#i promise i do love you and might follow again when the fuzz is over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theflyingfeeling · 2 years

Note

I'll try to change my request, so let's try 37 with Joonas/Niko 🤗

Well chosen, friend! 🥺

I gotta say, I really love writing stories like the one below; stories that leave just enough for the reader's interpretation. In this one there's quite a bit left to read in between the lines... ✨

37. I keep wishing for you on dandelions and you catch me one time (2042 words)

I wish you looked at me the way you look at the crowd every night, like it’s made out of gold and everything that glitters.

I wish you’d hold my gaze after every time we kiss on stage, so that I’d know you’re losing your mind over it too.

Joonas was sitting on the doorframe of their tour bus, twirling a fluffy white dandelion between his fingers.

He still remembered what his mother had once told him, when he’d been about five or six years old.

“Did you know, Joonas, that if you close your eyes and make a wish as you blow on one of these, your wish might come true?”

“Really?!” little Joonas had squealed, his thoughts instantly wandering to the cool toy truck with a crane he had seen in the supermarket the day before.

“Do you want to try?” his mother had asked, holding a dandelion to Joonas.

So Joonas did as his mother had advised and squeezed his eyes shut. He used all the capacity in his 5-year-old brain to focus on his heart’s current desire, filled his lungs with air and puffed at the flower in his mothers hand. When he opened his eyes again, only a few tufts remained, and his mother blew the rest into the air.

“Hey! It’s my dandelion! Find your own!”

“I was just helping you out,” his mother had smiled.

“But you don’t know what I wished for!”

His mother had said nothing more, only caressed Joonas’ chubby cheek, and Joonas had spent the rest of the day sulking at her for ruining his first ever dandelion wish.

“I promise I won’t intervene this time,” his mother had said in an attempt to make him try again, but Joonas had turned a deaf ear to her appeasement. The incident had been forgotten the next day, although Joonas had strongly refused to touch a dandelion again, until his faith had been restored when his grandparents had paid them a visit a few weeks later, bringing with them the toy truck of his dreams. Since then he had relied on dandelions in every turning point of his life.

Such was the case now, as Joonas looked at the ripe flower, trying to decide how to word his wish.

I wish you wouldn’t let go of me so soon when you hug me.

I wish the moment we shared backstage yesterday had meant something; that your lingering touch had meant something; that you don’t show that soft side of you to anyone else but me.

I wish you liked me more than just a friend.

“Hey, Porko, we’re about to start the soundcheck!” Joonas was pulled back to reality when Joel shouted at him from the back door of their venue of the evening.

Sighing, Joonas settled for an incoherent combination of all his yearnings and blew the dandelion. Then he stood up and followed Joel to the dark of the venue.

I wish you’ll always laugh at my stupid jokes.

I wish you weren’t so quick to laugh it off when we drink too much and accidentally get boners while grinding on the dance floor.

I wish you’d have stayed longer in my bunk this morning.

Joonas’ ears were still ringing from all the loud noises of the concert as he leaned against the tour bus and took another drag on his cigarette. His other hand was clutching the now bald dandelion, its fuzz long gone with the wind.

Why was it so easy to express his feelings to a damn flower, but when Niko looked at him with his eyes brighter than the northern lights, the words got caught somewhere in Joonas’ throat and never saw the light of day? If Joonas hadn’t known any better, he would have started doubting the power of dandelions again; it was beginning to look like Niko was too far out their reach, after all.

It was eating him alive, to have Niko so close, yet it sometimes felt like he was miles away, heading somewhere Joonas wasn’t sure he was supposed to follow him.

“Joonas?”

He had no idea when Olli had appeared next to him, his shoulder pressed against the tour bus as he faced Joonas.

“‘Sup,” Joonas acknowledged him.

“You good?”

Joonas couldn’t stop the sad chuckle breaking out of his mouth.

“I’m alright,” he replied nevertheless and took one last drag before dropping his cigarette on the pavement and putting it out.

“You sure? You’ve seemed..off, lately.”

It was foolish to assume his oldest friend would not have noticed his lovesick exploits. That is why Joonas only exhaled deeply, trusting it would speak louder than his words could have in that moment.

“Is there something I could do to help? At all?”

The offer made Joonas smile again; Olli may have been a bit of a simpleton sometimes, especially when intoxicated, but damn if he wasn’t a great friend.

“Hand me that, will you?” Joonas pointed at the lone dandelion sprouting in between the asphalt and the concrete wall of the venue.

“This?” Olli said as he ripped the flower off its barren seedbed.

Olli held out the dandelion for Joonas, but instead of taking it from his hand, Joonas wrapped his own fingers around Olli’s fist.

“I’m gonna need your help a little.”

“Uh-huh?” Olli’s confused smile told Joonas the bassist had no clue of his intentions.

“I need you to close your eyes and empty your mind,” Joonas ordered, then added with a lower tone: “...which should be easy enough for you.”

“Hey!” Olli exclaimed, but his eyes were already closed. “Okay, now what?”

“Blow on the flower when I say ‘now’, alright?”

“Alright,” Olli shrugged.

Then Joonas closed his own eyes, clearing his own mind of anything else but a pair of emerald eyes.

I wish you’d come to me tonight.

“Now,” he commanded, and together they blew on the dandelion, sending the white seeds twirling in the air.

Perhaps another person’s contribution was just what was needed to strengthen the magic of dandelions to affect even someone as magical as Niko?

The more Joonas stared at the dandelion, the more it began to look like an oil painting. Something hot rolled down his cheek and he caught it with his thumb just before it would have fallen down and hit the ground.

I wish I could forever fall asleep playing with your hair.

I wish the warmth of the mattress next to me wasn’t the only evidence of your presence when I wake up.

I wish I knew what it means when you don’t even look at me the whole day, then once the sun sets you’re in my space again and it kills me a little more than it did the day before.

Joonas didn’t know how he was supposed to wrap his head around it, around Niko. He only knew that he wanted to wrap his arms around the man and keep him there for as long as he could help it, with his nose buried in Niko’s hair and his ear pressed against Niko’s temple, if for nothing else but a creative attempt to hear Niko’s thoughts.

They say that the eyes are the window to one’s soul, but Niko’s, albeit dazzling and intense, could sometimes be so dark and unreadable that Joonas could only dream of knowing what was going on behind them.

Holding on to the thought, Joonas took in a quick breath and blew the dandelion fuzz into the air. His watery eyes followed them as far as they could against the orange sunset sky, until they disappeared from his sphere of vision and all Joonas could see were tiny flying bugs buzzing around in the spring evening.

Joonas glanced at the instrument case next to him, resting against the back tire of the tour bus. For a second he considered taking out his guitar and strum his sorrows away while the others were enjoying the headline concert inside the venue, but then his eyes fixed on the only remaining dandelion growing on the small patch of grass next to the parking lot.

He crouched to pick it up, and that’s when he realised he wasn’t alone.

There had been no footsteps, but Joonas would recognize the shape of the shadow any day, anywhere.

“Wishing on dandelions or what?”

Joonas quickly wiped his nose on his wrist and stood up, crushing the stem of the dandelion in his palm.

“What if I was?” he chuckled. The lump in his throat was suffocating him when he turned to look at Niko; his eyeliner was smudged, his long hair was a mess and there was a sway to his step when he walked closer to Joonas.

The sight was eerily imperfect and all Joonas could make himself look at in that moment.

“I’d expect nothing less from you, Porko,” Niko grinned and didn’t seem to be able to stop his feet from dragging himself to Joonas, so close his nose almost bonked on Joonas’ chest. Niko giggled to himself as he leaned against Joonas, and from the light melody of Niko’s laughter Joonas could tell it was going to be one of those nights again.

The kind of night that made Joonas feel foolish for believing in such things as dandelion wishes the morning after, until he’d feel Niko light up a sparkle of hope inside him with the faintest of touches once again.

But when Niko looked up at Joonas and stared into his eyes, Joonas noticed he maybe wasn’t quite as drunk as he appeared to be.

“What do you wish for, then, dreamer boy?”

I wish you knew.

“I can’t tell, obviously,” Joonas forced his trembling lips into a smile. “They won’t ever come true if I do.”

Niko kept their gazes locked, and in that moment it felt as if Joonas’ whole universe consisted of this gorgeous man and the dandelion he was still clasping in his hand.

“Does it work?” Niko asked quietly. “Have any of your dandelion wishes come true recently?”

I wish I knew how to tell you.

Joonas shook his head.

“How come?”

I wish I knew why.

“Maybe they’re on it, but so far no luck.”

Niko nodded, like Joonas’ explanation was in any way plausible.

“But you’ll keep trying still?”

I wish I wouldn’t have to.

“I have to,” Joonas said.

“Why?”

Niko’s eyes kept staring into his, until for the briefest moment they focused at something below Joonas’ nose.

I wish you could see it.

“Because I don’t know what else to do.”’

The green eyes were back on Joonas’ then, disarming Joonas from the defence he never had to begin with.

“About what?”

Joonas didn’t want to make himself believe the fierce, almost knowing look Niko gave him was nothing else but the makings of his vivid imagination and wishful thinking.

“I…” Joonas tried, but the harder he begged for the words to come out, the farther away they hid somewhere inside him.

His fingernails dug into his palm as he kept holding on to the dandelion.

I wish–

He never got to finish his wish, the one he had been saving for when he would be most desperate.

Because in the blink of an eye, he had no dandelion to wish on; with a quick motion, Niko snatched the flower from his grip, lifted it to his lips, and with one sharp puff of air he blew it free of the white tufts, never breaking eye-contact with Joonas.

And in the next blink of an eye, Joonas felt hands on his cheeks and a pair of lips on his own.

Hundreds of dandelion wishes sent off with the spring breeze, and the one stolen right out of his hands ended up being the one finally fulfilling them. Joonas would have laughed at it, had his mouth and vocal chords not been otherwise occupied.

When they broke the kiss, Niko’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes looked even wilder than before. Even halfway into getting lost in them, Joonas could see Niko’s lips moving and hear his voice speaking, quiet and soft, but the sound would ring in his ears for days, weeks, years to come:

“I wish for you.”

#blind channel #blind channel rpf #blind channel fanfiction #spring fluff by theflyingfeeling #a bit of joonas & olli too because why not! 🥰#i don't often repeat words but when i do it's for poetic purposes

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some-random-loki-stan · 3 years

Text

The Man Needs His Cat

Bucky x fem!reader

Word count: 1,960

Warnings: mentions of animal death, fluff, Tony/Bucky interaction

Summary: Bucky and Reader stumble across a kitten in the woods and Reader is tasked with asking Tony for a huge favor.

A/N: y'all- I'm head over heels in love with catperson!Bucky

The situation had to be dealt with carefully, (Y/n) knew. She didn't want to come on too strong or he'd be quick to turn her down. Maybe a hypothetical would be the best course of action... She took a breath and pulled her shoulders back. Then, with only a second of hesitation, she entered Tony's lab.

He greeted her from his hunched over position at one of the many cluttered tables, barely sparing her a glance. In the heat of engineering, he worked on some odd piece of tech he had yet to fully present to the team. She echoed a small 'hello' back and rocked awkwardly back and forth on her feet.

Still not looking up, Tony indulged the girl with idle conversation. They spoke of their day, of current world news, of the weather. That's how he knew she wanted something. The girl would always engage him in casual conversation just before asking a favor. Tony didn't mind much, of course. If anything, he found it entertaining how intently she tried buttering him up. But today he had quite a bit of work to get done so he wanted to get this show on the road.

Putting his tools down, he looked at her pointedly with a knowing grin. "Alright kid, what's up?" He asked.

(Y/s)'s eyebrows raised in question, playing dumb. "What do you-"

"Drop the act, (Y/n)," he chuckled, and grabbed an already greasy rag off the desk next to him to wipe his hands. He stood and made his way to her, tossing the rag back on one of the several tables in the lab. "I know when you want something, so just go on. Ask." He said, his face light with a smirk.

(Y/n) flushed with warmth, embarrassed by his boldness. But she continued anyway, determined to fulfill her promise to Bucky.

The night before, she and Bucky were on their way home from the movies. It was a beautiful night out and in their comfortable silence, they found themselves on a slight detour through the woods. At some point, Bucky had pulled over off the side of the road and onto a look out.

