled with so much adoration in it. “God, I would keep you here all night like this. Just right here, all mine, and with nowhere else to be. It’s just so satisfying to be able to wrap you up and hold you in a way I know no one else gets to.”
“You know, I think… I don’t really have to get home tonight. No one’s going to miss me if I stay here.” You said breathlessly.
Eddie grinned like the devil looking over you. “Good,” he said as he finally bent down, capturing your lips. His hand came up to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet him.
That was the last straw, you were a melted puddle that belonged to him now. If this was to be only the beginning of the evening, then surely Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.
1K notes · View notes
janeyseymour · 5 months
Text
Bridge Over Troubled Water
Request by: @iloveyall-18
Summary: You're Melissa's aide, and she's working you to the point where you think you might have to quit.
WC: ~7.3k
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Ashley got fired. Or... Melissa threatened that if she ever came back, she would wish she hadn’t. Either way, the aide wasn’t coming back, and the redhead was back to teaching two separate grades on her own... not that she wasn’t doing that before, but now it's official. She’s back to being on her own. 
“I don’t need another aide!” the teacher huffs at the principal. “I do just fine on my own, and I swear to you... if that little-” she cuts herself off before threatening Ava, “If Ashley comes back to me, I will retire early and leave you to handle two separate grades in one classroom.”
“You won’t!” Ava challenges.
“You wanna put money on it?” Melissa spits right back. She storms out of the room, not bending her knees and clearly very angry. Anybody could see that. What they don’t see is the absolute mess that her former aide had left for her. 
The room was currently in shambles. The progress monitoring papers weren’t organized in the slightest, the decorations were randomly hung with no sense of order or reason at all, half the desks were out of sorts, and the kids were still singing that stupid body song that Ashley had taught them while pounding on their desks. She still had to finish doing reading benchmarks with her third grade- or maybe it was second grade? Melissa has no idea at this point- all she knows is she’s about two seconds from taking a bat to her filing cabinet to get out her rage. 
“Alright!” she shouts into the room, her voice booming. Almost instantly, the kids stop. She takes a deep breath. “Okay, my little eagles. We’re taking quiet time a little early today so... So Ms. Schemmenti can get this place in order.”
A few of her kids help her organize the desks while Melissa does her best to organize the progress monitoring papers, as well as the other papers she kept on file for each kid. It doesn’t go well- she keeps confusing which students are in second grade and which students are in third grade. It doesn’t help that she has a few sets of siblings, and she had most of her third graders last year as second graders. She eventually just gives up.
“Line up,” the woman sighs in defeat. “We’re going outside.”
“Extra recess?” Maddie, one of the second graders, asks hopefully.
“Yeah, hon,” the redhead smiles down at him gently. “Ms. Schemmenti needs some fresh air, and hopefully a walk around the block if Ms. Teagues is outside too.”
“Do you think you need a hug?” the little girl asks. “Sometimes when I’m frustrated and need fresh air, I need a hug too.”
The teacher’s heart nearly melts. “Yeah, kiddo,” she says softly. “I think Ms. Schemmenti could use a Maddie hug.”
The second grader embraces her teacher for a few seconds before pulling away. “Feel a little better?” she asks hopefully.
“I do, sweetheart,” Melissa promises. “Thank you.”
As the combined second and third grade class makes their way down the hall, they stop at Janine’s room. “We’re goin’ outside. You comin’?”
“O-oh, yeah,” Janine looks shocked. “Yeah, we’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Melissa smirks to herself. “Alright, kid. Don’t be too long now.” It was looking like she was going to get her walk around the block that she had hoped for... and maybe a water ice or a hoagie from Wawa to cheer her up even more.
That was a few days ago. Melissa was floundering with the two grades again. She hates to admit it, but Ashley had some sort of way with the kids that could keep them occupied while she handled the bulk of it. And even if she wasn’t usually helpful, having some sort of distraction so she could focus was useful.
“Okay,” she storms into Ava’s office. “So many I could use an aide, but I swear to God, it better not be-”
“Melissa,” Ava cuts her off in an oddly serious tone. “I’m in an interview.” Only then does the redhead stop her tangent. She looks at the chair across from Ava, and there you are. You’re terrified of this woman to be quite frank- just storming into the room and knowing exactly what she wants. And she’s... wow. She’s really pretty. And the way that her- get your head out of the gutter.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Melissa fumbles her words. She’s too busy looking at you too, not that she would admit that to anyone. “We’ll talk late-”
“Well, Ms. Schemmenti,” the principal laughs. “Because I am such a great owner of this school, I decided to take initiative and find you a replacement aide after you so... rudely... let Ashley go. This is Y/N. She’ll be your new aide.”
You bite your lip. You have no idea how you’re going to work with her when you already have the hots for her. “Hi,” you say shyly and stick your hand out.
She shakes it. “Schemmenti. Melissa. Let’s get goin. I gotta pick the kids up, and then I need to finish their reading checks, so you can just hang back for the afternoon and observe and get to know the little monsters.”
You hesitate to move, and she glares at you. “C’mon, what's the matter with you? You need a special invitation?” She shakes her head, clearly not approving you, and stalks down the halls. You sigh, grab your bag, thank Ava quietly, and head towards your assigned teacher. You easily fall into step with her.
She collects the kids from music room and directs the line leader to take them all the way down to the classroom. Once the kids are settled in their seats, Melissa allows them to grab their snacks from their bags before she turns on a read aloud from Storyline Online- one of your favorite websites to use with the kids. She notices that you’re still standing awkwardly just inside of the door.
“C’mere,” she rolls her eyes. You quickly go to her desk. “Yes, Ms. Schemmenti?”
“First off,” she huffs. “It’s Melissa. Ain’t no need to be formal with me, you got that?” you nod. “Second, that back table is your new desk, but you do anything too stupid to it, I will take it back, and you’ll have to stand all day. Y’understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” you say rigidly.
“Still too formal,” the redhead tells you. “C’mon. Just say my name.”
“O-okay, Melissa,” you whisper. She smiles at you, just barely. But you know you want to see that smile again. You see the way her eyes sparkle just a little differently when you’ve done something that isn’t pissing her off.
“There y’go, hon,” she smirks. “Now... for today, like I told you, I’m just monitoring their reading and checking progress, and I’ll probably be doing that for the next few days since my last aide spilled all of her gatorade over the first few kids’ work I already did. Use that time to just settle in- maybe get to know the kids a little bit.”
  You nod and head back to where she told you your station was. You immediately see a bunch of thick water rings on the wood, presumably from the incompetent aide before you. You see the way that some parts of the desk are still sticky with... is that gum? And there’s paint all over the desk. You walk back over to her desk, and she finally looks like she's at some sort of peace. You hate to interrupt it.
“Do you have cleaner? That desk is a mess,” you request softly.
“Bottom cabinet by the sink,” she tells you. “Paper towels are down there too.”
“Thank you,” you smile at her as you walk away. She almost instantly falls in love with your smile. She always wants to see it.
You clean the desk and have your things relatively set up when the story is over, and she turns the lights back on.
“Alright, my little monsters,” she smiles as she stands and makes her way around her desk. “As some of you know, Miss Ashley is gone, and Principal Coleman was able to find us a replacement, so this is Ms. Y/N. Don’t rip her apart, you hear?”
“Yes, Ms. Schemmenti,” They say in unison. She has a smirk on her face though. 
“Ms. Schemmenti has to do some more independent reading with youse, so if I’m not working with you, your choices are to-” she opens her marker and starts writing on the board. “Read independently, work on any papers in your unfinished work folder, or do math fluency. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Ms. Schemmenti.”
“Since this is all independent work, should I be able to hear your squeaky little voices?” Melissa asks them, a smile on her face.
“No, Ms. Schemmenti.”
“Alright, kiddos. Start working. I’m gonna need Maddie first.”
As the kids start to get out their materials, and Melissa takes to work with a student at the table connected to her desk, you stand. You might as well make yourself useful and make sure the students are doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You start circulating the room quietly, making sure to redirect a few students who aren’t doing what they should be. 
You even sit down with a student who seems to be having trouble with their reading and start to help them decode words that aren’t sight words. You help them sound the word out and use their context clues to figure out the meaning of the word. 
Your assigned teacher starts calling other students, and you can’t help that she’s haphazardly throwing the progress monitoring sheets onto her desk. You look around the room. Every student is doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You walk over.
“Can I help you organize those?” you ask shyly. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but I would love to help in any way I can.”
She glances up at you, and there are those sparkling green eyes again. “You know what?” she mutters to herself. She pulls two separate class lists out along with some folders. “Knock yourself out kid.”
You smile as you take the materials and bring them back to your table. You’re able to sort through the papers and get them in order in no time. 
“Do you have a filing cabinet, or maybe bins for this to go in?” you ask as you bring the stacks back over. “Any other papers for me to file?”
She just points over at the bigger piles on her desk. You grab them and think about how you want to organize all of this for her. She has different colored folders, manilla folders, and a filing cabinet.
You assign each color folder a subject and put one of each color folder in a manilla folder. The manilla folder has the student’s name on it, and then that goes into the filing cabinet. This way, if Melissa needs to pull information for a certain student, it’s all in one place. If she needs to pull from a certain subject, she’ll know what color folder to pull for each student. You’ve used this system before. You know it’ll work just fine for the redhead so long as you leave her with a key for the colored folders. 
While you do this, you still manage to make sure the students are staying on task and are remaining relatively quiet. You go between organizing her papers and tending to the students seamlessly. Melissa can’t help but look at you in wonder. Maybe she got lucky having you join her class.