Bucky, ever the silent communicator, simply stared at (Y/s) confused face with the softest smile on his own, before stepping out of the car. While (Y/n) scrambled to open her door, Bucky walked the couple of feet towards a barrier fence overlooking the river beneath him. His eyes followed the shine of the water as it drowned the boulders lining the river bed. He thought for a second how exciting the challenge of rock hopping sounded, never really having gotten the chance to as a child.

The call of an owl pulled his attention to the tree line which he observed with such intensity that (Y/n) nudging his arm made him tense. She flashed him a smile to calm the surprise on his face and in an instant, his arm was around her, pulling her close. They both looked out at the shadowed woods and (Y/n) was even sure to point out the moon and stars themselves.

In the silent moments that passed, they both had turned to embrace each other wholly. They stayed like that for a moment and then Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead. Pulling back to look at his warm, loving face, she found acute concern instead. He was glancing just past her head, off into the bush leading down to the river bank.

"What's the mat-" she asked quietly, shrinking away.

Bucky pressed his fingers to his lips and hushed her quickly and gently and then slowly gestured to his ear. Listen, he was telling her.

She didn't hear anything at first. Nothing but the rush of the river below them and the gentle night breeze above them.

But then, just as she was about to ask again, she heard it. The faintest of mewling. Barely audible but definitely there.

Bucky grasped her shoulders and looked her in the eyes once more before he squeezed them tightly and moved past her. He approached the thicket and hesitated for only a second before pressing forward. The branches hurt his skin but he'd suffered worse.

(Y/n) tentatively called his name to which he responded "I've almost got it." His voice sounded distant and strained and it worried (Y/n) that she could no longer see him through the darkness, being so close to the river and all. But as long as she could hear his grunts of discomfort from the branches whacking him in the face, she remained calm enough.

Eventually, he emerged. Even in the dark, (Y/n) could see the pure white fluff sticking out between Bucky's fingers. As he approached, the fuzz ball revealed its face from its careful hiding spot in the crook of Bucky's arm and glanced around. Two dark eyes and the palest little nose swung in her direction, its whiskers twitching with cautious curiosity.

A kitten.

The poor thing was trembling but so was Bucky. Placing a hand on his forearm, she beckoned his attention and spoke low.

"What was it?"

To bide his time, he shifted the kit closer to his chest and took a deep breath. He didn't meet her eyes but he mumbled just loud enough to hear.

"A whole box of them but…." He didn't dare finish the sentence and instead held the kitten in front of his face, ignoring the unwarranted feeling of loss he felt for its siblings. Swallowing hard, he finally met the girls soft, understanding eyes and smiled sadly.

Before she could say anything, the small creature let out another indignant mewl that seemed to reassure Bucky just a bit. With that, (Y/n) moved to his side and slung her arm around his waist.

"Alpine," he mumbled.

"What's that?"

"I think I'll call him Alpine." Bucky said fondly. His eyes never left the baby and the girl knew he was in deep.

"Oooh, I know that look." She tittered. Bucky only stared, his eyebrow creased, questioning. "That's the way you look at someone you love. That's the way you look at me." She said with a blush, nudging him lightly.

His face melted into that soft loving one she cared for so dearly. The kitten settled into the warmth that embraced him as the couple kissed.

"Let's get a move on. It's getting colder and colder by the second and I'm sure this little guy agrees." The kitten mewled one last time.

With a light chuckle, they spared one last glance over the look out before returning to the car where Alpine slept peacefully in Bucky’s lap the whole way home.

The two couldn't help but discuss what they were going to do with little Alpine. Bucky was set on keeping it and had even decided to clear his schedule the next day to make a vet visit. The only issue was their living space. They weren't too sure how Tony would react to them bringing a cat in off the street. But the girl could see how much the kitten meant to Bucky already so she promised to talk to Tony in the morning.

Well, morning came and now here she was.

Tony crossed his arms impatiently. "Well?" He pressed, tilting his head up.

(Y/n) anxiously grasped her hands in front of her and leaned forward a bit. "What would you say to the idea of us getting a pet?" She stared openly at his face as he stared back at hers. The question bounced around in Tony's head, leaving his eyebrow slightly creased and the room painfully quiet. (Y/s)' nervously raised eyebrow gave him a clue into the situation.

"Right….and who exactly is this 'us' you're referring to? Cause something tells me I'm actually being iced out of this decision." Before she could even get a full breath in, he continued on. "All right, what are we working with, huh? A rabbit? A goldfish? If it's a parakeet, it won't even get past the front door, so help me god."

The girl shook her head as she let out a laugh. She could tell he wasn't overly fond of the idea. It was clear by the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. But judging by the way his voice didn't fall completely flat, he wasn't opposed to it either….not entirely, anyway.

"No, no. Not quite. It's a cat. A kitten, actually, so there's still time to train it and all," She reassured him. "And Bucky should be getting home any minute from the vet with him if you'd like to say hello."

Tony caught himself before he let his expression drop at the name of the elusive ex soldier. He'd gotten better at watching himself since the two of them moved in. Bucky and (Y/n) weren't together when they did, but being only a few steps down the hallway certainly allowed them a closer relationship.

Tony nodded his head reluctantly and dropped his arms to his sides.

He followed the girl down the various halls as she recounted how they found the poor kit, and found themselves approaching the common room. Or the family room, as (Y/n) preferred to call it, while simultaneously prattling on about how much time and energy the team wastes pretending to hate each other. Huh.

They could hear the tinkling of a bell being wacked around from down the hallway. As they entered the room, they stopped in the archway and took in the sight before them.

Bucky sat crisscrossed with his back to them. In his hand was a feather wand, standing out bright purple, blue, and white against the dark brown floor. In front of him, white fluff darted back and forth. There was the smallest sound of tearing as its tiny claws ripped against the carpet, no doubt leaving it frayed.

Tony tried his very best to suppress his dissatisfied grumble...

They watched for a bit as Bucky went back and forth with the kitten. Tony didn't have to look hard at all to see how much the ex soldier cared for the tiny thing. No only because of his undivided attention towards the cat but also because of the many beige bags labeled "PetsPlus+" full of toys, treats and towers scattered around the sofas.

He thought it might be good for Bucky to have another companion around. Maybe it would help him relax. Maybe even lighten up a bit.

Tony stepped forward.

"So, uh, I'm not a big fan of funky smells so that's got to be top priority as far as pest control goes with this thing, alright?"

Bucky jumped to his feet and Alpine followed suit, hackles raised. Bucky quickly scooped him up and held him close. "Of course." (Y/n) made her way over to them. "Our rooms are big enough to keep him there most of the time and we have already worked out all the responsibilities between us. We've got it covered."

Tony stepped back a bit looking them up and down, humming. "I expect weekly visits in the family room," he said pointedly, then waved his hand. "Keep it tidy, folks." And with that he left the couple to their new fascination.

Tony lingered at the doorway on the way out. While the couple was distracted, he found himself watching that wretched arm. The dark, intimidating metal turned soft and gentle as it reached out fearlessly to antagonize the tiniest, weakest thing in the room. No hesitation, no fear. Not in Bucky or the kitten. Tony knew then that it stayed, no question.

The man needed his cat. And damn it, he'll get it.

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

pancakes & promises {finnick odair}

ok i don’t normally write for the hunger games but here is some morning fluff for 2 of my faves, @karasong & @megmeg-chan (based on meg’s request). i hope you enjoy💕

warnings: none...except swearing

The mornings were always one of Finnick’s favourite times.

Things were quiet; calm and quell, worlds away from his hectic past and tainted memories. Finnick was never without a charming smile or flirty comment but behind his endearing exterior, there was a vortex of dark memories. The warm blue eyes you often caught staring at you had seen worlds of pain. The large hands that were the source of half his affection had once wielded weapons. He’d become so used to the noise - of the arena, of the war, of his own thoughts - that the silence was almost strange. He’d spent years trying to escape it, trying to fill it with the sound of gentle music and white noise and the low fuzz of the radio but nothing had worked.

Then there was you. Between his arms underneath cover of the darks, head buried in his neck as you gently snored. The tickle of your breath against his bare skin and hands softly gripping onto his arms was an anchor. With your legs tangled underneath the sheets with his and your warmth beside him, he wasn’t afraid of the silence anymore. If anything, it was something he began to appreciate. It was a sign of change - change for the better. Most of which had been brought on your presence in his life. You were a barrier to the past, really. A definitive and constant existence intertwined with his that protected him from the bad parts of history. It was contained nicely in two parts: before you and after you. It was the latter he was so desperately holding onto, more than willing to throw the other into the abyss.

Finnick had woken that morning as usual; naturally, thanks to the sunlight leaking through the blinds. If you weren’t wrapped up in his arms, usually thanks to your tendency to roll away in the night, he’d reach out for you without thinking. Instead of being met with your warm skin, his fingers came into contact with the sheets. They were cold - you must have been gone a while. He immediately sat up, a frown etched on his features. You were never gone. Why were you gone?

Then he heard you - in the kitchen, kettle going and singing quietly. That was another thing he wasn’t used to: domesticity. Someone to look after him, instead of it constantly being the other way around. Finnick made a point to care for you and look out for you, and he would have done it even if you’d completely denied him of love, but you didn’t. It was a relationship of equals. And equals didn’t often come along in these times.

Wrapping the sheet around his waist, he slipped out of bed and padded through to the kitchen. You were stood by the cooker, his shirt hanging off of your shoulders and a song playing quietly on the radio.

It was one of those moments he couldn’t really explain; it was so simple, so domestic and sweet, but one he was happy to stay in forever. He’d experienced everything else in life - moments of heroic grandeur, moments of great loss - but somehow, it was the little things he wanted to hold onto. The sight of you in the morning; the smell of your body wash on your skin after a shower; the feeling of your soft hands tracing the scars that littered his skin. It was normal to remember all the big flashpoint moments, but what about all the tiny ones in between? The things that interconnected all the different eras of his life? Ones like this, where nothing in particular was happening, but that were so worth holding onto.

He leant against the door frame, watching you for a moment. Finnick didn’t want to disturb you - or maybe he wanted to savour the moment. He woke up to you every morning but he wanted to remember each and individual single day. That was something he’d come to learn, having been reminded of his mortality so many times. He’d be damned if he was going to hold onto the moments that made him stare death in the face and tell it to back the fuck down so many times.

The floor-boards beneath creaked slightly as he re-adjusted himself, causing you to jump slightly. You glanced over your shoulder at him, a smile playing on your lips as your eyes caught his. The morning sun was coming from through the kitchen window, pouring over you in a way that you made you seem almost other worldy. It was fitting, really.

‘G’morning.’ You greeted him through a mouthful of pancakes. ‘I made pancakes. Or I tried to make pancakes.’

His eyes followed your hand as you gestured up to the ceiling. There two or three half cooked pancakes stuck up there, clearly hanging on with all their might.

‘What’s with the splatters on the wall?’ Finnick raised an eyebrow at you.

‘Oh, those ones hit the ceiling fan.’ You bit your lip to suppress a laugh, eyes falling to the floor. You could feel your cheeks heating up his intense gaze, even as a grin broke across his face.

‘You never cook.’ Finnick said. He made his way over towards you, broad arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you into him. ‘The oven in this house is purely for decoration.’

‘I wanted to surprise you.’ You admitted. ‘I know you love pancakes and it’s been a while since we’d had them. Thought it might be a nice thing to wake up to.’

He could have sworn that his heart stopped at that. Finnick had spent so much of his life running from people, watching his own back and constantly looking over his shoulder. To have someone to actually do things for him, to (try and) cook for him with his favourite food in mind? The feeling was still entirely new to him. You were still entirely new to him. You did things for him without even thinking about just...because. Your love for him was reason enough.

A silence fell over you for a moment as he just stared at you, intense blue gaze holding your own. He still couldn’t believe that you were real, even with your hands resting on his shoulders and your presence right before his eyes. The funny thing was that it wasn’t like the moment was particularly special, or big, or even interesting. It was just you and him in the kitchen, something which was quite mundane, truth be told. But maybe that was it: the fact it was mundane. His entire life had been so fucking crazy, so filled with panic and blunder and change, that to have something constant enough to even be considered mundane? That in itself was extraordinary. You were extraordinary.

‘Hey.’ You gently brushed your hand over his cheek. ‘You’re staring.’

‘Yeah, I know. At you.’ He replied.

‘Okay, maybe let me rephrase that.’ You softly laughed. ‘Why are you staring?’

‘I just...’ he trailed off, biting his lip for a moment. ‘I just really love you.’