After a bit of time, Melissa pulls the class back together to do a whole group math lesson, a new concept for the second graders and review for the third graders, and while she’s teaching you continue to silently organize. When the time comes for the students to practice, you circulate the room in order to make sure students are grasping the concept- they should. The redhead taught it very thoroughly and very explicitly. 
After math, the students head out for lunch. You settle in at your desk, ready to nibble on the granola bar you brought for the first day- eating in new places always made you relatively nervous. You promise yourself tomorrow you’ll bring a real lunch.
“Hey, Y/N,” Melissa comes back into the room after dropping the kids off at lunch. “You got a lunch?” You raise your granola bar in the air as you chew, a hand over your mouth. “We got a staff room if you’d rather eat there. I’ll be there for the lunch period, and then I’ll be back to grade those worksheets.”
You just nod quietly and settle into your seat. She lingers at the door for a few seconds before shrugging. “Suit yourself.”
You finish your lunch relatively quickly. During the lunch period, you manage to write your key for your filing system, finish filing their papers, and grade the third graders’ papers. You set them neatly on her desk with a sticky note that says, Hope you don’t mind.
“I have no clue who she is or where she came from,” Melissa sighs into her lasagna. “But she’s like a walking angel on this Earth.”
“Oh?” Barb pops an eyebrow.
“In the hour she’s been in my room, she’s cleaned the mess that Ashley left, came up with a filing system for me and started putting it together, made sure the kids were on task while I progress-monitored for reading, and helped Shyane with her decoding. This woman isn’t real, I swear.”
“That’s great to hear, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher smiles. “You deserve the help after what... she did to your room. And what’s her name?”
“Y/N,” the redhead says. 
“You actually know her name?”
“I figured I should probably learn it,” the second and third grade teacher shrugs. “Lord knows I yelled Ashley’s name enough. It woulda helped if I actually knew her name the first two weeks I was yellin’ at her.”
Barb just laughs. Their lunch period ends, and Melissa finds herself almost excited to come back into the classroom to see you.
You’re sitting at your table, head down as you type furiously on your laptop. You’re trying to finish up this paper to submit for your graduate program. It isn’t due for another three days, but you want to be finished with it so you can attempt to settle into your new job.
Melissa silently meanders her way over to her desk where she sees everything you’ve done. Her eyes widen as she realizes just how much you had completed for her. She opens her filing cabinet and looks at how you’ve organized everything before taping your rather aesthetically pleasing legend to that portion of the cabinet. 
“You didn’t have to do all this, hon,” she says softly. “I appreciate it though.”
You wave a hand in dismissal and continue writing your paper. “I had the time, and I didn’t mind. I hope you don’t mind that I graded the third graders’ stuff for you. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do with it though, so I left it out.”
“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I really do appreciate it. You just saved my Saturday.”
“Of course, Melissa,” you reply, eyes still glued to your computer.
“You workin’ on something important over there?” she asks.
You stop your typing to look up and smile at her. “Just trying to get ahead on my paper for my one graduate class.”
“You’re in grad school?”
“I am,” you say softly. “I used to teach third grade out in the suburbs of Philly, but I decided to take a leave of absence to take some classes over at Temple. I don’t know if I could handle all of the aspects of teaching while taking four grad classes at a time.”
“Four?” her brows furrow. “That’s a lot of work.”
“It’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I’m trying to get it done as quickly as I can so I can get back to teaching.”
“So how’d you end up here?”
“I could use the money, and all of my classes are at night anyway, so I have time during the day to keep in touch with my inner teacher.”
“What’re you going for?”
“Masters in reading,” you chuckle.
“So that’s why you could help Shyane with her reading and make it make sense for her,” Melissa catches on.
“Yup,” you chuckle, popping your ‘p’. “I can always help with progress monitoring too, if you’d like.”
“That would be greatly appreciated. And your classroom management is amazing,” she compliments.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you blush.
“That’s the quietest my classes have been since... the second week of school,” the redhead tells you as she starts grading the second graders’ work. “Give yourself more credit, rookie.”
---
That was two months ago. In the past two months, your graduate classes have really picked up. During any moment of downtime, you’re doing schoolwork. In this time, Melissa and you have grown close. You’ve come to realize she isn’t as tough as she likes to play- she’s actually quite soft for you. She’s also realized that you truly are an amazing teacher. The two of you are practically co-teaching the two different grades at this point, and she’s given you almost complete control of both grades’ reading workshop times. The two of you actually changed the schedules so that you could direct your full attention to both grades for their reading. While one group is doing their reading workshop lesson on the carpet, the other grade is doing independent work, and Melissa either circulates the room or is doing work at her desk.
You feel like you’re doing all of the work of a teacher at this point, without the pay of a teacher. She’s even asked you to come in for conferences to help explain certain aspects of the day to the students’ parents. At the rate you’re going, you would’ve been better off just staying at your old school and dealing with the parents and students there. You’re drowning. You are absolutely drowning. You don’t think you can do this anymore. 
You have to tell Ava you have to quit so you can focus on your classes again. You don’t want to leave the second and third grade teacher with her classes all by herself again... and you honestly don’t want to leave the redhead. She brings a spring to your step and makes you feel like you’re always doing amazingly. But you just... can’t handle doing this anymore. You're beyond stressed, and the only way you function at this point is with copious amounts of caffeine in your system at any given time. It’s unhealthy, you’ve lost weight from the stress and the fact that you barely have time to eat anything, and you need to... you need to leave while you’re on good terms with Melissa. You need to leave before you disappoint her because you’re falling behind.
You enter the classroom early like you always do, setting your things down at your table. Usually, you take this time while Melissa is in the staff room to continue working on a paper or researching, but instead you walk down to Ava’s office.
“Hey, Ava,” you knock gently on the frame of her door. “You have a minute?”
“Hey, girl,” she doesn’t even bother to glance up from her phone. “If you’re looking for more cleaning supplies, Mr. J took them all to-”
“I was actually hoping we could talk,” you say softly. “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Are you finally filling out a relationship form for you and Schemmenti?” the principal asks as she looks away from her phone, leaning forward. 
“What?” you ask, flabbergasted.
“Oh please,” Ava laughs in your face. “Don’t act like you two haven’t been sneakin-”
“Ava, I’m here to quit,” you get out before she can say anything else.
“W-what? No, you can’t do that,” the principal argues. “That classroom hasn’t been in better shape. Melissa hasn’t been angry walkin’ through the halls since you showed up.”
“I don’t want to leave, but I have to in order to keep up with my grad classes,” you tell her. “I can stay through conferences, but then I really have to focus on my own classwork.”
“But you're just an aide,” Ava tells you. “Surely you can handle it.”
“At this point, Melissa and I are co-teaching, and I’m only making an aide’s money. My grades are starting to slip in grad school, and I have to focus on that,” you tell her. “I’m running myself into the ground. I can’t keep doing this.”
“What if I just don’t accept your resignation?” she challenges. 
“Ava!” You fold your arms over your chest. “I’ll stay through conferences to help Mel, but then I have to focus on myself for a little.”
“Mel?”
“Not the point, Principal Coleman.”
“What if I offered you a contracted position?” Ava tries to bargain.
“You and I both know that’s not possible,” you sigh. “I’ve seen the budget, and Abbott is already pushing the limit.”
She groans. “You have to tell your woman though. There ain’t a chance in hell I’m telling her.”
“She’s not my woman,” you roll your eyes, but you exit. You suppose you’ll tell Melissa today during your prep.
You return back to your classroom, and those striking green eyes light up when she sees you. 
“There y’are,” she smiles at you. “I was hopin’ you would be here. I wanna talk to you about your thoughts on the field trip for the spring.”
You bite your cheek but nod. She doesn’t need to know you won’t be there for the field trip just yet. And if you tell her right now about your plans, she will flip. There’s not enough time to discuss that before the kids come in. So you wait to tell her. You discuss the different ideas for field trips to maybe do in the Spring. You suggest Longwood Gardens, while she thinks of the zoo. You have the idea to go to an arboretum, and she tells you maybe they could go to the ‘water zoo’, as one of your students loves to call it.
You teach your lesson while she progress-monitors for the other group, and then both classes have their special. 
“Ms. Y/N?” the teacher asks. “Would you mind walking them down to the gym while I run to the bathroom?”
You nod, and the kiddos all line up for you. You walk them down and are headed back into the classroom before you’re ready. The redhead falls into step with you as she leaves the bathroom.
“They’ve been pretty good today,” Melissa notes quietly as she walks with you.
“Yeah,” you sigh softly. You start to play with the hem of your shirt nervously as you come to terms with the fact that you have to tell her you’re leaving in three weeks.
“You okay, Y/N?” she picks up on one of your many nervous habits. “You need another pick me up? I can make another pot of coffee for us, although I do think you might benefit from something other than coffee.”
You start to pick at the imaginary lint on your pants. “I think we need to talk, actually.”
“Oh?” she looks at you with eyebrows knit in concern. “You need someone to sign off on your papers for grad classes?”
“N-no,” you chuckle nervously as you close the door. “I uh... I actually need to talk to you about after conferences.”
“Sure. hon. You got another brilliant idea?” She takes a seat at her desk, taking off her glasses and setting them on top of her hair. 
You sit on the edge of her desk and take a shaky breath. “Mel, after we hold conferences... I’m done.”
“Y-you’re what?” she freezes in her place.
“After conferences, I have to be done here,” you say softly, and you can’t look at her.