‘I love you too, Fin.’ You leant forwards, brushing your lips against his.

Finnick was a good kisser; you knew that better than anyone. Somehow, every kiss felt like your first. His lips were always soft, always warm and welcoming. That, paired with his hands on your hips and the way he ran them up and down your sides, was enough to make you forget the entire world around you. He was enough to make you forget the entire world around you. As far as you cared - and as far as you wanted to care - it was just you and him, and nobody else. You were the center of his universe and he wasn’t willing to let anybody else in.

‘Oh, shit.’ You suddenly pulled away when the pancake on the stove started to spit smoke. ‘This one was gonna be good! And you distracted me!’

‘Darling, I always distract you.’ His cocky grin returned as he leant against the counter beside you.

‘You were being so soft a minute ago.’ You quipped, jokingly rolling your eyes.

‘I can be both.’ He grabbed your arm, yanking you back towards him. He wrapped his arms around your waist,

‘I liked it when you were confessing your love for me.’ You softly murmured, pressing your forehead to his.

‘Want me to do it again?’

‘I certainly won’t complain.’

‘Okay.’ His grin faded to a thoughtful smile. ‘I love you so much that it’s almost overwhelming. In fact, it might be completely overwhelming but I don’t even mind.’

‘That’s better.’ You pressed another kiss to his lips. ‘And I love you too, so much that it is also almost overwhelming.’

‘Almost?’ Finnick quipped. ‘I’d argue I’m entirely overwhelming-’

‘- I also fell in love with your humbleness.’ You shot back.

‘I will accept your declaration of almost overwhelming love so long as you promise it’s forever.’ He replied. He knew how cheesy he was being, but it was one of the things he was good at.

‘Of course.’ You grinned. ‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fluff #finn odair imagines #finn odair x you #hunger games imagines #hunger games x reader

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coffee-and-quill · 3 years

Text

Birthday Wishes Pt. 2

Stucky x Reader: You have been feeling neglected lately, but Bucky and Steve promised they would be there for your birthday. When they don’t show up, you are left feeling broken, and they are left wondering how they will every make it up to you

Authors Note: It took a long time to figure out how I wanted to end this. Relationships are hard, they are constant work and give/take. It takes communication and understanding for all parties to feel heard and loved. I hope y’all enjoy, and please let me know if there’s anything else you would like to see from me!

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It had been three weeks since Steve had seen you, talked to you, held you in his arms. Three weeks of radio silence, and it was killing him. He and Bucky had gone to your parent’s house the morning after they discovered you were missing. As if they weren’t feeling awful enough, the icy look your mother had given them so different from the warm, caring smile they were used to, sent shockwaves through their chests. Steve had begged to talk to you, but your mother had told them that you had left early that morning. You were going somewhere they couldn’t find you or bother you. When Bucky had tried to get more information, she had slammed the door in their faces.

It took two more days of searching and desperation to figure out that Tony had helped you go completely off grid. “It’s not my place to tell you where she is, you shouldn’t have fucked up this bad,” the billionaire had told them when they tried to force your location out of him. He wasn’t wrong, and that set a heavy weight on their chests like nothing they had never felt before.

Steve tried to go back to work, but every time he tried to buckle down and focus, or to accept a mission, he thought of your face. What if you wanted to talk to them? What if you came back and he was so caught up in his work again that he lost you for good? He might have already lost you, and the thought alone was enough to bring him to his knees gasping for breath. He felt small, smaller than he’d ever felt in his life. He would take being a sickly, scrawny kid in the 40s over these feelings any day. It got to the point where Fury told him to go home and not come back until his head was in the game again. “At this rate,” the director had grumbled, “You’re likely to get yourself or someone else seriously hurt if you continue as you are.” Steve didn’t argue. Instead, he slumped home, collapsed on the couch, and sobbed. Pain and heartbreak were the only things he knew anymore.

Bucky was no better. After the acceptance that there was no finding you until you wanted to be found, the former assassin completely shut down. He barely ate and never slept anymore. How could he when there was the constant reminder that you were no longer in his life, no longer snuggled safely between Steve and him. The nightmares came back full force. He had almost forgotten what it was like to wake up screaming in a cold sweat. Now, instead of visuals of Hydra and the chair, and the blood and death that followed him like a storm, he had nightmare of you telling him you were done with him. You told him with a stone face that you’d never loved him, that you could never love a murderer, and you left with him begging and screaming on the floor. During the day he stayed in bed. He felt useless and weak, so, so weak. He was used to suffering, used to the constant weight of guilt on his chest. But this, this feeling, this guilt was far worse. People are constantly telling him that his actions as the Winter Soldier were not his fault, but this was all on him. There was no scapegoat, no evil organizations pulling the strings, no excuses, no one else to blame but himself. He was the reason you were gone, and it was destroying him.

()()()()()()()()()

Three weeks, and you were feeling like absolute shit. You barely slept, ate only what you could unwrap in seconds, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t showered in at least a week. You couldn’t tell what day it was; time seemed to slip and slide together in a meaningless fuzz in your mind. Most days found you on the small couch of the cabin Tony had so graciously offered you, the TV on a low hum in the background playing some sort of celebrity reality program. Not that you really cared. Nothing really held your interest for long anyway. Your thoughts were stuck back in your apartment with your boys. You kept replaying the better times over and over, trying to figure out where you went wrong.

Back when you first got together, Steve and Bucky had been so sweet, so shy when bringing up the idea, so afraid that you would turn them away and they would lose the best thing that had happened to them since they were reunited. When you told them you wanted to give it a try, they had been ecstatic. Their excitement was infectious, buzzing around you like two overenergized puppies who had just been given the best treats of their lives. Those first few months had been blissful, none of you willing to be parted from the other longer than a day or so. You went on dates, ate crappy Chinese food together, snuggled up to each other on the cold nights.

You were crying again thinking about those times. You missed being with your boys more than ever, missed the connection and the feeling of safety and security. You missed the two people who knew you better than you could ever know yourself. You had been stuck on a loop for the past three weeks. Where did it go wrong? When did it happen and how did you not notice? Was it you? God, if you could only talk to them. You had so many questions, so many concerns. Mostly, however, you just wanted a hug. You just wanted to be held between your Stevie and your Bucky and you wanted to feel loved.

It had been around midday, after shoving down a lukewarm hot pocket, that you heard the front door of the cabin click open.

“Damn,” came the snarky voice of Tony Stark, “You look worse than I did after that one Easter party I threw.” Even through the fog in your brain, you couldn’t help but smile.

“That was your own fault, Stark,” you sassed, “Who the hell takes that many tequila shots at a brunch party?”

The billionaire scoffed. “Obviously you have no sense of danger, babe.” You flipped him the finger. “So,” he said, lifting your feet up so he could make himself comfortable on the cushy couch, “It’s obvious to me and to literally everyone else that something went on between you and the two super stooges back home. And by the way they have been moping around the tower and by the grease buildup in Barnes’ hair, they are fairing about as well as you.”

Your ears perked up at the information. You should feel satisfied that Steve and Bucky were feeling miserable for what they did. You should feel relieved that they are getting a taste of what they put you through. Instead, you just felt your heart sink into your stomach. No matter how angry you were at them, you could never stand the thought of them in pain.

“I’m not saying the two don’t deserve it,” Tony continued, “I’m just saying that if your going to make them suffer, at least do it in a way that you aren’t suffering as well.”

“I don’t want to make them suffer,” came you soft reply.

“No?”

“I was hurt.” The tears that had been gathering in your eye dripped down your face at your watery tone. “I was hurt, and angry, and I just felt like I had to run to escape those feelings, so I came here. But the longer I stayed, the less hurt and angry I felt. And then the sadness and loneliness came and I felt like I was drowning, and all I wanted was to be back with them. But I had already stayed away for so long. What if they don’t want me anymore? Or they think we can fix things? What if they realize they aren’t willing to try, Tony? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Tony scrubbed his hand over his face and let out a huge breath. “I can’t answer those questions for you, sweetheart. Lord knows if I could take the pain away, I would. But nothing is going to happen with you sitting here and refusing to talk to them.” You nodded, knowing that what he was saying was logical. You couldn’t solve anything by sitting around and moping, and lord knows you won’t solve anything by running away.

You took a deep breath “Ok. I’m ready to come home.”

“Good.” Tony stood up and adjusted his suit. “Because honestly, the boys have start loitering outside my lab looking like a couple of drowned kittens, and it’s depressing everyone.” He held out his hand for you, which you graciously took, standing and hissing out your cramped muscles. Tony took one step towards the door before stopping suddenly and turning back. “Maybe you should shower first. You stink like that casserole Clint tried to make for dinner that one time.”

Tony barely dodged the chipped mug thrown at his head.

()()()()()()()()()

When you showed up to the apartment you shared with Bucky and Steve, your nerves had been on fire. Steve had opened the door looking he hadn’t slept since you had seen him last. His eyes widened and his arms twitched towards you instinctively, wanting to wrap you in in them and never let go. He held himself back, though it left a deep ache in his chest to do so. You wanted nothing more to go to him, to card you fingers through his hair and reassure him that everything was fine, that you were here and you would never leave again. You had to clutch the straps of your bag until your knuckles were white to stop yourself.

“We need to talk.” Your voice was small, fragile. You wanted to run and hide all over again, but you knew this needed to be done. Steve nodded jerkily, widening the door to allow you to enter. Visually, everything looked the same; the couch was in the living room, blankets thrown haphazardly across the back, and the table sat in the kitchen with its three mismatched chairs and well-loved surface. However, as you moved further into the space, you noticed a staleness to the air that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t a home anymore, and the thought made you frown deeply.

Steve closed the door softly behind you. “I’ll go get Bucky,” he murmured, and you shivered. God help you, you were so in love with these men. Even tired and beat down, Steve’s voice still had an effect on you. It reminded you of soft kisses over bare skin in the early morning hours before the rest of the world was awake, of tender love and honey sweet words spoken between breathy moans.

You pushed the memory to the back of your mind as Steve reentered, Bucky following close behind. You felt your breath catch at his appearance. He looked broken. Dark circles fell under lightless eyes, the grief and despair that sat heavy on his shoulders was visible in the hunch he wore, as if he was being physically crushed by its weight. You could have honestly cried if it were a different situation.

At the sight of you standing in the living room, he cracked a smile that looked almost painful. “Hey, Doll. I missed you,” he rasped. Hi voice was scratchy and rough from crying. Despite the somber tension that hung in the room like mist, you felt a sense of peace wash over you at the presence of your boys. Despite your nerves, despite your fears and reservations, you smiled at them. The tension melted from Bucky and Steve’s shoulders, and you knew everything would be okay. You could do this.

()()()()()()()()()

The three of you spent hours talking. You told them everything: your fear of being left behind and forgotten, your frustrations with always feeling second place to the duties as avengers, the anger of that night and the emotions of the last three weeks. In turn, they shared their guilt and frustration at their own actions. They told you how they felt that being avengers was the only thing they could do to help people, it was the only thing they knew, and they had been scared to deviate from that routine, even when it had started pushing you away. They shared the fear they felt at finding you gone, and the terror and grief that had set in when they realized you might not come back and that was it for the three of you. Finally, they shared their confession that nothing they had done or would ever do as avengers would be more important than you. They wanted to change, to get better. They wanted to do it for you.

What started as you sitting across from them quickly transitioned into the three of you cuddled together on the couch, seemingly one entity. Weeks of no contact had starved the boys of your touch, and they couldn’t remove themselves from you if they wanted to. Bucky lay across you legs with his head in your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. You hand was tangled in his hair, massaging the base of his skull. Your other hand was gripped tightly in Steve’s as you leaned back into his broad chest. His blond head rested comfortably on your shoulder, turned inward to whisper his apologies into the exposed skin of your neck. Every once and a while he would leave a lingering kiss there, the skin tingling nonstop from the feel of his lips. You felt more relaxed than you had in weeks. That night you fell asleep in your bed, bracketed by the two most important people in your life. You would be okay.

#stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

Photo

UNPLANNED, Jeff & Glenne’s wedding

author’s note: MY GIRL GLENNE GOT MARRIED SO YOU KNOW I HAD TO!!!!!!!!

Jane tugged at your pearl necklace, her flower girl dress was already wrinkled at the bottom and she probably needed a snack.

“Do you know where he is?” Glenne’s voice was frantic, and if you hadn’t already seen the writing on the wall, now was a good time to realize she was a terminally stressed-out human. The day of her wedding was not exempt.