“You’re leavin’ us?” she whispers. She sounds heartbroken. “Leaving me? Just givin’ up on Abbott?”
You shake your head quickly. “No. Melissa, let me explain. Please.” You finally gain the courage to look at her, and you can see the tears in her eyes. You didn’t think leaving would affect her like this.
“Go ahead,” she says, tone full of ice. Her hands are on her hips, and she refuses to look at you. “Tell me why you’re leaving us. Giving up.”
‘Melissa,” you whisper and set a gentle hand on her arm.
“Don’t touch me,” she bites out. “Just explain yourself. How you’re too good for Abbott, so you’re going back to fancy, rich school out in the sub-”
“Melissa, I’m burning out,” you cut her off as you stand and start pacing her room. “I don’t want to leave, but I have to look out for my own well-being.” The redhead goes to open her mouth, but you continue. “I love Abbott more than you could ever imagine, but at this point: I’m running myself into the ground. I’m a full time grad student, I still work my shift at the restaurant on Sundays-”
“You never told me you did th-”
“-And at this point, I’m co-teaching with you. I don’t mind co-teaching with you; I actually love it. But I don’t have the time to plan out lessons, grade papers at home, or help you respond to parents when we’re off the clock. I’m only getting paid the aide’s pay, and I’m drowning in my own school assignments at this point. I-” you choke on your own breath. 
All of this is finally spilling out, and you can’t stop the tears that spring to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You didn’t realize how overwhelmed you were. 
“I barely sleep, I barely eat, and I can hardly afford my rent at this point,” you admit so quietly. “So I think I- If I had known this is what being an aide was going to be like, all the responsibilities of a contracted teacher without the teacher pay, I would’ve just stayed at my old school. I- I can’t do this anymore. I’ll stay and help with conferences, but after that... I told Ava I was done.”
The redhead looks at you and the way that you’re shaking, just barely breathing and trying to catch your breath. Her heart breaks for you. This was her fault. She expected too much of you and worked you into the ground. 
“Hon,” she stands from her chair and walks around her desk. She pulls you into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? You could’ve told me.”
“Didn’t wanna- didn’t wanna disappoint you,” you shrug as you practically cling to her.
“Y/N,” Melissa pulls back to look at you. “Are you kidding me? You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. You have natural talent when it comes to all of this, and even if you gave me just 25% as opposed to your usual 110%... It would be more than enough.”
Again, you shrug. “You kept asking for help, and I didn’t want to say no,” you mumble. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I wanted to make things as easy as possible for you- especially with the two different grades.”
“Hon, I’m a Schemmenti. I was made for tough situations,” the redhead chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “You, however, are not a Schemmenti. You’re close, but not quite. So you gotta tell me when you’re struggling and need some support or leniency, because I’d rather have a little more on my plate than usual while you’re still here with me than have everything on my plate and not have you here... or worse, have Ashley come back.”
You inhale deeply, finally being able to catch your breath, and you wipe your tears. “I- sorry. I don’t usually get like this, but I’m-”
“Please don’t leave,” Melissa practically begs you. “I don’t know if I can go back to having all of these kids to myself.”
“Mel, I’m working myself into the ground,” you tell her, and you sit down on one of the desks. The tears in your eyes just continue to well and fall. “I really don’t think I can keep doing this... It’s getting bad again.”
“What’s getting bad?” she asks as she mimics your actions.
You run a hand through your hair. A decent clump comes out as you comb your fingers through. You make sure the second and third grade teacher sees it before you throw it out. You sigh a shaky sigh. You suppose you can admit everything now that you’ve burst into tears. “When I get really stressed... I don’t know how to stop. I just keep going, but it affects m-my everything. My hair has been falling out because of my stress. Since I’ve started working here, I’ve lost fifteen pounds because I just don’t have the time to eat, and when I do... I just end up going to bed. And even when I do that, I still only get a maximum of four hours of sleep a night because I know I have things to do for you and the kids. I- I can’t keep doing this to myself, and I know it’ll get to a point where I’m just useless to you. You and the kids deserve so much better than what I’ll be giving you if I keep going. So, I’d rather be able to leave on good terms with Abbott and you before I ruin everything.”
You’re telling her the truth. This is all happening, and you really don’t want to leave on bad terms. You don’t want to disappoint Melissa. You quite literally think your heart would break if Melissa were ever disappointed in you. Over the past two months, all you’ve wanted to do is please Melissa and make her happy- make it easier for her in any way you can.
Somewhere in the middle of being her teacher’s aide, you found yourself falling in love with her. You don’t know it, but she’s head over heels for you too. You make her days so much brighter. Even just your presence and the soft smiles you throw at her occasionally keep her calm, cool, and collected. She would rather have to take on more responsibility again but be able to keep you than have you leave all together and leave her with the shitshow. 
“Hon,” she says softly. “Why didn’t you- how can I support you through this?”
You shake out your hands nervously. “I’ll be fine. I just have to get through this rough patch, and then I’ll be fine. I’ll- I’ll pick up more shifts at the restaurant to help cover my rent, and I-” you don’t know what else to say.
“Is there any way I can convince you to stay?” Melissa asks you hopefully. “I really would hate to lose ya.”
You shrug. You aren’t sure. You know that if she can come up with a few solid reasons or ways for you to stay, you will. You don’t want to leave, but it might be what you have to do.
“What if... I know we have a little wiggle room in the budget, so I can-”
“Ava already tried to offer me a contract position, but I know there isn't enough money there,” you sigh.
“But I’m sure we can argue to the board that you deserve some sort of raise?”
“I’m outsourced,” you tell her. “The board isn’t in charge of me.”
“Okay...” the woman desperate to keep you racks her brain for other ideas. “What if... I’ll start taking the third graders’ stuff home to grade instead of you. I’ll make sure I have everything planned out and the materials for lessons other than Reading workshop time... I really do think you do better with that than I ever have. And I’ll handle the parents the best that I can and only run an email by you if I really think I could use some... talking down..., and I- I’ll- I can make ya lunch to make sure you’re at least eating somewhat properly. This way... you’ll have some time to relax at home, you’ll be less stressed, and you can enjoy some of the best Italian food I got to offer. And, during everyone’s independent time, while I progress monitor, all I want you to worry about is making sure that pretty little head of yours is getting your degree. How’s that sound?”
“Mel...” you bite your lip. “That’s all real nice of you, but that doesn’t... I’d be taking a big step back from what you’re used to. I really don’t-”
“Please,” Melissa begs you. “Please. The kids- they love and respect you, and they would be heartbroken if you left. They’ve never listened to anyone as good as they do you. And I don’t want ya to go. It doesn’t even matter if you were to help out with the lessons anymore. You keep the kids calm, and you keep me calm. Like I said, I’m a Schemmenti; I can handle it all- that’s why I got stuck with the two classes in the first place. Gettin’ you was just a bonus. But now that I got ya, I don’t want to let you go. You make me a way better teacher, even if just to keep my emotions in check. Even if you don’t help plan the lessons anymore, or teach the kids... I want you around.You keep me grounded on days where I think I might lose it. I’ll be two seconds from snapping on Tymir, and all I gotta do is look at you to calm me down. I don’t wanna lose that; I don’t wanna lose you... and my sanity. You make my days way brighter than they used to be. Please stay with us.” 
She’s doing everything she can to convey how she feels about you without outright saying it. She’s saying anything she can think of to keep you around. She doesn’t want to lose you. She doesn’t want to lose you because no matter what you do, you keep her grounded. You make her a better teacher. You make her days brighter. You keep her in check. She wants you to stay. 
You worry your lip between your teeth as you mull everything over in your head. “I just don’t want you to start to hate me,” you admit nervously.
“I could never,” she tells you honestly.
“Even if I’m not doing as much?”
“Even if you did absolutely nothing but sit at your desk and look pretty all day,” she assures you. “I could never hate you.” I love you.
“You think I’m pretty?”
“Not the point,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully. “But yes. I’d have to be blind to think you weren’t pretty.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “O-okay. I’ll stay.”
The next thing you know, Melissa’s arms are around you and squeezing you tightly, thanking you endlessly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You give a watery chuckle before you hazard a glance at the clock. “I think you gotta go pick up the kiddos from the gym.”
“Dammit,” she grumbles. She pulls away and attempts to wipe away your tears with her sleeve. “Okay, okay. You go pull yourself together, go tell Ava that you ain’t leaving... and then all you gotta worry about today is looking pretty in the back. I don’t care what you do back there... sleep, eat, do research for your paper, start a cult... whatever you have to do to stay here with me... and the kids.”
“I’m not starting a cult,” you chuckle through watery tears. “Thank you, Mel.”
The two of you walk out of the classroom and head your separate ways- her towards the gym, you towards the bathroom.
You manage to pull yourself together a few minutes later, and then you walk down to Ava’s office.
“I take my resignation back,” you tell the principal as you enter her office.
“Your girl ain’t letting you go?”
“She isn’t my girl, but... she asked me to stay and we agreed on terms for me to work under, so I’ll be staying.”
Your principal just makes a whipping sound. “All I’m sayin is, should I get the forms ready for the two of you to file?”
You roll your eyes. “No, Ava. I- She isn’t into me like that.”
“That’s what you think,” Ava fires out. “That woman makes more eyes at you than Gregory did at Janine. It’s only a matter of time before you two come in here holding hands.”
With a huff and a toss of your hair, you exit the office and head back for the second grade wing.
When you re-enter the classroom, the kids are in the middle of snacking, but they’re doing a ‘working snack’ as you and Melissa call it. You don’t know what they’re working on, but when they finish it, they hold it close to their chest and take it up to the redheaded teacher. She gives each of them a sticker (from the tablet of stickers you bought for them) and sets the paper face down on her desk.
They don’t bother you at all as you make your way to the back of the room and settle at your seat. You pull out your laptop and attempt to focus enough to work on your paper, but you can’t help yourself from glancing up at the redheaded teacher every once in a while as she praises the students for their hard work.
Come lunch time, she heads down to the front office to pick up the cheesesteaks she had ordered for the two of you. You smell them before you know they’re for you, and you’re envious of whoever gets to dig into it. A cheesesteak sounds perfect just about now- so much better than the poptart you had packed yourself.
She walks in, both sandwiches in her arms, with a grin. “Put your laptop away, and enjoy lunch for once, hon.”
You nod and pull the poptart out of your bag. You go to open it when she plucks it out of your hand and throws it back into your bag. Instead, she lays the sandwich down in front of you. She pulls one of the chairs up to your table and starts to unwrap hers, biting into it with a moan.
“Damn,” she says through a mouthful. “That hits the spot.”
“M-Mel, you didn’t have to do that,” you say bashfully as you unwrap it. You take a small bite of the sandwich, and while your reaction to the first bite isn’t what Melissa’s was, you have to admit it’s pretty damn good. 
“I didn’t have to do anything,” she chuckles. “I wanted to. And when I’m done destroyin’ this, I’m gonna brew us another pot of coffee, and then I’ll cover your recess duty so you can do whatever it is that you have to-”
“Melissa,” you cut her off. “You’re going over the top.”
“I went over the top when I worked ya to the bone. Let me make it up to you.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Well, I’m gonna be out to cover your recess duty whether you’re out there or not, so...”
“Thank you,” you lay a gentle hand over hers and give it a squeeze. “I appreciate it.”
“I appreciate you and all the hard work you’ve been doing. If you need another day like this at any point where the kids don’t bother you or nothin’, all you gotta do is ask. I’ll always make sure to make it work for you. Anything for you. You hear me?” she tells you.
“Loud and clear, Ms. Schemmenti,” you giggle as you give her a mock salute. “Hey, what were the kids working on when I came in?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa tries to dismiss your question. “You’ll figure it out by the end of the day.”
The rest of your lunch period passes as it usually does. The two of you talk about everything, even in just twenty five minutes.
“Alright, hon,” Melissa stands and zips her jacket. “I’ll be out in the recess yard. You do whatever you gotta do, yeah?”
“You really don’t have to cover my recess-”
“I don’t have to, but I want to,” she lays a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently. “Let me do this for you.”
You nod. “Thanks, Mel.”
By the end of the day, your students haven’t bothered you once. Melissa has taken charge of the entire day, even changing plans around so she could teach both classes at the same time and monitor their independent work time simultaneously. You’re sitting in the back, eyes barely open as you type up the last of your paper. God, you’re exhausted. You can’t wait to go home and-
“Ms. Y/N,” Melissa singsongs. She taps your shoulder, and- How’d she even get next to you? And why are the kids lined up in front of you?
“Ms. Schemmenti?”
“Today, during snack time we figured we could use our time to make you cards to show how much we care for our favorite classroom aide,” the redhead says sweetly. “Isn’t that right, my little eagles?” 
They all nod enthusiastically. One by one, they hand you different drawings, pictures, words, poems... everything so that you know how much you mean to them. With each paper you’re gifted with, you also get a hug.
Melissa is the last one in line, and she hands you a paper folded neatly. You open it and glance over what she had written. She just tells you how grateful she is for everything you’ve done, and how thrilled she is that you’ve decided to stick around.
It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s perfect. It’s so Melissa. 
“Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti,” you breathe out as you wipe at your tears. “Wow. Thank you guys!”
“We love you, Ms. Y/N!” the class exclaims.
“And I love you guys,” you laugh through the last of your tears. “Thank you.”
A few minutes later, the bell rings, and all chaos breaks loose as the kids head out. You and the redhead are packing up the last of your things when you hear her sigh.
“So... what do you say you come over to my place tonight, and I make ya dinner while you finish up your paper and then relax? Make your life a little easier.”
“You already fed me one meal today and made my life easier,” you laugh as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“What’s one more?” she shrugs. “Offer’s on the table, and I make one mean risotto.”
“Alright, Mel,” you sigh in good nature. “But I’m bringing wine.”
“Grab something good.”
---
The redhead and you walk into Ava’s office together a month and a half later.
“I knew it,” she celebrates quietly. She then leans into the PA system. “Attention, Mr. Johnson: You lost! Fool!”
She opens her drawer and pulls out the forms for HR. 
She’s already filled out most of it with a sparkly pink pen- all you two have to do is sign the bottom to recognize that the two of you are in a workplace relationship. 
“Ava!” you exclaim as you look over them.
“I told you it was only a matter of time,” she says with a smug look on her face. 
You hate to admit it, but Ava was right.
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ellecdc · 3 months
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Come Back, Be Here (part 6)
p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8
Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.1k
CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, mention of Bellatrix's cursed knife (same injury Hermione received in canon), racism/bigotry, swearing x a million cuz it's Remus' POV, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N
Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, only to have you snatched out from under him again?
“Where the FUCK is she?”
The headmaster calmly placed his teacup back on its saucer as the two men came barging into his office.
“Ah, Mr. Black. Mr. Lupin. Please, take a seat.” 
So, Sirius did; he took the seat, and he threw it at the wall.
“I am not fucking around old man. Where. Is. She? Where is Y/N?” He barked.
“I’m afraid I don’t know.”
Sirius stopped in his pacing.
“You don’t know!?” Remus repeated incredulously.
Dumbledore nodded.
Sirius picked up a spinning orb from the headmaster’s desk and sent it careening to the window. The windows – the damned things – were charmed not to break, but the orb did. As pieces of crystal shattered and scattered onto the floor, many sleeping portraits of previous headmasters began waking. A few stayed behind to watch the spectacle, whilst many left to find other portraits to haunt for the time being. 
“That’s not good enough.” Sirius fumed.
With a casual flick of his wand, Dumbledore righted the chair Sirius had thrown. “Why don’t you have a seat, son?”
“I am not your fucking son!” He shouted back, kicking the seat over again.
“Mr. Lupin, why don’t you encourage your friend here to calm down?” The portrait of a previous headmistress asked condescendingly. 
“Get fucked, ma’am.” Was his muttered response.
With a huff, the headmistress decided to leave as well. 
“I am so sick of being played like some pawn in this gods-awful game of yours! We are children! You fucking groomed us as students and enlisted us right out of the gates, fattening us up like cattle for slaughter!”
“Now, Mr. Black-”
“I’M NOT DONE.” Sirius roared. 
Dumbledore shifted his eyes to Remus, who kept his gaze firmly on him.
“You – you’re supposed to be this powerful wizard with years of experience. You defeated that Grindel-fuck back in the sodding dark-ages or whenever, yet somehow, this is out of your wheelhouse!?”
“Mr. Black, everyone learned from the Global Wizarding World with Grindelwald; Tom Riddle how to cheat death, and myself to enlist the help of others.” Dumbledore said.
“But you didn’t get help! You got soldiers, and we’re the ones fighting this fucking war for you! You get to sit here in this bloody castle with powerful ancient wards protecting you, drinking your tea, wanking to the portraits of the other headmasters in your spare time, while the rest of us get their fucking heads blown off!
“We’re the ones being captured. We’re the ones being tortured. We’re the ones being killed. We’re the ones with blood on our hands fighting for our fucking lives, everyday! Bouncing from safe-house to safe-house whilst never being safe. And you know! You’ve known there was a spy, you’ve had contacts on the other side, but you give us nothing. You just send us off on these fucking missions, blind, and we all have to hope that that’s enough. That we’ll live to see another day. That we’ll make it home to our loved ones.”
Sirius paused to catch his breath. “You will not get away with using her like this, not anymore, not by me.”
Dumbledore’s crystal blue eyes bore into Sirius’ stormy grey ones. After a few moments, he offered him a subtle nod. 
“Where is she?” He repeated, quieter this time.
“Sirius, the truth is that I do not know.”
Sirius groaned. “How can you not know!? Fine, fine. Who is your contact? Apparently, someone who was in league with the Black’s for the stupid fucking house-elf to betray me like this. So, who is it? Narcissa? Finally tired of the bleach fumes from that husband of hers? It can’t be Bellatrix.” 
Dumbledore pursed his lips as he considered Sirius.
“It’s not Bellatrix, is it?” He asked in quiet disbelief. 
“No, son, it is not Bellatrix.”
“’Kay well, tell me who it is, then. Reg’s dead so you’re leaving me with dear old Cissy here.” 
Dumbledore leaned onto his forearms on his desk as he peered at Sirius over his half-moon spectacles. 
“A house-elf will always be the most loyal to the head of the house it serves.” 
Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, well my house-elf just up and fucked-off with the love of my life so I’d say his loyalty doesn’t exactly align with...me...” He trailed off as something seemed to dawn on him. 
“Unless I’m not the head of the house.” 
Remus’ neck snapped as he whipped his head to regard his friend. 
“The deed and the vault at Gringotts were all moved to you, Sirius, you’re the head of the house.” 
Sirius never pulled his gaze away from the headmaster. “Goblins can be tricked, and deeds can be forged.” He whispered. “But house-elf magic...” 
Dumbledore leaned back into his chair. 