“He’ll be here,” you reassured her, watched as her mother zipped up the back of her dress. “He said he was writing some last minute additions.”

Clicks from the photographer’s camera cut between her words. “Y/N, if your boyfriend ruins my wedding, so help me God.”

Lexi appeared from the bathroom, her arms outstretched to take Jane from you and offer her some cheerios. “Who’s ruining what?”

“Harry is gonna ruin everything,” Glenne turned around, her lips were perfectly glossed, hair tousled in a divine way. She was perfect, she looked beautiful, but her anxiety was through the roof and no one seemed to know how to calm her down.

“Harry is going to be fine,” Lexi assured her. “And you literally had the last six months to freak out over asking him to officiate your wedding, so…”

“Well he’s late--he’s not even here and we’re supposed to start the ceremony in--” Glenne looked down at her phone on the bed. It was blowing up, Jeff, presumably, just as anxious and likely freaking out over Harry’s absence. “Three minutes. We’re supposed to start in three minutes.”

You held back a giggle and smiled at your friend. You couldn’t tell her, you couldn’t explain that this was all part of Harry’s plan: freak her out and make her think that he’d dropped the ball, waited until the last second to write up the ceremony and get things in line. Buy some time and keep her in the hotel for a few more minutes. Distract, distract, distract.

But he wasn’t late, he was somewhere outside, his lateness was the distraction he and Jeff had put in place to surprise Glenne with a performance tonight from an artist Glenne had been obsessed with for literal decades.

Jeff was in on it, too--which Glenne had no idea about. His last minute texts where he bad mouthed Harry’s lack of punctuality were all a ruse, one that you were starting to laugh about when Glenne looked up at you with wide eyes. “What is so funny? This is comical to you?”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I just know it will all be okay. He’s been so excited to do the ceremony, Glenney.”

“Well,” she sighed, looked over to Lexi and then to her sister, two cousins were also waiting in the living room area of her suite. “Should we go out there?”

“Yes,” Lexi nodded. “And let’s get you a drink while we’re at it. This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“Oh I remember,” Glenne smiled, “I just hope I don’t have to murder anyone tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, took Jane back in your arms when she giggled at a silly face Lexi made. You followed them out through the hotel hallways and onto the beautiful grounds. A clear top tent sat off in the distance, lights strung up to its peak for the main event. Your heels wobbled on the manicured lawn and Jane squinted in the Southern California sun. You were ushered into place, hoping that she would be able to waddle down the aisle and throw out petals like you had practiced the night before.

Jeff and his parents had already gathered beneath the ceremony trellis, they looked tiny in the distance, stood in front of the ten rows on each side of the aisle. In the middle, almost blending into the flowers and rose bushes behind him, stood Harry.

Glenne’s sister spotted it first: “What on earth is he wearing, Y/N?”

Lexi and the other bridesmaids burst out laughing, the sight of Harry in a white hotel bathrobe and slippers was enough to make Glenne freeze.

“Oh my fucking God,” Glenne laughed, a smile cracked on her face when she turned to look at you again. “He’s literally getting murdered tonight,” she giggled. “Always has to be the center of attention, doesn’t he?”

Jane giggled when the others did, a woman with a headset barked more orders for everyone to line up, the rest of the groomsmen appeared and linked arms with their assigned partner.

Harry--being the person he was--knew damn well that Glenne would lose her shit over him wearing a bathrobe to officiate their marriage ceremony. Which is why he had a partially unbuttoned dress shirt underneath, boxers on and pants waiting nearby. He wouldn’t actually perform the ceremony like that, but he wanted her to have a heart attack thinking he might.

You weren’t too sure about it at first. Get Glenne all riled up right before her wedding, piss her off and give her a good reason to think that Harry officiating their wedding was the worst decision they’d made? Risky.

But they needed a diversion, something that would keep Glenne’s attention away from the tent and away from the smuggling of a superstar into her wedding--one that she’d planned every single detail and minute of months in advance.

When you listened to Harry and Jeff talk about it in your living room and plan it all out, the robe, the book, the scotch--you knew that the surprise would be worth it and you knew she’d be thrilled with the outcome. Even if she was left thinking for a little bit that Harry was an asshat.

Jeff was right, it has to be something stupid and big and totally weird to throw her off course.

I’ll take on for the team, Harry agreed.

Soon the music played and everyone fell into step. Jane didn’t cry, instead she smiled at Harry at the end of the aisle and wobbled forward in her party shoes, holding onto your fingers as she smiled at the guests who waved and cooed in her direction. You took it upon yourself to toss the petals out and hoped it would suffice for Glenne.

Yet when she made her way down the aisle, her eyes meeting Jeff’s for the first time today, everything else seemed to melt away. Harry’s robe was not the center of attention, and he pulled on some trousers and fixed himself up in the first few minutes of the ceremony, all the while using it as a way to break the ice.

“Glenne might be one of the most diligent, hardworking, and responsible people I know,” he said to the crowd. “She’s also quite Type A and I figured giving her a good scare right before she marries Jeff would use up any nerves she might have today.”

He smiled in your direction before continuing. “And Jeff is also quite Type A--he’s an incredible manager and friend and partner, and being able to join the two of them today in marriage will likely be the highlight of my year.”

Maybe it was being in front of a crowd, or maybe it was the glass of champagne she’d downed in the hotel room right before coming outside, but Glenne softened once Harry had tugged up his trousers and gained enough of a laugh from everyone.

They’d written their own vows, words of promise that brought tears to your eyes and made Jane clap her hands together excitedly. She cheered when they kissed, and you were pleased that phase one had gone as swimmingly as it had.

Glenne was so swept up in the moment that she had seemed to forget all about it, happily strutting down the aisle with Jeff by her side when the music played again. You stuck around and let Jane crawl into Harry’s arms as guests filed out. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“No,” he shook his head, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips. “She doesn’t suspect anything, right?”

“Not at all,” you smiled. “But she did say she was going to murder you.”

He smirked, watched as the guests filed out and started greeting each other for cocktail hour. “I think helping Jeff pull off the surprise of a lifetime will be a good way to go.”

“Well hopefully when Justin Timberlake shows up to serenade them at their wedding she’ll forget all about you in a bathrobe being her first sight when she walked down the aisle.”

“Ugh, we are killing it, Jane! Auntie Glenne is going to be so excited,” he told your daughter, nuzzling his face into hers when she grinned up at him.

“Auntie Glenne already wants to kill you,” Lexi appeared suddenly. “So you need to get over there and put that bathrobe on for more photos. She was just asking why there’s a live-mic getting set up with a stage in there.”

Lexi pointed at the tent--you could see the last minute touches being put in place for the big performance.

“I can’t believe I’m the sacrificial lamb,” he looked at both of you. “Taking the piss and being labeled as the worst officiator ever for showing up in a robe, all to distract her from the plan her now husband hatched in our living room when he was drunk.”

Both you and Lexi watched him for a second, unimpressed with his mini monologue.

“As if you don’t love the attention and the theatrics,” Lexi shot back.

“Well, I can’t believe you guys are putting her through this,” you laughed, pulling Jane out of his arms so he could continue on with his official duties.

“I know--she’ll forgive me soon enough.”

He pressed another kiss to your face and was off, grabbed a glass of scotch from Jeff’s brothers and changed behind a bush back into the robe. Maybe he was crazy, or maybe it was genius: keep her distracted and pissed off enough with a silly outfit to make the surprise even more special.

You watched her hit him playfully in the chest when you made your way over. The entire bridal party had gathered round for photos.

“Aren’t you not supposed to wear white?” Glenne joked with him, took another look at the robe when Jeff reached up a hand to let Harry twirl around under, really showing off his get up.

“Glenne, forgive me,” he smiled, “I just had to be comfortable!”

“Comfortable my ass!” She laughed, accepted a flute of champagne from a server and picked a fuzz off of Jeff’s suit. “You can be comfortable later--not right now.”

“A few photos like this, though, babe,” Jeff begged. “Don’t you want to remember how much of a dick Harry was at our wedding?”

She eyed Harry closely, and for a second you were sure she was on to them. “Fine--but only because you look absolutely ridiculous and this will be perfect blackmail.”

Harry wrapped his arms around her for a picture, “I can live with that.”

It wasn’t until speeches were made and dinner was eaten that phase two began. Jeff and Glenne had been practicing their first dance for weeks, the music started to play over the speakers and everyone watched as they swayed in the center of the dance floor.

Harry, who knew exactly the moment the song would end and things would take a sudden turn, had his arms around your shoulders and swayed behind you. “S’nice, isn’t it?”

“That Glenne is about to have a stroke in front of all these people because her celebrity crush is about to pop out of nowhere?”

“No,” he laughed, “this--the wedding stuff.”

“Oh,” you smiled, “yeah, it’s a beautiful place.”

“Would you want something this big?”

You looked over your shoulder, saw Lexi swaying with Jane in her arms at the table over.

“Probably not,” you admitted.

“That’s good.”

“Oh?” You looked over your shoulder at him with a smirk. “Why’s that good?”

“Well,” he took a dramatic pause. “If you plan on marrying me--which I really hope you do--we might be stuck having something extremely small and private.”

You tried not to smile, tried not to get swept away in the idea of marrying Harry and continuing to build a family with him. You’d just made it a year--366 days since Jane was born and the biggest plans you had moving forward was her first birthday party next week, once Glenne and Jeff were back from their honeymoon, of course.

Before you could reply, though, the song ended, the crowd cheered for Jeff and Glenne, and then people started to gasp when a man in a tuxedo emerged from the crowd and took the stage.

“Jeff and Glenne,” he spoke into the mic, you peered through the crowd to see her face. White, like she’d seen a ghost, or better, Justin Timberlake. “I’m so excited to be here tonight and to help you celebrate. Glenne, your husband let me know how much it would mean for me to sing a specific song for you tonight.”

Lexi thrust Jane into Harry’s arms and grabbed your hand. “We need to be on the dance floor for this!” She tugged you through people, your bridesmaids dresses automatically giving you the right to elbow them out of your way to get closer to Glenne’s impending freak out.

Harry took Jane and laughed, waved you off and let you throw your arms around Glenne when Justin started to sing SexyBack.

“No fucking way!” She screamed over the cheers, “did you know about this?”

“Of course we knew about this,” Lexi laughed. “Who do you think helped make everything run so smoothly?”

“Oh my God,” Glenne laughed, “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“We wanted to make sure the day was really special,” Jeff laughed, pulled her close and kissed her again. “And our good pal Harry offered to be the world’s best distraction so we could make sure everything ran smoothly.”

“I knew there was a reason he was wearing that,” she hid her face in her hands.

“Hey, Harry knows how to cause a scene,” Lexi teased.

“Where is he?!” Glenne searched around the dance floor, a sea of people thrilled with the live performance.

He was standing off to the side, bopping around with Jane in his arms, mouthing the words to her and pulling her hand back and forth to pull a giggle from her.

“Just being the world’s best dad,” Jeff smiled and nudged you. “Go get him!”

You got his attention, pulled him back to your circle of friends and felt relief wash over you when Glenne gave him a playful punch in the arm. “I might still murder you for giving me a heart attack, but I’ll try to hold back.”

“You’re welcome, Glenne,” Harry joked, his eyes wide. “You are literally the world’s most meticulous bride, so our scheme to pull one over on you had to be crazy.”

“Yeah, well, I guess Justin Timberlake is a good way to make up for wearing a bathrobe to my wedding ceremony.”

“So you forgive me?”

She thought about it for a second, laughed when he rolled his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and looked up at him. “If anyone was going to wear white to my wedding, I’m glad it was you. But I’m definitely leaking those photos to the press.”

table of contents | talk to me | the playlist

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#unplanned #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles blurb #idkthisisjustforfanfic #liz no one asked you

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random-writes-blog · 3 years

Text

Knowing right from wrong

Summery: Remus isn’t always the best 12 year old. He acts and speaks on impulse and during a fight he bites Roman. Patton won’t let let that happen again.