“But Regulus is dead. He was pronounced dead – your mother offed herself because he was pronounced dead.” Remus argued. 
“He was assumed dead.” Dumbledore corrected.
“Holy fucking shit.” Sirius breathed. 
“Regulus has been in contact with me since this past spring. It appears that Miss. L/N was the turning point for him in this war.”
Sirius stared in bafflement. “What do you...” 
“You may, one day, need to discuss with your brother. However, what he explained to me,” Dumbledore started. “Is that he had discovered Riddle’s secret of the horcruxes after becoming increasingly disenchanted by his rhetoric. He was intent on defeating Riddle himself, but came to me when he found Y/N.” 
The colour drained from Remus’ face. “You knew? All this time.”
Dumbledore turned his gaze to the lycanthrope. 
“You knew!?” He repeated.
“You must understand, I could not remove her from Riddle’s ranks without rousing suspicion from the other Death Eaters who knew she was there. We were also becoming increasingly aware of a spy within our ranks and could not jeopardize the intel by alerting the Death Eaters of our own spy.” 
“I can’t fucking believe this.” Sirius cried out. “You let her suffer there so you could keep the upper hand!”
“It was for the greater good.”
“Fuck that!” Sirius barked. “Fuck that and fuck you!”
“You do not understand how differently this could have all played out without her, Sirius.” 
Remus scoffed. “Oh the ‘could’s’, professor, really? We can sit here until our dying breath discussing all of the fucking could’s that could have taken place from the beginning of fucking time itself and it would mean nothing.” 
“I don’t care what could have happened.” Sirius interjected. “You should have protected her. Protected all of us.” 
Dumbledore looked between his two former students as he seemed to come to some kind of decision. 
“The five horcruxes that Y/N brought us have been destroyed. I do not want to give Riddle time to realize that they are gone. I have discussed with our allies what will need to happen next.” Dumbledore stated.
“And what will need to happen next, professor?” Sirius sneered. 
“It appears that Mr. Pettigrew told Riddle he would be the secret keeper by their next meeting.” Dumbledore said as Sirius swallowed bile rising in his throat. “I believe it would be best to lure Riddle out when he does not feel the need for an army.” 
Remus leaned forward in his chair. “How do we do that?”
Dumbledore pursed his lips. “It would be best if Riddle remained unaware of our knowledge of Peter.”
“I think he’s going to figure it out when he misses their next club meeting.” Sirius scoffed. 
“Unless he goes.” Remus murmured. 
“Over my dead body do we release that rat bastard.” Sirius growled. 
“I agree, Mr. Black, I do not believe we should entrust Peter. However, there may be another way.”
Sirius looked at Dumbledore blankly. “Tell me, headmaster, do you plan on breaking out some unforgiveables? Because short of imperio, I’m not sure-”
“Polyjuice.” Remus blurted.
Sirius whipped his head to his friend in shock, whilst a twinkle of pride appeared in Dumbledore’s eye. 
“We could keep up the ruse.” Remus explained. 
“I’ll go.” Sirius claimed.
Remus groaned. “Pads, do you really think you’re the best person for this job?”
Sirius looked at Remus with a look of ill-hidden betrayal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sirius, this is the most sensitive mission possibly anyone will ever have to take. You are passionate but you have a tendency to go in guns blazing and this is not the setting.” 
“I’ll be fine.” Sirius argued.
“You are going to hear and see things that will infuriate and you will not be able to react. You will have to put your morals aside.” 
“Rem, honestly, I grew up with the pureblood bullshit, I can handle it.” Sirius insisted.
“It nearly killed you, Pads. I was there when you showed up at the Potter’s.”
“Remus, I’m going.”
“Perhaps it should be me.” Remus stated as if Sirius hadn’t said anything at all.
“Are you insane?”
“Obviously the answer to that is yes but listen: no one would be able to use legillimency on me due to lunar magic, I stand a better chance at keeping a level head, and I’m perhaps just a touch less emotionally invested in this than you are.” Remus argued.
“Besides,” he continued, “I’ve spent my entire life pretending that I’m not a monster. I’m sure I can pretend to be one for a little bit.”
“You’re not a monster.” Sirius sighed.
Remus gave him a sad smile. “See? I’ve fooled you all.”
Dumbledore hummed. “I think Mr. Lupin may be right, Sirius. Perhaps you should trust him with this.”
“Of course I trust him, but-” Sirius started, turning to look at Remus. “I can’t lose you too.” He admitted quietly.
Though the sentiment caused a twinge of pain in Remus’ chest, he couldn’t waste an opportunity to razz his mate. “Awe, Pads. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.” He cheeked as he pinched Sirius’ arm. 
“Oh, sod off you wanker.” Sirius muttered and crossed his arms. 
“I suppose it’s settled.” Dumbledore claimed. “Please await my correspondence with further instructions.”
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October 29th
“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” James could be heard muttering as he paced the family room of 12 Grimmauld Place. 
“Why isn’t Dumbledore doing this himself?” Lily muttered darkly. 
“I’m not leaving Y/N in his hands, not again.” Sirius murmured into his hand as he stared at the fire. “It should be me going. Remus, I should go.” 
With a sigh, Remus stood from the wingback chair. “No, Pads. It’s too late to change the plan now. It’s going to be fine.”
Sirius shook his head and looked at the ceiling. 
“She’s fucking strong, Sirius. And she’s got more people on her side this time. We’re gonna finish this.” Remus pressed.  
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and everyone took a steadying breath. 
“Be careful, Rem.” Lily tearfully murmured as she gave him a hug. 
“I hate this.” James repeated just as quietly as he too hugged the lycanthrope. 
Remus smiled at them both before he moved to Sirius, who had shifted his gaze back to the fire. 
“We’re close, Pads.” He whispered.
Sirius nodded, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Thank you, Moony. For going after her.”
“She’s pack.” Remus said simply causing Sirius to let out a shuddering breath.
“Be careful.”
Remus nodded in agreement and took a swig from his pocket flask. He grunted slightly as he felt his body shifting and changing, but it was nothing close to the pain he experienced every full moon. 
Sirius, Lily, and James all looked in various levels of disgust as Remus – now in the form of Peter Pettigrew – stood to his full height. “How do I look?”
The three friends looked at each other awkwardly before turning back to Remus...Peter?
“Fuck, this is weird.” James muttered.
“Yeah, honestly mate, I think you should go.” Sirius agreed.
Remus rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not actually him, right?”
Lily grimaced. “Yeah, yeah Judas. Get going.” 
Sirius and James looked at her inquisitively, but Remus snorted a laugh offering everyone a wave as he stepped into the street. He walked a short distance to a hidden alleyway where he could apparate to the location of the Death Eater meeting. Remus sent one silent prayer to any god who’d listen. 
Please let this go smoothly. 
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 Lestrange Manor loomed dauntingly in front of Remus as he tried to muster the courage to walk up the brick path leading to the door. Purebloods and their gaudy houses he mused silently.
“Petty-Pettigrew!” A voice sing-songed behind him, causing him to turn. 
Barty Crouch Jr skipped towards him merrily as if he were an alt-punk Dorothy on his way to Oz. He paused in front of Remus and tapped his cheek twice, slightly too hard to be considered just condescending and bordering on aggressive. “How’s our favourite little rat?”
Remus grimaced but tried to play it off as a smile. “Er, I’m-”
“Oh, Salazar. No, I don’t actually care.” Barty chuckled, looking back at his entourage like can you believe this guy? His friendly façade fell as he turned back to Remus. “Better have something for the Dark Lord today, otherwise we’ll find other uses for our little lab rat.” He finished with a slimy wink as he continued up the path to the manor. 
Well, Remus thought, welcome to Hell, I suppose. 
He followed Barty The Deranged and company up the walkway, fighting the urge to hum: We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz as he went.
If Remus thought the outside of Lestrange Manor was counteracting the anti-depressants coursing through his system, the inside of it made him want to grab the closest silver fork and end it all. He walked along what had to be a fourty-foot table trying to find the best seat before he realized that this was the wrong approach – every seat was terrible.
“Don’t be absurd, Pettigrew.” Mulciber sneered at Remus. “A lowly like you stands at the back.”
Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded, moving to stand near the wall by the door. At least I’ll be close if I need a quick exit. He also fought the biting urge to lunge at the sight of Fenrir Greyback. You’re here for a reason, Lupin.
Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the...Remus didn’t know what the hell purebloods wont to call rooms like this...a grand room? A dining room? A reception hall? Whatever it was called, it fucking sucked, and it sucked worse when those three walked in. The brothers mostly regarded themselves with proper decorum, but Bellatrix and her certain flare seemed to suck the air out of the room causing everyone to stand a little more at attention. 
Bellatrix Lestrange walked like she was the Queen of Hearts attending her own coronation. She smiled wickedly at those seated around the table, pausing briefly to share terse words with Lucius Malfoy, before then double-cheek-kissing his wife and her sister, Narcissa. 
There seemed to be some sort of disagreement about who should sit in one of the two seats at the head of the table next to the Dark Lord’s seat (throne for all intents and purposes), but a silent conversation that passed between Bellatrix and her brother-in-law resulted in the latter finding another chair.  
Voldemort walked into the room and those who had been sitting stood suddenly, falling deathly silent as Voldemort moved to stand at the head of the table. The sickening smell of dark magic accosted Remus who felt his eyes water; he swallowed hard against his gag reflex as a giant python type snake slithered its way into the room.
If there was ever any speculation that Nagini was the sixth horcrux before, Remus now felt confident that he could confirm it.
“My Lord.” Rodolphus said reverently as he bowed his head. Remus watched as the rest of the room did the same, and quickly followed suit – he wanted to throw up. 
Remus’ plan of attack here was to be as non-descript as possible. He was here for one reason – tell Voldemort he was the secret keeper and plan a course of ‘attack’ on the Potter home in Godric’s Hollow – otherwise, he was to be invisible. He could not be invisible if he was angry, and if he listened too closely, he’d get angry, so...
He almost missed it when Voldemort addressed him.
“Now, I trust that you were successful in your task?” Voldemort’s voice echoed through the room, sounding more like an actor in a Greek tragedy than a tyrannical fascist leader addressing his followers.
A throat cleared before something hit Remus on the shin. He looked up and realised everyone’s eyes were on him. 
“Oh erm, uh yes. My apologies...my Lord...” He tried to regain his footing. “Uhm, I was successful. I am officially the Potter’s secret keeper.”
Bellatrix barely waited until the end of the sentence to stand and begin cackling maniacally. “We’re going to kill the child! We’re going to kill the child!” She sang as she jumped and clapped her hands. 
Voldemort hardly spared Bellatrix a sideways gaze as he lifted one hand – she fell silent and returned to her seat, continuing to smile and wiggle as if it were difficult to keep her obvious joy at bay. 
“Though I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he began, “I’d like to eliminate this specific threat myself.” 
By the end of the sentence, he was offering Remus a chilling smile. Remus worked to keep his breathing even as he tried to reciprocate it. 
“Where is this hide away located?” Voldemort asked.
“Erm, Godric’s Hollow, m’Lord.”
“You will take me to them. You shall meet me in the town square at eight in the evening the day after tomorrow. We shall eliminate this threat to me once and for all.” 
“Any threat to you is a threat to all of us, my Lord.” Alecto Carrow said severely which was met with a muttering of agreement from around the table.
“You will all be rewarded greatly for your dedication and loyalty to me.” Voldemort declared, and Bellatrix began a round of applause. 
The meeting carried on and Remus ensured to take two more swigs of the Polyjuice potion to avoid turning back into himself prematurely. 
A black cat had materialized beside Remus at some point throughout the meeting and appeared to make itself at home beside his left foot. The feline seemed to watch as Remus would lift the flask to his mouth, and he became increasingly paranoid that this cat somehow knew he was an imposter. Was this cat a spy? Was this a spy cat who somehow knew Peter was caught for being a spy for the Death Eaters and that I, as a spy, came to this meeting as Peter as a spy for the Order pretending to be Peter who was acting as a spy for the Death Eaters.
Fuck, Remus was losing it.
Get a grip you stupid bastard. He scolded himself. 
The meeting appeared to conclude as Voldemort stood, and everyone followed suit. A few higher pointing Death Eaters seemed to congregate at the head of the table – Malfoy, the Lestranges, Mulciber, Snape, Nott, Goyle, and the Carrows encircled Voldemort. 
Remus began looking for the door when he felt the cat brush up against his leg. He looked down to the black cat who was peering back up at him – the eyes were light, nearly blue but not quite – and they looked disturbingly familiar. The cat seemed to be cocking an eyebrow at him, if cats could do such a thing, as Remus considered it.
“What?” Remus whispered.
“Make a habit o’ talkin’ to rodents, do ye Pettigrew?” The sickening sound of Greyback’s voice permeated Remus' hearing – as well as his other senses. Suddenly, Remus was four years old again, waking to the sound of screaming that turned out the be his own as a wolf locked its jaw upon his chest. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he thought of his mothers screams and sobs, begging the healers to do something – anything – to help her boy, whilst everyone murmured it’d be kindest to just ‘put the boy out of his misery’. 
“I do, actually,” Remus said, lacing his words with venom. “I’ve found they often make better company than a mangey wolf.” 
Greyback seemed taken aback as he considered Remus. 
“Why you little-”
“Ah, there you are, Splash.” A posh accent commented from Remus’ other side. He turned to see the form of Narcissa Malfoy bending to pick up the black cat. 
“Good work, Pettigrew.” She commented as Splash weaseled its way back out of Narcissa’s arms and took a few paces to the door. “Don’t let us keep you.” 
Remus nodded at Narcissa, feeling off kilter at her cordial behaviour; he couldn’t imagine Peter ever making friends with the likes of her. He moved toward the door and as he walked, he realized that the cat had paused and was watching Remus before carrying on ahead. 
Remus felt like he could finally take a deep breath once he stepped beyond the gated entrance of the manor. His peace didn’t last long when he realized the cat had paused again and was once again watching him.
“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” He muttered quietly.
The cat looked as though it rolled its eyes at him as he walked a few more feet ahead, turning back to Remus.
“Are you expecting me to follow you? I’m not as dumb as I look.” He commented again, though realizing too late that he may actually be as dumb as he looks, seeing as he was currently talking to a cat. 
He heard a low growl emanate from the cat’s chest before it turned and walked away without turning back this time to confirm Remus was following it. 
“It seems as though curiosity may kill the wolf today.” Remus muttered to himself as he begrudgingly followed the cat against every one of his instincts which were screaming at him to just get the fuck out of there.  
The cat stopped in a densely wooded area and seemed to scan the are before turning back to Remus, who in turn stood and stared at the cat dumbly. 
“I don’t see a pentagram anywhere, is this not where you plan to sacrifice me to the devil?” He asked as he too scanned the woods for potential threats.
“Salazar, you Gryffindor’s are bloody exhausting.” A voice rang through the woods. Remus whipped his head back towards the sound, and where the cat once stood was none other than Regulus Black.
“Holy fucking shit. You’ve got to be kidding me.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes, “and so eloquent, as always.” He muttered.
“What the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.” Remus seethed.
“Disappointed, are you?”
Remus gritted his teeth. “Where’s Y/N?”
Regulus’ eyes softened considerably, though his posture remained stiff as he considered Remus.
“Safe. That is all you need to know.” 
“Fuck that, Black. Where is she?” 
Regulus sucked in a breath, appearing to attempt to steady himself at having to deal with the likes of Remus. 
“The Dark Lord’s followers became aware that she was not as dead as they had previously assumed. We could not risk them searching for her.” Regulus admitted.
“How could they have known she wasn’t dead? The only person who could have reported that to them is Peter and he’s a little tied up right now.” Remus said darkly.
“My cousin’s little art project on her arm was done with a cursed blade – the dark magic left a trace on her. When Yaxley tried to claim that she had died while trying to escape from his hold instead of admitting he let her get away, Bellatrix was quick to prove him wrong.”
“What?” Remus asked in shock.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Good gods, which of you imbeciles did that old man send?” He asked before casting a quick finite over Remus. 
Remus felt the Polyjuice potion wash away from his form as he stretched out to his correct height. 
“Aren’t you wolves supposed to have superhuman hearing?” He asked condescendingly. 
“Fuck off.” Remus spat. 
“Now, now. There is no need for such language, Lupin; we are on the same side, after all.”
“Like fuck we are. You’re a marked Death Eater, and you abducted Y/N.” He spat. 
“I think it should be obvious by now that I have clearly defected here, Lupin.” Regulus responded.
“Why?”
This seemed to catch Regulus off guard. “Pardon?”
“Why defect?”
Remus watched as Regulus stared hard at him, when suddenly a filmy haze seemed to overtake Regulus’ grey eyes and his face grew hard. 
“I hardly think that is relevant.” 
The two men stared at each other sizing one another up. 
Remus felt conflicted. He knew Sirius hated his family, but Sirius never really could bring himself to hate Regulus – he was only a child, just like Sirius was. Regulus was a victim too. They were each dealt a shitty hand, but the way they played their cards were different. Regulus chose the path of least resistance by adapting and adhering to his parent’s wishes. Sirius rebelled, pushed back, and decided to fold, leaving the game altogether. 
Sirius wanted to hate Regulus; when he got his Dark Mark, and then again when he died. But he couldn’t bring himself to, because part of it felt like it was his fault; Regulus took the role that Sirius himself was born into – and in many ways, Sirius felt as though he forced his little brother into this. And in the end, it cost Regulus his life. 
But Remus, looking at Regulus now; having faked his own death, defected from not only his family’s legacy but also the reign of the 'Lord' that he had sworn himself to, all whilst helping the other side; how different were the two brothers, really? 
Twin Renegades. 
“Sirius is beside himself.” Remus admitted quietly. 
Regulus seemed pained by this admission.
“I wouldn’t have given her back yet if I knew it wasn’t safe.”
Remus’ heart stuttered. “Wait, you – you’re the one who brought her to Godric’s Hollow?”
He was responded with a single curt nod.
“But, but how? How did you know? The house is...”
“Y/N. She had described to me what she called ‘location seven’. I apparated her there.” 
Remus balked. Each Order team had several secret locations they would be able to travel to in case anything went sideways during a mission. Remus wasn’t as familiar, seeing as he was the only Order member who could attend his particular missions, but he had heard his friends discussing it before. Even Lily and Sirius didn’t know the areas of James and your secret locations; they were for your safety, and your safety only.
“Location seven was the cottage in Godric’s Hollow?”
“No, it was the wooded area behind it. I could feel the familiar sense of a fidelius charm nearby, so I brought her as close to it as I could before I ran, we...” Regulus heaved a sigh, “we had fought our way out, we’d barely made it.” 
“Where is she now?”
“She’s safe.”
“Regulus.”