Unsympathetic Patton, Questionable Logan, Sympathetic Remus, Sympathetic Roman, kid!sides, gore, claustrophobia, whump, collar, spikes, child abuse (seriously a Lot of the language is from experience so be careful.), manipulation, Hurt no comfort, please ask to tag

Patton paced the living room, “I still can’t believe he did that-” his hands were still shaking from anxiety and adrenaline. He turned to Logan, “We have to do something about him.“

Logan nodded, “We’ll let him settle down and have a nice talk-“

”He bit Roman!” Patton said, ”And those horrible things he talks about all the time-” he shuddered than sighed, “Listen Logan, I love Remus as much as I love every other side. But we can’t do nothing about his behavior.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t say we should do nothing. I said we should talk to him about the situation.”

Patton shook his head, “It won’t work, we can talk and talk but he won’t listen.“ He moved to sit next to Logan on the couch, “I know you think we can work with him, that he must have something good to offer or else he wouldn’t be a part of Thomas but... I think he might just be rotten. And if we let the rot fester inside Thomas...”

”I heavily disagree with your view of the situation. This isn’t a pattern of behavior, Remus got mad at Roman and bit him once. You can’t look at one mistake and some of his more... Disturbing moments and decide that he’s bad.”

There was a loud howling wail from across the hall as if Remus wanted to throw his own opinion on his existence onto the table. Though it was just as likely that he was pissed at being grounded for the moment. They decided to ignore it.

”We need to look at the risk vs rewards aspect of this Logan. Let’s say Remus never hurts anyone again after your talk. He‘ll still say those... Awful things and won’t contribute anything meaningful to Thomas’s life. And if I’m right and your conversation does nothing?” Patton bit his lip, “Logan we don’t know who he’s going to hurt next.”

Logan sighed, there was really no arguing with Patton sometimes, and he did have a point... ”What do you suggest we do then?”

Patton took Logan’s hands in his, “Give me a week to work things out with him. I think I know how to fix him.”

Logan took a deep breath, “Okay.“

————-——————————————

Remus banged on the door of the closet, every second it felt like the walls were growing closer together. He could feel it boxing him in, trapping him there. He was losing air. If he stayed in much longer the walls would squish around him and his bones would snap underneath him and he’d run out of air and he couldn’t breathe- he couldn’t breathe so he shouted and screamed.

“Let me out! I’ll tear out your throat with my teeth! I’ll tear off your skin until you’re just muscles and bones and blood on my fingers! I’ll-“

The door to the closet finally opened the slight light of the hallway streaming through. His eyes lit up and he tried to run out; only to be picked up. He kicked and thrashed against the person holding him, the person chuckled and he stopped, looking up curiously.

“Are you done?” Patton asked, “I want you to let it all out now, because I’m not going to let you keep hurting people kiddo.”

Remus gave a small nod, not because he was ‘done’ fighting back. He was just kind of stuck at the moment.

Patton smiled, “You’re doing better already. Alright, I’m going to put something on your neck quickly, than put you down okay?”

Remus squinted, but apparently his actual consent wasn’t required for Patton to reach around his neck and put on a loose green collar. Then Patton dropped him on the ground.

He immediately summoned his tentacles to try to unclasp it. The minute a sucker touched the material though, he felt the sudden sharp jolt of a metal spike piercing through the soft flesh of his tentacle. He tried to pull it off but only felt the spike move, tearing further down his tentacle. He could feel his own blood start to travel down his neck.

”Get-Get it off!” He shouted at Patton, he tugged more, only tearing further into himself and let out a small cry.

Patton held onto his tentacle, “Don’t move. You’ll only hurt yourself more.”

“YOU LITTLE BITCH, I’ll kill you! Get this thing off me, get it off! I’ll kill you I’ll-“ He felt another spike form on the collar near his throat. He held his breath. One wrong move and it’d would cut into him.

Patton hummed, “All of that was extremely impolite. Death threats? Remus is that any way to treat anyone?“ His face softened as he knelt down and took Remus’s head in his hand, “I don’t want to hurt you. Not really. I just want you to know that you can’t behave the way you do and not face any consequences.”

Remus was very aware of how close the spike was to his throat, how close it was to cutting off his larynx or his airway or-

“Now, if you just say you’re sorry, I’ll call off the spikes and we can talk about how this will work for us, okay?”

Go to hell! He wished he could shout it and spit in Patton’s face, but the metal near his throat and on his tentacle were a good enough deterrent.

Patton tapped his foot, “I don’t have all day. Apologize. Now. I’m going to count down from 3 to 1.”

”3.”

No! Fuck that and fuck him! He wasn’t going to cave to threats

”2.”

He was Morality. He wouldn’t really do that to him, even if he was shitty. (Would he?)

”1” He heard a disappointed tut. Than a burst of pain as the spike dug itself into his throat. He fell to the ground, he wanted to cry out but the only noise he could make was a strangled gurgle. Black spots danced around his vision and he stared at the blood, a lake with smaller rivers of crimson slowly moving away. It was the kind of thing that would have made him smile if he wasn’t in agony. He decided that’s what he would decide to focus on instead of Patton’s drones or the numbness that was slowly making its way through his body.

He didn’t know how long he paid attention to that before feeling a swift kick to his stomach That made him curl in on himself. He wanted to vomit.

Patton’s voice hasn’t changed from the stern, caring tone he’d had since the beginning. “Remus, how are you supposed to learn anything when you won’t pay attention? Look at me.”

Remus managed to move his body to look at him. He watched as the spikes moved out of his neck and tentacle, which fell limp to the floor. With a snap, Remus’s body began to repair itself, but the pain remained.

”Good.” Patton said, his smile mocked him. “I still want that apology and you owe Roman one too for how you behaved earlier.

Remus stared at him in disbelief. He was still thinking about that apology? That felt like decades ago... “’m sorry.” He mumbled. He really wasn’t in fact he wished his threats would actually come true and he could kill Patton.

Patton put his hand to his ear, “What was that? I couldn’t understand you.”

He had to be fucking with Remus. He wasn’t going to repeat himself, Patton got his apology! What more did he want?!

”I could make it worse you know. All of our damage is temporary so it’s not like anyone would know-“

“I’m sorry, okay?” He practically shouted, he hated this, but he didn’t want to make it worse.

Patron sighed and pat his head, “It’s a start kiddo. I hope you know now that violent and hurtful behavior will not be tolerated.” He kissed Remus’s forehead, “I love you, and I want you to start doing better for me. Okay?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a threat. One that they both knew he wouldn’t hesitate to act on. Morality meant knowing the difference between right and wrong and acting on it. Remus was wrong and there was no hesitation to Patton’s actions.

”Okay.“ Remus took a breath, “Can I take this thing off now?”

Patton shook his head, “No, I want you to keep it on, to remind you of what you learned today. Now, let’s take you to your room.”

Remus nodded and followed him, his head was starting to fuzz over. He felt like he was in a daze. The next thing he remembered was being tucked into bed.

“Hey Ro-boat?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for biting you earlier.”

“‘s okay, it didn’t even hurt that much! And Logan gave me this super cool dragon bandaid! Hang on let me get the light so I can show it to you.”

He heard Roman fiddling around, trying to get the switch and shook his head. “Show me in the morning. I just want to sleep right now.”

Roman swung his body so he was peering down at him from the top bunk, “You never want to sleep at night, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel too great.”

“Should I get Logan?”

”No-“

”Should I get Patton?”

Remus’s eyes shot open, “No!“ He took a deep breath, “Just... Just go to bed. I’ll be better in the morning I promise.“

“Okay...“ He pulled himself back into his bed, “Good night, Duke of Scarington.“

”Good night.”

#Unsympathetic Patton #Questionable Logan #Sympathetic Remus #Sympathetic Roman #Whump #tw child abuse #Tw claustrophobia #tw gore #tw manipulation #Rem Writes

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coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

Text

pst. hey. hey kid, yes you.

Chapter 9 of The Wall Between Us is up on AO3 if you feel like crying over fictional teenagers who like to dress up in skintight suits to battle a magical terrorist.

Read on Tumblr below the cut.

Chapter 9 Adrien would like to say that he went back to school the Monday after Alya’s intervention because if he stayed a day longer, his father would probably just go ahead and arrange for a private tutor. However, if he was really honest, his return to school was attributed largely to his fear of Alya. He knew she was not above storming into the mansion again and dragging him all the way to his classroom, no matter his state or what he was wearing.

Nobody needed to see him in days-old comfort clothes, so he decided it was in everyone’s best interest if he just showed up.

Luckily, he severely overestimated how much of a fuzz his classmates would make upon his return. The only ones who prodded with questions were Nino and Chloe.

The sight to behold was Marinette, who had barely batted an eye when he went into the room. He felt as if somebody had punched him in the gut as he took her in. She looked sick, lost in her thoughts. Her eyes were directed at her table. She clutched the phone he had given her as Chat Noir on her hand, tucked underneath the table, knuckles white from holding it so tight.

He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and forced to calm himself even though there was nothing he wanted more than to hurry up to her and pull her in the tightest hug he could give her. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how much of an idiot he had been for leaving her hanging, how awful he felt for making her believe he abandoned her.

Then the bell rang and had no option but to take a seat as their teacher came in. The end of the day couldn’t arrive fast enough, he couldn’t wait to call her. He had lied about his schedule so he wouldn’t be forced to go back home when he called her. He had told Natalie there would be an extended fencing practice but instead he’d head somewhere in the outskirts of the city where he’d have enough privacy.

He found a tower that seemed tall enough that no one would spot him hanging around at the top. He transformed and pulled the burner phone from his backpack, then with shaky hands dialed her number. He held his breath as the line rang.

It couldn’t have been five seconds before someone answered at the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

It was her, she sounded worried. “Is it you?… Hello?”

“Yeah,” he said, finding it hard to speak with the painful knot that strangled his vocal cords.

Ladybug let out a gasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yes…Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I–”

“Stop,” she said. “Whatever you’re going to say next, I want you to tell it to my face. Tonight, top of Eiffel.”

“Okay, but–”

“Tonight, Chaton… I trust you to be there,” she said, then hung up.

Chat Noir gulped. Maybe she suspected what he had wanted to do. Even though Alya had advised against it, he was still not entirely sure it wasn’t the right way to go. Things would be so much more complicated from now on, and even though there was still the risk of his father being Hawkmoth, the prospect of confirming his suspicion seemed just as dreadful as revealing his identity to Marinette.

That night, he was earlier to the rendezvous than Ladybug, which gave him a few minutes to take in the city for a while and calm his thoughts. He was caught off guard when Ladybug suddenly swung from behind him, grabbed him, and hoisted him all the way up, to the very top of the tower.

“What the—”

“The only way you’re getting off from here is with your baton,” she said, tearfully. “I won’t let you give up the ring. I– you… You can’t!”

Chat Noir looked at her for a second and then launched himself into her arms. “I’m so sorry, Ladybug,” he said. “I’m sorry I disappeared like that, I… it took me by surprise.”

Ladybug sobbed against his hair. “You… you… dumbass!”

“Takes one to spot one,” he joked softly, still hugging her tightly. He only let her go once she had calmed down a bit.

“Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I never wanted to hurt you… Which is why I can’t—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she pleaded.

Chat Noir sighed heavily, sensing as his assuredness wavered. “I can’t be Chat Noir anymore, Ladybug. I don’t want to make this harder on you…”

“You aren’t!” she protested. “Chat Noir, you’re my partner!”

“Trust me, you’ll be better off without–”

“For once in your life, stop making assumptions!” she yelled, wishing she knew his name so that he could shout it. “You always do this! You never give me a chance to explain!” she cried. “Chat Noir, you won’t make things harder on me by knowing my identity.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, quietly.

“What?” she demanded. “What is it that I don’t get since you haven’t grown past hiding things from me, apparently?” At his silence, she pressed again. “What is it Chat Noir?” she cried.

“I’m in love with you!” he yelled back, if only to interrupt her accusations, summoning a heavy silence. “I love you,” he repeated softly, after what felt like an eternity. “I know who you are, Marinette.”

She gasped at the sound of her name. A part of her knew one day in the future he’d probably speak it, but it was one of those things one assumes but never really understands until they happen. The same way one knows life will happen at some point but cannot really fathom it.

“I did get over you,” he explained. “Then I fell in love with you again, with you under the mask… I know you’re with Luka and I don’t want to get in the way. But I also can’t… I–”

Ladybug didn’t know what else to do but to hug him. “You don’t have to tell me who you are,” she said softly. “I’ll keep my distance. Just… please don’t leave. You won’t get in the way, I promise. No matter what you think, you’ll never be an obstacle for me, I need you to understand that. Please, Chat.”

Chat hugged her tightly and nodded against her shoulder. “Okay.”