“I’m sorry, Lupin. You may not believe me, but I am. I... I saved her because I could not watch the woman my brother loved die in front of me. I saved her for him, but the other’s discovered I had rescued her, and suddenly it became much bigger than him. I couldn’t just return her at the time.” Regulus admitted.
“The last time you saved her, she was hardly safe. How do we know she’s safe now?” Remus pleaded.
Regulus grimaced. “Again, the others had known I had rescued her last time. This time, they do not know she is here. They do not even know I am here.” 
“How is she safer with you than she is at home with Sirius? With us?”
“You moved five members of the Order plus an infant with a bounty on its head into one house. If they had gone searching for Y/N and found you, it would have been devastating for the cause.” He explained. “Listen; you will escort the Dark Lord to the Potter’s cottage in two days. He plans to attend with you as Peter Pettigrew, alone; he will show up unknowingly out numbered. He goes nowhere without Nagini, and we will be able to destroy the last horcrux before finally ending the Dark Lord’s reign of tyranny. She will be home to you soon.”
“What about you?” Remus asked.
Regulus’ eyebrows furrowed. “What about me?”
“When this is over, what about you?”
Regulus looked Remus up and down. “I hardly think it matters.”
“Of course it does; of course you matter.” 
Regulus’ eyes turned stormy. “Do not pretend to know anything about me, Lupin. I have never once mattered; not to my brother, hardly to my parents until I was the last one standing, never to Dumbledore, and rarely to the Dark Lord, lest my family’s money benefitted his cause.” 
“You matter to Sirius.”
“Enough!” Regulus shouted, seeming to forget himself. Remus was sure he’d never even heard of Regulus having ever raised his voice before. “Do not fuck this up, Lupin. We have one chance to end this.” 
And with a quick spin, Remus was left in the dense woods alone. He hadn’t noticed how late it was until now, the darkness seeping into his bones leaving him chilled in the late October evening. 
It didn’t exactly go well, but it sure could have gone a lot worse.
He walked towards where Regulus had been standing and noticed a small piece of parchment laying in the wet leaves. He picked it up and unfolded it. 
“Stay safe. 1, 2, 3. V.” 
It could have gone a lot worse.
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October 30th
Regulus sighed – he felt exhausted from the meeting with Remus Lupin yesterday. He hated raising his temper, it made him feel like Sirius; it made him feel like a Gryffindor. 
Regulus’ cat form pushed past a vine covered gate and entered a grandiose stone outbuilding before shifting back to his human form.
“Can Kreacher get master a drink before Kreacher leaves?”
Regulus sighed. “You should not return until this is over, Kreacher. My brother is surely not happy with you.”
The house-elf scoffed. “Kreacher is not afraid of blood-traitors. Besides, Kreacher serves the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black; Kreacher belongs at Grimmauld Place.” 
“Underestimate my brother, Kreacher, and it will be your head on the wall.” Regulus muttered.
“Now cousin, do try to keep your patience.” Narcissa said as she opened the door to her hidden library located in a small building behind the gardens of Malfoy Manor. 
You sat on a Victorian style settee in Narcissa’s library with a babbling Draco on your knee as you cast colourful butterflies above him, causing the toddler to coo and clap. 
“We’re in.” Regulus announced, causing your head to snap forward and Draco to make grabby hands at him. “This ends tomorrow.”
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Continue to part seven here.
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star-girl69 · 4 months
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New Romantics
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
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sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!
a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!
LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!
New Romantics - Taylor Swift
warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!
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Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.
The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.
It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.
You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.
You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.
The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.
The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.
This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.
There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.
Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.
“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.
The boy held out his hand.
“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”
Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.
Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.
The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.
You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.
He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.
You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.
“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”
You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.
Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.
You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.
She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.
Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?
Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?
“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”
The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.
“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”
He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.
“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.
“I said apologize, dumbass.”
He glares at Clarisse.
“You’re fucking insane.”
She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”
“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”
“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.
Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.
The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”
The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”
Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.
The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.
She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.
She brushes her thumb across her cheek.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”
She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.
Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.
—-
clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are
—-
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strawbvrriluv · 3 months
Text
Lovers or Foes?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴊᴇɴɴᴀ ᴏʀᴛᴇɢᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1K?
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴇɴɴᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʏᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇꜱ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴ��ᴛʜᴇʀ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅʀɪɴᴋɪɴɢ, ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ʜʏɴᴇꜱ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ, ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ
꧁༺ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ༻꧂
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I walked through the crowds or Paparazzi and fans screaming and yelling trying to get to me. Security huddled around me so I wouldn’t get hurt.
“Y/N OVER HERE!!”
Paparazzi yelled in every which way, I walked into the event and saw Jenna Ortega. It’s not that I didn’t like her, I actually really liked her. She always had something against me though.
Maybe it was because I was close with her co-star Percy Hynes White?
“Hey Y/n!”
Percy said as he pulled me into a side hug, I smiled and hugged him back. I felt stares on me as I looked and saw Jenna staring at me. Or what felt more like a glare.
Did she like Percy?
“Hi Percy!! It’s crazy outside”
I laughed breaking the hug to stand in front of him, he looked over and saw Jenna.
“Oh Jenna! Come over here!”
He waved her down as she reluctantly walked over to us and stood next to him.
“Hi Jenna! You look so beautiful tonight.”
I said softly smiling, I didn’t want her to hate me especially when I didn’t like Percy. Her eyes widened a bit, I swear I could see blush on her face.
“Oh. Thank you. You look- um.. Really beautiful”
She looked away as Percy did a small smirk towards her.
What was that about..?
“Thank you! I’m going to go get a drink, do you guys want to come?”
I raised an eyebrow softly as they nodded following me to the bar area. The music blared over our heads and the smell of alcohol became apparent.
“I have to use the bathroom I’ll be right back”
Percy told us, he left as me and Jenna sat down at a booth in the back area. A waitress came up to us, she looked to be about 18 years old. She has long blonde hair and green eyes.
She saw me and her eyes widened as blush crept over her face.
“U-Um.. What can I get you.. You two?”
The girl didn’t seem interested in Jenna the way she was with me and that seemed to tick her off.
“We’ll both take a vodka cranberry.”
Jenna glared softly at the girl as she gulped and rushed off. I furrowed my brows.
It wasn’t just Percy she didn’t like talking to me.. Maybe it was the attention not going to her?
“She was just doing her job Jenna I don’t think she meant to-“
Jenna cut me off with a look of annoyance.
“Of course she meant it. Did you see the way she was staring at you. Like you were-“
She cut herself off as she shook her head.
I was beyond confused, what was she talking about? What did she mean?
The waitress gave us our drinks as I smiled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her. She giggled and walked off her face super red.
Jenna gripped her glass as she drunk the whole entire bottle in one sip? Well more like gulp.
“Jenna are you okay?”
I looked at the girl in front of me, her eyes glaring at the waitress going around. She scoffed and looked at me.
“What’s so special about her? Why were you so nice to her but not me. What do you like her”
Jenna words sounded kinda of slurred, she was already tipsy.
Oh god
“What? What are you talking about Jenna. You’re drunk”
With that she chuckled angrily, her face coming closer to mine.
“I fucking hate seeing you with anyone else. Why don’t you understand that?”
Jenna said her brows furrowing as she realized what she said. She blinked a few times before backing away and going to leave.
“Jenna. Wait.”
I held her hand causing her to look back at me, blush rising on her face.
Oh. My. God.
“Jenna do you like me? Romantically?”
My voice was soft almost as if I was telling her a secret. My mind felt like I was spiraling, was this why she was always annoyed when other people were around me? Did she like me? Did I like her?
“I-… Y/n I’ve been in love with you since we met that one time. I mean I had a celebrity crush on you.. You’re so beautiful and I wish I was the one you liked not Perc-“
I cut her off.
“Woah. I don’t like Percy at all. He’s just a friend… Hell I thought you liked him.”
She widened her eyes as I laughed a bit, she shook her head.
“No way. I don’t like Percy.”
Her eyes softened as she looked at me smiling, her face became visibility nervous.
“D-do you like me as well?”
The once confident Jenna Ortega was now scared for what was to come. I didn’t know what to say.
“I-I think I do… I mean I get nervous around you, and giddy. I just thought you always hated me. Or-Or something.”
I said fiddling with my fingers as she lifted my chin up with her fingers to force me to look at her.
I looked at her as I gulped, her face moving closer to mine. Her lips hovered above mine for a moment.
“Can I kiss you?”
Her voice was soft as I nodded, she crashed her lips on me as my arms wrapped around her waist. She was 5’0 and I was 5’5 so I was a bit taller than she was. Yet she was wearing heels so we were about the same height.
Her lips tasted like her lipstick and Vodka Cranberry. After a few seconds she back away from the kiss her arms around my neck.
“I- Jenna. That was amazing..”
I said not sure what else to say, I could feel my cheeks burning with pink. My heart beating so fast I felt like Jenna could hear it.
“Y/n… I like you so much. You’re so beautiful, I could stare at you for hours like a painting in a museum.”
Jenna’s words tugged at my heart as my blush got worse. I looked away from her trying to hide my blush.
“I wish you told me sooner Jenna. This whole entire time I thought you wanted me like dead”
I giggled as we sat back down again, she shook her head as she sighed.
“I was so afraid. I saw how close you were to Percy and thought you two were a thing. Percy knew I liked you. And I think he would do stuff on purpose to make me jealous. Anyways… He told me that you were straight-“
I cut her off chuckling.
“I’m not straight at all. I made a passing comment about being straight as a joke and he took it seriously… Like for months he thought I was only into guys”
I shook my head as Jenna sighed.
“He’s just so clueless sometimes.”
I nodded agreeing with her. I was so happy I could finally have a conversation with Jenna and not have her pretend to hate me. Jenna started talking about something but I wasn’t paying attention.
I just kept staring at her. She was so beautiful.
“Y/n..?”
She said causing me to snap out of my daze. I blinked a few times embarrassed.
“Sorry..”
I said as she smiled at me, her lips on mine again. I kissed back.
“Wanna go to my hotel?”
I asked as she nodded frantically, I took her hand and held it as we walked across the event to the hotel. I decided to stay at the hotel for the night instead of having to drive back to my apartment.
We checked into my room as I closed the door making out with Jenna. I smiled and moved away to lock the door and place my things down. She sat on the bed staring at me as I took out my phone and took a picture.
“Did you just take a picture?”
Her cheeks flushed as I shook my head no.
“I have to use the bathroom”
I walked into the bathroom going onto instagram.
Y/N_insta
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Y/N_Insta I’m not talking about boys I’m talking about girls …💕
Tagged @Jennaortgea
As soon as I posted the post I heard Jenna gasp and run over and knock on the door.
“Y/n… Stop I’m going to sob”
I opened the door to a wide eyed teary Jenna, I pulled her into a hug as I kissed her forehead.
“Let’s go on some more dates to make it official okay?”
I said as she nodded hugging me.
I was now about to date the hottest girl I knew. I felt like I was on cloud nine.
I looked at my phone to see a notification.
Perc🗣️: Took you two long enough, finally you lovebirds are a thing.
I giggled reading his text as Jenna rolled her eyes playfully. This was all I ever needed and wanted.
A/N: Should I make this a series? 🩷
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delimeats-000 · 7 months
Text
Just the Editor
summary: chris teasing the podcast editor takes a little turn
warnings: language, make outs, dry humping
requested.
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im editing a podcast for THE sturniolo triplets. this is big, like huuge. these guys got me through senior year of hs, and now im their editor, like wtf.
on the set beyond the wall that divides us i can hear the guys laughing with one another.
they’ve been recording for about 2 and a half hours. they should be done soon and come check the final product of the last pod i edited.
soon enough they finish their current recording and come to the editors office.
“Hey y/n/n.” nick says.
“Hey nick.” i get out of my chair to hug him and greet the other boys. “Im pretty much done if you guys wanna take a peek on the last episode.”
“Oh i have a meeting with madi and laura that matts gonna drive me to.” nick hesitates. “If chris is up for it he can stay and watch.”
“Yeah i can come pick him up after the meeting.” matt chimes in.
“Ok sounds good.”
no it doesn’t, two of three triplets gone leaving me with the third that i just so happen to be absolutely smitten over.
matt interrupts my thoughts, “Alright cool. We’ll be back.”
“Be good Chris.” nick laughs before heading out the door and closing it behind him.
i turn to face chris. i hope to god he doesn’t see how nervous i am.
“Ok so you ready?”
“Uhh yeah, you got pepsi?”
“Yeah there should be some in the fridge downstairs.”
“You wanna lead me over there? Please?”
“Of course.” i stand up and quickly walk to the foor opening it for him.
“No no, ladies first.” he winks.
fuck.
“Thanks.” wtf, THANKS, dumbass.
he laughs tho, ok cool, play it cool.
we walk down the stairs and into the kitchen in silence.
“Do you want one or two?” i say bent over in the fridge reaching for his pepsi. he steps close behind me, resting his hand on my lower back.
“Lemme get two, just in case.”
“ok.” i feel weak, his hand feels so firm and strong.
compared to the cold room i was in his hand is hot and the temperature change makes me shiver.
“Are you ok?” he asks as i stand up.
“Yeah just cold.”
“Here take my sweatshirt.”
before i can decline the offer he’s already taking it off revealing a wife beater that lifts halfway up his torso as the sweatshirt comes off. my eyes go wide and i dont get the chance to fix my expression before he notices the blush on my face.
he laughs softly, “Here goof, put it on.”
i take the sweater and put it on.
“You look good.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, lets go watch the pod.”
“Yeah.”
my face is most definitely flushed, im hot, genuinely burning up and the sweater is making this worse now, but it smells so good. i cant take it off, not yet.
“Ok here you go.” i pass him my laptop and headphones so he can watch the pod on the loveseat in the office.
“Yo, you’re not gonna watch with me?”
“Uh, i guess i can.”
he scoots over and hands me the other headphone. he presses play. i cant even focus on the video in front of me, all i can think about is the fine ass man right next to me. shoulder to shoulder i swear i can feel his heart beat. there’s no way in hell im playing this cool. i just know im shaking. please god dont let him notice.
but he does anyways.
he pauses the video, “Is everything ok.”
i dont want to look him in the eyes, im gonna give it up. “Mhm, yeah.”
“Look at me.” he says quiet and gentle. but i dont look.
he grabs my face turning me towards him.
“I said look at me.”
he’s serious this time, his tone still quiet but now firm.
“Sorry.” i mumble.
“Shh, don’t apologize.” a smile grows on his face. “Whats on your mind?”
i shrug, struggling to make eye contact.
“Tell me, baby.”
im sure he could see the shock on my face because his subtle smirk turned into a soft chuckle.
“you’re pretty, chris.”
“You think so?”
i nod my head quickly.
“You’re beautiful, y/n.” he leans closer. “Can i kiss you?”
i nod once more before his lips land on mine.
he starts slow speeding up the kiss getting more rough. his tongue now caressing mine. he slowly runs his hand down to my neck and lets the other rest on my hip.
his sloppy kisses lead down my neck and i feel him leaving his mark. i let out a moan from the sharp pain, as i reach to grab his hair.
he bites harder making me let out another moan before he lets go, breathing hard he says, “Keep moaning for me, baby.”
“Yes sir.” i say as he goes back to making out with me.
i straddle his waist taking control grinding on his dick feeling the bulge grow larger.
“Fuck. Ke-keep going.”
now kissing down his neck and grinding against his hard cock, ive got him moaning for me.
then.
there’s a knock.
“Heeeyy.”
its nick. he opens the door to me struggling to get off chris. chris is completely unfazed as im absolutely embarrassed.
“Chris.”, matt laughs. “You didn’t.”
Nicks jaw completely dropped he turns around and walks out of the room.
Matt daps up chris before leaving too.
Chris stands up walking towards me, “Call me ok?”
i nod and he kisses my cheek before heading out the door.
i fall back onto the loveseat in utter disbelief.
“He forgot his sweatshirt.”
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dialogue key: nick - matt - chris - y/n
hope you like it, love you 🫶
EDIT: Pt 2 Out Now
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allyeardepression · 22 days
Text
@jegulus-microfic | april 18 sock | words: 585
tw: slight nfsw, walking in on someone, swearing
“Stop leaving your socks all over the place!” Sirius heard from the first floor.
“Stop being a dick; they’re on my side of the room!”
“Oh, trust me, I can be worse!” And then there was a loud thud, probably Regulus throwing something at James to prove that he could indeed be worse.
Sirius sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. It had been like that since the beginning of the holidays, because everyone forgot to rent a place with six rooms instead of five, so that James and Regulus could sleep separately. When the two of them found out, they reacted in two different ways: James didn’t mind (It’s not like we’ll be spending a lot of time here); Regulus, on the other hand, threw a tantrum like a five-year-old (I can’t share a bed with this asshole for the next six weeks). Unfortunately, there was no other way, since neither of them would sacrifice a comfortable bed to sleep on a couch in the living room. So for the past two weeks, all ten of them were doomed to listen to the senseless arguments the two others provided.
They were all getting tired of it—they came to Italy to rest, not to feel like children while their parents were getting divorced.
“I swear to god, if they don’t stop until tomorrow, at least one of them won’t come back to London,” Barty grumbled, handing a cup of orange juice to each one of his boyfriends. The girls hummed in agreement.
They sat at the big table in the kitchen, having breakfast. Dorcas and Marlene listed all the places they could go to today, while Lily and Pandora were serving more pancakes and scrambled eggs.
“I think the gallery and chapel sound the best,” commented Mary, throwing a grape at Peter, which he caught with his teeth.
After that, they sat in a comfortable silence, chewing on their respective meals.
The silence was almost… too comfortable.
“Do you think they killed each other?” Sirius asked, breaking the moment of peace.
“Who cares? At least they’re quiet,” Evan replied, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
Sirius turned to Remus, starting a silent conversation. After a few seconds, his boyfriend nodded and stood up, with Sirius following suit. They went upstairs, stopping in front of blue door. From behind them came quiet gasps and muffled words neither of them could understand.
The black-haired man knocked at the door gently. “Reggie? Prongs? Are you guys okay?” When, after nearly a minute, there was still no answer, he decided to enter the room.
“Guys, are you—what the fuck?” He was expecting everything: blood all over the place, black eyes, broken bones, shattered windows—everything except James holding one hand on Regulus’ throat, the other on his dick, his own probably inside Sirius' little brother.
All four of them froze, staring at each other with wide eyes, until the youngest finally grabbed the blanket laid in front of him, covering himself and James.
“Why the fuck would you come in without being allowed?” Regulus hissed.
“We thought you were dead,” Sirius answered, unnaturally calm. “I just wanted to check if you were alright.”
“Well, you know now, so get out,” the younger Black replied, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand. Sirius didn’t need much convincing to do so.
When Remus closed the door behind them, the shorter man turned to him.
“You know Moony,” he said, staring blankly. “I think I need to bleach my brain.”
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