They stayed like that for a good while and once calm was regained, they descended back to the lower beams of the tower, where they usually met.

They were quiet until a question dawned on Ladybug. “Why did you show up to the hang-out with no transformation anyway?”

“It was the middle of the day,” he said. “And… there was an emergency.”

Ladybug arched an eyebrow at him.

“Um… don’t ask follow-up questions, but… I have reason to believe Hawkmoth might be Gabriel Agreste.”

Ladybug widened her eyes. “What?”

“I, uh… got a lead from someone who’s very close to the Agrestes and there’s evidence he has—or at least had the Peacock Miraculous. But knowing how he works, he probably has given it to his assistant, Natalie Sancoeur.”

“Gabriel Agreste?” she said pensively. “That can’t be, he’s been Akumatized.”

“And I’ve fooled you so that you thought my civilian self was hanging around while I was actually transformed one time, anything is possible, LB. Especially since he’s an adult. Remember what Bunnix said? Adults develop more command over the Miraculous.”

Ladybug shook her head. “But… How did you find out? Who told you?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Chat Noir. “I know, I know how it looks but… you trust me, right?”

She looked straight into his eyes and nodded.

“So please, take my word for it. I’m almost completely sure he’s Hawkmoth.”

“Okay,” she said. “Somebody ought to be checking on Adrien Agreste, then. He might be in danger if Gabriel and Natalie are Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

“I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.”

Ladybug gave him a long, thoughtful look but nothing came of it. She blinked a couple times and looked back at the city, a shaky breath escaping her lips.

“We have to make sure though,” she said. “It could be a disaster if it turned out it wasn’t him and we make a move. And even if he is, we need to figure out how to defeat him. I don’t want to let out too many Miraculous to fight Hawkmoth but at the same time I’m not sure we can defeat him just between you and me.”

“I’m working on that, too.”

Ladybug gave him a look. “Chat you’re not sneaking into his house or something like that, right? It could be very dangerous, what if he catches you? We need a plan.”

“I’m trying to get closer to Adrien Agreste,” he lied. “He might have a clue.”

“Maybe I could help,” Ladybug offered. “I know him in civilian life.”

Chat Noir bit his tongue. “It’s not necessary, Bugaboo, I also know him in civilian life. But if you’d like, be my guest. Just be careful.”

“Same to you.”

The air between them got steadily lighter as the hours passed and the nightlife of the city quieted down into a soft murmur. Ladybug’s eyelids became heavier with the flowing of the night and soon began dozing off. It only came to her attention when her head fell and found support on Chat’s shoulder. She quickly jolted and patted her cheeks to try and regain awareness.

Chat Noir chuckled. “Maybe we should head back,” he suggested.

Ladybug shook her head stubbornly.

“Why not? You’re falling asleep.”

“I’m scared you’ll leave the ring,” she admitted with a mutter.

Against his will, a powerful wave of affection for her coursed through his body which compelled him to pull her into his arms. Yet, he restrained himself and simply gave her a warm smile.

“I won’t do that, cat’s honor,” he said. Seeing as his reassurance didn’t convince her, he added, “I promise, Ladybug.”

With that, each went their own way.

Thankful that the next day would be a school holiday, Marinette planned on sleeping in and gathering her bearings. Which was why she was caught completely off guard when somebody rang her apartment’s bell sometime during the late morning the next day.

Marinette begrudgingly got out of bed to open the door and was surprised to find Luka.

Luka took her in, she was wearing pajamas and seemed she had had a long night. Her hair was a little bedraggled and there were bags under her eyes. He suspected he knew exactly why. Somebody had spotted Chat Noir and Ladybug talking at the top of the Eiffel Tower the night before. The way his stomach churned with insecurity over what could they have possibly talked about reassured him in the worst way possible, that he was about to do the right thing for both of them.

“Luka?” Marinette gasped, dread washing over her. “What– I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your texts… I was…”

He sighed. “It’s okay, Mari… Can I come in?”

Marinette simply nodded and led him to her room. Luka tried to pay no heed to how weak his legs felt as they climbed up the stairs, how his throat was tightly tied up in a painful knot.

Marinette sat on her chaise as Luka paced around nervously, trying to gather courage.

“Mari, I…”

“Stop, I know what this is about. I’m sorry I hadn’t been answering the phone, Luka. I really am. It’s just…” she looked down. “There’s been some stuff going on. I’m sorry…”

“It’s not that,” Luka said. “I figured there must be something going on if you didn’t pick up, I know you don’t mean to push me away. But that’s not why I came here.” He looked down, taking notice of his trembling hands. He sighed. “Mari, I’ve been trying so hard. But I just… I can’t take it anymore. I’m not like you.”

Marinette stared perplexed at Luka, who now stood at the center of the room looking down.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know,” he said, still not able to look at her. “You said you wouldn’t want me to tell you if I found out, but the truth is I can’t act as if nothing’s going on anymore.”

Marinette slowly caught drift of what Luka implied, feeling a sudden chill running down her spine.

“I know your secret,” he admitted, finally looking at her, who was pale as a ghost and with eyes wide open. “I didn’t mean to,” he immediately added. “It was an accident. I wanted to tell you that I knew, but I… I was so scared that you’d want to break up with me, then when Chat picked me to join you the last time I fought, I knew I had to try and tell you again. Then you said you wouldn’t want to know if I knew… But I just can’t take it anymore.”

Marinette was petrified in her seat.

“Marinette, I know you don’t mean to hurt me. But I just… I can’t take it. I tried to get used to it, but it’s just driving me mad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’ve been evading me because he was gone,” he said with a strained voice, trying his hardest not to cry in front of her.

“Luka, I– It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

“I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to explain myself without revealing my identity,” she said quietly then looked down, tears pooling in her eyes knowing that wasn’t all the truth, hating that she understood why Luka was directing the conversation to where she suspected it was headed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He’s my partner, Luka,” she explained. “I can’t just act like everything’s okay when he gets hurt.”

Luka looked down and sighed. “That never stopped you before,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You used to tell me about your life as Ladybug,” he pointed out. “I never asked questions because I really just wanted to help you, but it wasn’t hard to figure that’s what the ‘macaron mafia’ was when I discovered you were Ladybug. And then suddenly, you stopped talking about it when we started dating.”

Marinette sighed. “I did think about telling you,” she admitted, to which Luka looked up at her hopefully.

“So why didn’t you?” Luka asked, impatient at Marinette’s silence. He looked at it from her perspective. The battle against Queen Wasp ended up revealing the identity of almost all the wielders and that meant Hawkmoth knew. They were akumatization targets.

“I’ve only ever been akumatized once,” Luka said, catching drift of her logic. “Why... why don’t you trust me?” he asked, sounding more wounded than he intended.

“I do trust you, Luka. But you never know what might happen in the future,” she explained.

“Something like breaking up?” Luka asked sadly.

The silence that met his question was worse than any injury he’d ever gotten. Luka didn’t know one could possibly be in this much pain while physically intact.

“As Ladybug there’s many things I have to sacrifice. I need to be prepared for everything. At first I thought of telling you because we were just friends and you’re good at handling your emotions way more than me or Chat, even. But a break-up... that’s enough to get anyone. I’m not saying it would happen, but...”

He clung to the silence like one clings to a lifeline before falling into an abyss. He knew what he needed to say next and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words. He knew this couldn’t go on. Either way, he knew there was no way around getting hurt. Staying with her was not good for him, but leaving would break his heart.

Suddenly, he let go of his lifeline. “I think we should break up.”

“What?” Marinette said, gasping, looking up to him. “N-no! Why? I said I’m sorry.”

“Mari, I know you love him,” he said, painfully.

“I also love you. Luka, if you just give me a little time, I can just–.”

Luka walked close to her and gently took her hands in his. Then, asked a question that, though he knew was selfish, simply needed to hear the answer to, “Do you think you could love me as much as you love him?”

“I… I’m trying,” she said gently and pulled him into a hug to prove her point. “I’m trying.”

A sob finally managed to escape Luka as Marinette held him as tight as she could. “That’s the point,” he said as he snaked his arms around her, too. “I don’t want you to force yourself to feel something… something that doesn’t come naturally.”

Marinette cried.

“I… I can’t compete with him, Marinette.”

“It’s not a competition!” Marinette protested.

“I know it’s not supposed to be,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter what I do, the thought is always there, at the back of my head. I can’t help but compare myself… I’m jealous out of my mind, Marinette,” he confessed, burying his face into the nook of her neck.

“You don’t have to be,” Marinette said. “Luka, you don’t… You’re so different from him, you don’t have to be jealous of him. The way I feel about you is different.”

“I know who he is, too,” he confessed quietly. “I know I won’t be able to take it.”

Marinette pried herself off Luka’s arms, eyes wide with terror.

“It was also an accident,” he admitted, sadly. “I was hiding from an Akuma one time we had a date. You tend to pick the same places to transform,” he said.

Marinette trembled. “Luka… you… you know what will happen if Hawkmoth ever akumatizes you again?”

“I know,” he said. “I’d never put you in danger like that,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s up to you,” she said with fear in her voice

“I meant what I said when you first started confiding in me, Mari. I’ll keep your secret. You can trust me…” His voice broke again. “But… it doesn’t change how I feel. I can’t change how I feel, I can’t help wishing I was him, and getting jealous and… It’s not good or fair for you or me.”

Marinette cried softly, not finding it in herself to refute him because she knew he was right, as usual.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me too.”

Luka didn’t hang around much longer after having said what he needed to say. He didn’t want to leave Marinette crying like that, but if he didn’t leave in that instant, he knew he wouldn’t have the will keep his word and he’d inevitably backtrack on it. He’d ask for a second chance, even though he knew much like when he was Viperion, sometimes we don’t get the things we want no matter how many times we try.

He hurried back home and immediately called his friends so that they’d come to be with him. He didn’t trust himself in the state and he meant to keep his promise: He wouldn’t be akumatized, no matter the cost.

Marinette, on her part, did call Alya but once she had already gotten a good hold of her emotions. She sent her a message in the afternoon. Unbeknownst to her, Alya had to ditch going to the movies with Nino and Adrien. When they asked why the sudden change of plans, Alya had to do some mental somersaults to come up with an excuse who was believable both for Nino and Adrien.

Nino knew it wasn’t like her parents to call her for sudden babysitting duty. Adrien knew that almost any excuse she’d come up with would be inevitably related to Marinette.

“My sister broke her nose in a boxing match,” she explained. It wasn’t an entire lie, Nora had broken her nose, just not that day. “My mom and the girls were with her and apparently it’s a whole ordeal, so I need to go and pick up the girls like, asap. Sorry guys.”

It seemed to do the trick. Half an hour later, she showed up at the Dupain-Chengs’ door with two liters of caramel ice cream and her bodyweight in chocolate.

By the look on Sabine when she opened the door, it seemed Marinette had already told her parents of the breakup. She saw herself into Marinette’s room, knocking a couple of times at the trap door before entering.

Marinette was in bed, embodying the definition of a blanket burrito as she munched on a plate of macarons with Tikki.

Alya gave her a look and only sighed, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, girl.”

Marinette sniffed. “I feel like such an asshole, Alya. He didn’t deserve this. He’s so… so… good. And I hurt him so bad, you should’ve seen his face. He didn’t deserve this…”

“I don’t think it was your fault, Mari,” Alya offered. “Nor Luka’s, for that matter. Did he say why?”

“He found out by accident,” she muttered. “He knows who we both are.”

Alya hissed in sympathy for him. “Yeah… then, that makes sense.”

“Why? Who is he?” Marinette complained. “I’m getting sick and tired of everyone keeping me in the dark about this.”

“I thought Chat didn’t want to reveal his identity,” Alya said.

“He said, ‘I don’t want to get in your way,’” Marinette imitated him, doing a stupid voice. “And–and Luka! He did the same thing! He broke up with me because he thinks I love Chat more than I love him, he said he didn’t want to force me to feel something that wasn’t there. And…I get that he might think that, but he didn’t even give me a chance to–to prove to him that I also care about him!” she cried.

“Mari,” Alya said softly. “But was he right? Luka, I mean.”

“I… I do love him, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“He was right,” Marinette said, sobbing. “I feel awful that it didn’t work out, after all he did for me. He was there for me when I most needed him. He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, and I hate that I’m the one who hurt him,” Marinette cried.

Alya rubbed her back and sighed. “I know it hurts, girl. But you did the right thing. Like you say, Luka is a good person, he deserves to be with someone that can love him the way he needs to be loved.”

“I know,” Marinette admitted.

Alya perked up urgently as her thoughts caught up with her. “But what if he gets akumatized? Hawkmoth will know and then–”

“He said he’d try his best to keep the secret,” Marinette said. “I know, don’t look at me like that. But honestly, what can we do other than to try to get the upper hand on Hawkmoth before he gets akumatized? Chat said he has a lead on him, that it might be Gabriel Agreste. I figured if we manage to bust him first, then it wouldn’t really matter, would it?”

“Marinette, Luka literally just broke up with you,” she said desperately, grabbing her shoulders. “Do you not remember how absolutely awful Kagami’s Akuma was when Adrien broke up with her?”

“Why would that have to do anything with Luka?” Marinette asked, quirking her head to the side.

Alya mentally scolded herself. Too much information. “Nothing, it’s just, break-up Akumas are super powerful. And he literally knows your identity!”

“I know, but Luka isn’t anything like Kagami,” she said. “For starters, Kagami didn’t have friends to rely on when Adrien broke up with her and that’s why her Akuma was so powerful. Their breakup was just the final strike on layers on top of layers of negative emotions. Luka is not like that.”

Alya had to keep to herself the remark that Marinette perhaps had too much faith in him.

Although her conversation with Alya helped Marinette to earn some consolation, she still couldn’t help but feel devastated for the next couple days. It was natural, she supposed. But that didn’t change the fact that the breakup between Luka and her had suddenly made things a little awkward with Juleka and had unmistakably altered the dynamic of their friend group. The fact that Luka waited at the sidewalk for his sister at the end of the school day, instead of by the steps as he used to do before. The fact that he practically had to look the other way to pretend Marinette was not there.

She knew why he did it, and that it was selfish to want to talk to him. It didn’t change the fact that she desperately wished she could do something to make him feel better.

She sighed, why did everything have to be so complicated with these boys all the time? Adrien, Luka, Chat Noir. In spite of her heartache, she also couldn’t help but be a little fed-up with the whole drama that had plagued her life for the good part of two years.

As days kept on rolling, she fell back into the habit of taking anonymous metro rides and going on walks in parts of the city where she was certain she wouldn’t come across any of her acquaintances. A moment of anonymity in her civilian persona was always a good way to sort her thoughts out. Apparently, one of Paris’ resident celebrities had the same idea, she realized one of such afternoons as she found the unlikely picture of Adrien hanging out in some indistinct part of the city.

He hadn’t noticed Marinette saw him and sat on an unassuming bench in a random city promenade. His usual entourage was decidedly missing, and for some reason he had concluded that donning a ridiculously mismatching outfit a neon green cap would somehow conceal him. Marinette had to laugh. That boy wouldn’t be able to hide his identity for the life of him.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, in case you were wondering,” she teased, deciding to approach him for a quick hello. She found it refreshingly easier to talk to him now that the mess of emotions that always tied up her tongue were missing.

Adrien was effectively startled. “Marinette?”

At the same time, both asked, “What are you doing here?”

Laughing, Adrien said, “Jinx, you owe me a soda.”

“You didn’t answer my question, I owe you nothing.”

“Um… I’m sort of sneaking out,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Ah. Heard you’ve been doing that a lot, lately.”

Adrien shrugged, blushing slightly. “Teenage rebellion? What about you?”

“Just, uh, taking a walk. Clearing my head and so on.” She nodded. “Yep.”

A bit of an uncomfortable silence set between the two, and so Marinette hurried to excuse herself. “Well, I better get going. By the way, you might want to use a cap that’s not the color of a traffic sign if you want to pass unnoticed,” she joked, but Adrien distinguished the inklings of sadness in her voice. He was too used to putting up a happy face when he felt anything but to not notice Marinette was doing the same. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

His stomach churned, he hated to see her looking so down. He suspected it had something to do with Luka, probably a fight. He found himself fighting the urge to ask. He knew he shouldn’t meddle, after all, that’s the reason why he didn’t want to reveal himself. But if there was anything he could do to make her feel better, he’d give it his best shot, even if it was just as Adrien.

After a few seconds of deliberation, he stopped her. “Hey, I know this is out of nowhere and I don’t mean to be awkward but, uh, would you like to just… hang out a bit? We could find something to do. I mean, unless you’re busy…”

Marinette pondered on it for a second, taken a bit aback by the proposition. “Sure, why not. What do you have in mind?”

Adrien stood up and dusted off his pants. “Are you up for a little breaking and entering?”

“Erm. No?”

He laughed. “It’s not as illegal as it sounds, I promise.”

Adrien and Marinette headed to the first convenience shop they could find to buy as many snacks as they could fit in Marinette’s backpack. They were essential to his plan, Adrien assured as he insisted on paying the whole loot himself.

Thanks to his neon cap, they almost busted his cover but after a few “Oh really? You think I look like Adrien Agreste? heh. I get that a lot,” they managed to buy their goods. Once packed, Adrien started testing the front doors of different apartment buildings to find one which wouldn’t be locked.

“Success,” he said, as they found one after a few tries.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked, completely confused as she followed him through the stairs all the way to the top floor, where he struggled with the door to the roof. He pulled a card from his wallet and clicked it open.

Marinette was absolutely dumbfounded.

“You are an actual criminal,” she said, laughing breathily.

“After you,” he said, and then grabbed an indistinct bottle which lay on the rooftop to prevent the door from closing.

They sat down at the edge of the rooftop and emptied Marinette’s backpack, each grabbing the drink of their choice. As Adrien deliberated which pack of gummies–since gummies were his favorite–to open first, Marinette tried to push away how awfully reminiscent this was of her meetings with Chat Noir. On very quiet nights, one of them, usually Chat, would volunteer to detransform, head to a convenience store or a kebab shop to grab a late-night snack, which they would eat at the top of their favorite sightseeing spots.

“So, this is what you do in your free time?” Marinette said, opening a bag of chips to go with her soda. “Sneaking into people’s rooftops?”

“You could say that, I guess,” he said.

Marinette shook her head as she munched on the chips.

“It’s just nice to hang out where no one will find you sometimes,” he explained.

“Yeah, I can see the appeal…” After a moment of silent contemplation of the landscape, Marinette spoke again, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Only if I get to ask you something, too,” he said with a wink, to which Marinette rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Okay, shoot,” he said.

“How come you’ve been so rebellious lately? I mean, I just noticed you’ve been missing your gazillion things to do, and Nino just mentions it sometimes. I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… you always seemed so, so–”

“Boring?”

“Perfect.”

Adrien scrunched his nose in disgust as he stuffed his mouth with a handful of Haribo bear gummies. “Precisely because of that. I’m tired of acting like someone I’m not.” He sighed. “I was doing it to please my father because I thought… I thought if I just did what he wanted he’d get out of his head and mourn my mom like a normal freaking person. But lately I’ve realized he’s not grieving her, he’s just an asshole.”

Marinette perked up at the comment, suddenly remembering Chat Noir’s suspicions.

“That sounds tough… Is there anything in particular that he does, or…?”

Adrien gave her a funny glance. “He made me homeschooled ‘til age fifteen. And he also sorts of forced me into this whole model thing. I mean, I don’t have anything against it, but I would like to stop at some point. My dad will probably have an aneurysm when that happens, though.”

Marinette chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, I just try not to think about it ‘cause otherwise it just gets super depressing,” he said, pulling his knees to his chest. “Can I ask you now?”

Marinette nodded.

“How come you’re so… calm right now?”

“Calm?”

“I think this is the first time we’ve had a full conversation,” Adrien said, with a bit of a blush. “It’s… nice.”

“Oh. That, heh.” Marinette blushed, too. “I don’t know, you always just made me a little nervous, is all.”

“Why, is it because I’m famous?” he said, acting smug so as to annoy her, to which Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Ugh. You’re so full of yourself,” she said, chuckling. She didn’t know what came over her as she jabbed him with her elbow. There was a certain familiarity to the lightness of their conversation that she couldn’t pinpoint, something that made her simply trust him.

Adrien was surprisingly open about himself. It could be they were enjoying a sort of privacy that was almost just reserved for her and Chat Noir, but it was pleasantly surprising. She almost felt sad that she hadn’t gotten over him before.

A few years ago, she would never had done this in a million years, but in the light of how her breakup with Luka made her realize important things about herself, she just decided to let him know.

“It’s kind of silly, actually,” she said. “I used to have this huge crush on you.”

Adrien coughed on his drink. “Really?” he said, managing to sound shocked. It was not because he didn’t know, but because he was surprised Marinette actually had the guts to admit it to his face.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But it’s all water under the bridge now, don’t worry.”

“Oh, sure!” Adrien said, laughing nervously and unable to feel a little wounded. “And anyway, how are things with Luka?”

“That’s two questions in a row,” she teased, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic.

He rolled her eyes, ruffled her hair, and used the distraction to snatch the bag of chips from her hands.

“Hey! What you’d do that for?” she exclaimed.

“There’s your question,” he said grinning at her and handing her the bag again.

Marinette laughed, faking indignance.

“You don’t have to answer that, though,” Adrien said, assuming a quieter demeanor. “I just noticed you’ve been looking a bit down lately, and Luka doesn’t hang out with the group anymore, so I thought maybe something was going on… but actually, don’t answer. It’s nosy of me, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said with a sigh, looking out to the city. “Actually, we just broke up,” she admitted, sadly.

“What?”

Marinette shrugged, without looking at him as tears were threatening to make an appearance. “We just… we weren’t right for each other.”

Adrien regretted the turn the conversation had turned. “You really love him, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Yes… no… I don’t know,” she admits. “It’s complicated. I do love him, just… not in the way he wants me to–it’s just… It’s a mess. I really care about him, but I realized lately that I sort of love someone else, so it’s really not fair to keep dating him. And he was the one that broke up with me, anyway. He was smart enough to figure it out before even I did,” She sniffed and suddenly realized what she just had done. “Oh, wow. And just like that I’m oversharing. I’m so sorry, I rant without noticing, sorry,” she said blinking back tears and fanning her face, chuckling with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Adrien hurried to reassure her, if only so as to hide the confusion Marinette’s confession stirred inside him. “I don’t mind.”

After a while he said, “I get it, though. It’s the same reason I broke up with Kagami.”

Marinette turned to look at him. “It sucks big time,” he said. “I didn’t want to let her down because she’s a great girl and she was unbelievably good to me, but… At one point you just realize it’s just not fair.”

Marinette nodded, surprised that Adrien would understand exactly where she was coming from. “That’s… that’s… you get it, yeah.”

The moment was abruptly interrupted by a sort of commotion. A massive electric blue cloud of dust rose in the horizon, then contracted, then expanded, again and again. It was an Akuma, no doubt, but it seemed almost as if it was glitching. As if the butterfly couldn’t decide whether or not to akumatize.

Both of them stood up at the same time, snacks forgotten.

“Uh… we should get down,” Adrien offered, knowing that Marinette would probably look for an excuse to go transform. “It’s not safe up here with an Akuma around.”

“Right!”

They rushed downstairs and out to the street. Marinette seemed evidently stressed that she wouldn’t be able to shake him off so again, for her benefit, he inconspicuously played his ringtone and pretended someone had called him.

“Yes? Aha. Yes. Okay.”

He pretended to end the call. “I should probably head home,” he said. “They found out I’m sneaking out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too–I mean, my parents don’t like it if I’m out and there’s an Akuma, so… see ya!” she said.

Adrien had to laugh at the fact she didn’t even wait for him to say his goodbyes.

He turned to an indistinct alley to transform and vaulted in the direction of the Akuma.

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thecreelhouse · 4 years

Text

you are where I belong

Paring: Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Summary: A little glimpse into the life you’ve built in Hawkins, side by side with your soulmate, Steve, as the two of you get ready to celebrate Halloween. (Continuation of Feral Love, it’ll make more sense if you’ve read the series, however it should be fine to read on its own!)

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: maybe some language? suggestive themes if you squint, briefest mention of loss and mourning, but the rest is strictly absolute fluff.

A/N: hi y’all! It’s been a minute since I’ve posted! Like mentioned above, this is a little continuation of Feral Love, but I think it can still be read alone if you haven’t read that series! Either way, I hope y’all enjoy! Title is from paper route’s ‘sugar’. Also, please don’t mind me scrambling to catch up on missing the last two weekends of lil Halloween fics lol. Thanks for your patience and support! <3

A year has passed since you and Steve crossed paths in this life. One year since you, quite literally, crashed into his house and life, escaping your family and their destructive values. One year since you faced your sister, Victoria, to rid the world of her cruelty, to keep Steve, his friends, Hawkins, all safe and sound.

One year since you made a deal with Death herself, sending you into the Upside Down, keeping your end of the promise, so long as Steve was kept safe.

It had been one year since Death saw the love you had for Steve, the way you had sacrificed your own life to protect him. The way you vowed to destroy the Upside Down to keep everyone safe, to finally end the pain and suffering that had been looming over Hawkins for years. Death saw your efforts and resilience driven by your love, and gave you a second chance, letting you continue and keep this life with Steve, for as long as life would actually allow.

“Steve, honey, can you hang these lights for me? You’re taller than I am.” You ask Steve, holding out a bundle of string lights to him while you pout his way. Steve’s eyes narrow through his wire frame glasses at you, but still can’t hide the smile curling at the edge of his lips as he grabs the lights.

Steve steps up to the counter, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, and you feel the same butterflies you’ve felt every day this past year with him. You’ve felt this way in this life and your shared past life, and you can’t imagine existing without the warmth and safety his tiny gestures hold.

It’s been one year, and you’re happy. The two of you are truly safe. You moved in with Steve and Robin into the house they shared, and you eventually opened a cozy, quaint cafe in downtown Hawkins. You loved selling tea blends, knowing you were making a small, but good difference in people’s lives when they indulged in their hot cups of tea. You made others feel cozy, comfortable, and safe.

‘Safe’ had to have become your favourite word in the past year.

You lean your elbows onto the counter, watching as Steve presses up on his toes to reach a wooden beam above him, hanging the string lights across old nails left behind by the previous owners. When he stretches up, a sliver of his hip is revealed as his cozy sweater rides up. You can’t help but let your gaze travel over his body, letting yourself become lost in the intimate memories you’ve shared with him in the last year. Heat creeps up your face, standing your peach fuzz on end as you continue to silently admire Steve from across the room.

“Sugar, if you just wanted to stare, you could’ve told me.” Steve teases, glancing over his shoulder at you. The nickname is still fairly new to you, making your stomach flip each time he uses it. It’s sticky sweet, dripping in admiration and care for you, and it’s just another one of those tiny gestures that wraps you up in that warm, safe feeling with Steve.

You clear your throat as you stand up, rocking back and forth on your heels. “Sorry, can’t help it, love.”

Steve finishes up the string of lights before plugging them in; a soft, orange haze glows over the cafe, making the atmosphere even warmer. Your face lights up at the change across the shop, and Steve notices, smiling as he admires your happiness before striding across the room to meet you. His hands wrap around your waist, tugging you closer to him, and you collapse into a hug, arms squeezing him back with a great force that makes him laugh.

“Anything else you want me to hang up?” Steve asks, one hand reaching to your back, gently rubbing it as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You shake your head, face buried in the soft, knit yarn of his sweater.

“That was the last of it. Thank you, love.” You mumble, getting lost in the comfort of the hug. “We’re ready for the best time of the year, now!”

Steve chuckles, pulling your face back gently as he looks down at you, hand caressing your cheek. “And we can actually enjoy fall together, this time.”

You press up on your feet, lips meeting his to kiss him gently, and Steve smiles into the kiss as he hugs your body closer to his. He flicks his tongue against your bottom lip, and you part your lips, taking him in, sighing into the kiss as it deepens. Steve backs you up to the counter, lifting you onto it before kissing across your jaw and down your neck, making you shiver under his touch.

“Steve!” You giggle, head lolling to the side as your eyes flutter shut in bliss while his soft lips linger on your neck.

“What? It’s not like the shop’s open right now.” Steve teases, nipping at your skin, earning a whimper out of you as he soothed the spot over with his tongue.

“Yeah, but-“ You pause, holding back a groan as his large hands trail up under your shirt, fingers tracing over your belly as he reaches further up. “- Let’s go home, love. We can finish this there.”

Steve sighs, resting his head on your shoulder for a moment in defeat as you giggle again, and he pulls back, admiring the way you looked flustered. He smirks before pulling his hands out of your shirt and nodding.

“You’re right, sorry, sugar.” Steve says, holding a hand out to help you down off the counter. He doesn’t let go when you reach the floor, only laces his fingers between yours. “It’s getting late, anyway.”

The two of you gather your belongings before you lock up shop, and begin walking to Steve’s car. You give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go, smiling up at him.

“Keep calling me that, and I’ll be putty in your hands all night, love.”

———

The month of October was filled with Halloween festivities. Nearly every day you kept busy with fun ways to celebrate with Steve, and usually the rest of the Party, too.

It was such a welcomed change compared to the year prior. From adventuring to the pumpkin patch with Steve and the kids, getting lost in a corn maze, scary movie nights— that you swore Steve only planned to cuddle with you more— and planning out your costume, these memories were slowly becoming priority in your mind over the war during last year’s October.

“What do you mean you’ve never had apple cider?” You whisper across the cafe’s counter, staring at El in disbelief.

She stares back for a moment before shrugging, not understanding the big fuss. While she’s a little older now- all the kids are, slowly growing away from the title as children- she still holds the same innocence and pure wonder she’s always carried. You wonder if it’ll be something she wears no matter what age she reaches.

You quickly whip up a batch of hot cider for the party, pouring it into round, little mugs for them all. You hand El’s mug to her, and as the warmth hits her palms, she beams a bright smile as a thank you before rushing back to the table.

Overhearing Dustin grumble, “Aw man, how’d you get yours first?!” to El, you giggle, looking over to Steve, setting up some pumpkins the kids painted in the cafe’s front window, humming to the songs over the radio.

Not wanting to bother him, you snap your fingers, sending the mugs up in the air before smoothly sailing over to the round table in the corner of the shop the kids have claimed as their own. You watch as Will’s eyes follow the mugs from above before they float down gently to the table. He’s wearing a grin that could be seen for miles; you can only hope and help where you can to make sure that happiness he always deserves lasts forever.

In a way, these kids that had become Steve’s found family, became yours, too. Just how Steve would do anything to protect them, you’d also do whatever you could to keep them safe and happy.

Arms wrap around your waist from behind before Steve speaks softly, “You might become their favourite grown-up next.”

You chuckle as you spin in his arms, admiring the way the orange lights glow over Steve’s features as he smiles down at you. You press up on the balls of your feet, reaching to kiss him softly for a moment before letting yourself back down.

“What? No way, they adore you too much.” You say to Steve, to which he shrugs playfully.

“You say that like they don’t adore you, too.” Steve counters, leaning down to kiss you. As his lips meet yours, a round of hollers and comments like ‘Gross! Ew!’, echo out into the room. Steve sighs, rolling his eyes before looking back at the party.

“Hey, shitheads, behave,” He warns as he points a finger to them. You tilt your head into his chest, trying to hide your laughter. “You’re lucky Y/N didn’t hex the cider.”

Feigning offense, you gasp, playfully pushing Steve’s arm as you face the kids, half of them pausing mid-sip.

“Don’t listen to this big goofball, I would never.” You reassure, and the kids laugh it off, going back to their conversations. Max, though, still looks over at you curiously, before asking what’s on her mind.

“Don’t you jump off the roof or something on Halloween?” Max asks, genuinely curious. The question still takes you aback; you never mentioned that tradition to anyone except…

“Shut up!” Dustin hisses across the table, and Max shrugs as she holds her hands up.

“What? You’re the one that talked about it!”

Dustin’s eyes flick from Max to you, to Steve, nervous, but you laugh heartily at his reaction.

“To answer the question Mr. Big Mouth had given you, technically yes,” You begin, taking a sip of your own cider, watching as Dustin shrinks in his seat, smiling off his own embarrassment. The rest of the conversations fade out, all eyes on you, patiently waiting. “But usually, it’s with the coven… which doesn’t really exist anymore, so there’s no point or excitement with just one witch, really.”

“What? Are you kidding? That’d still be so cool!” Lucas exclaims, and you watch Will and Mike nod in agreement.

“It was just- it’s very silly alone, you guys would not be interested in seeing that.” You try playing it off, but the kids all speak up at once, spewing their thoughts about the cafe.

“What was it for?” El asks, speaking up just enough above the chatty voices among her. The kids quiet down once more, looking back to you for another answer.

Steve gives your arm a comforting squeeze before you go on.

“It’s kind of a tie-in for Samhain, at least for our coven it was. Everyone has different ways of celebrating.” You explain cautiously, hoping it made sense to everyone around you. “Samhain is the time of year the veil is the thinnest between our world and the afterlife. So, jumping was sort of my coven’s way of cleansing our minds and souls before we would communicate with our ancestors. Y’know, kind of like… shaking off a bad mood.

“It’s not necessary for me now, though. It’s simply a ritual without much meaning when I have no one to contact anymore…” You trail off, thinking of how you’re the last left of your family, your coven. You shake your head as if to shake out the negative thoughts, “But- but that’s alright! We’re making new traditions, and I’m thankful you’ve all included me in your fun festivities this year.”

Understanding not to continue the subject, the kids nod and move on back to their previous conversations. You look back at Steve to see the small smile of sympathy he gives you, and reach for his hand, squeezing in return as a silent ‘thank you’.

———

Later that night, as you and Steve climb under the covers, cuddling up into one another, the topic comes back up once more.

“Hey, sugar,” Steve pulls you close to him, kissing your head softly. You stay silent, wrapping your arms around his body. “I’m sorry about earlier. The kids— they didn’t mean it, but-“

“That’s all, Steve. The kids didn’t mean it, they’re just curious, as they should be. It’s okay, really.” You interject, trying to reassure Steve. Still, he sighs heavily, tilting your face up to his with his finger lifting your chin gently.

“What about your parents?”

“My- my parents? Steve, you know what happened last year, right?”

“Right- yeah- yes— I know that.” Steve speaks quickly, “Can’t you try to communicate with them this year, though?”

The thought has crossed your mind many times this month alone, and you have considered it, but ultimately, what would you say? What would they say? Would they even answer to any attempts of divination? The relationship you had with your family was always strained, it wasn’t really worth the effort to reach out, even into the liminal space.

Still, even if it were worth attempting, overall, this was where you were meant to be all along. Wherever Steve was, that’s where you belonged. Nothing could change that force built upon a bond between soulmates.

“That part of my life is well over now, love.” You reply, voice shaky yet certain in your words. You reach up to cup Steve’s face in your hands, gazing at him with admiration and unconditional love. “I’ve found my real family, here, with you and yours.”

Steve stares back, searching your face for any signs of doubt or regret, but you remain calm, holding your statement strong. Steve runs his hands through your hair gently, peppering your face in soft and sweet kisses, making you giggle under his touch.

“I-“ he pauses to kiss your temple, “- love you-“ another kiss to your forehead, “-forever-“ he kisses the swell of your cheek as you continue laughing, “- and ever-“ a kiss to your nose, “- and ever”, his lips finally meet yours, and you melt into the kiss.

As you pull back with a grin, you look at Steve longingly before teasing him, “Sounds like someone else earned the nickname ‘sugar’.”

His face blushes up as he rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

“You’ll always have a family with us. You’ll always have a place to call home with us.” Steve reassures, though you knew, you felt it strongly. Still, his affirmations were comforting, always.

“You are where I belong, Steve.” You murmur into the crook of his neck, kissing his skin lightly. Steve squeezes you again, at a loss of words perfect enough for a response.

Pulling back, you admire his features for a moment before speaking again, “We should get to sleep, we’ve got a big day tomorrow helping the kids with their costumes before trick-or-treating.”

“I think you are more excited for trick-or-treating than the party has ever been,” Steve teases, and you stick your tongue out in response.

“I’ve never done it before!” You counter, pinching Steve’s arm, to which he laughs at. “It’s a good thing Robin’s helping us with our zombie makeup.”

“I’m well aware you’ve never trick-or-treated, otherwise you wouldn’t have picked the most overrated Halloween costume,” Steve continues teasing, sneakily reaching his fingers out to begin tickling you. Your laugh rings out loudly through the room, and Steve is at ease when the sound hits his ears, admiring the smile growing across your face.

Steve pauses for a moment, drinking the sight of you, joyful, lost in safety and bliss with his goofy antics as your giggles slow down. You take the opportunity to flip the two of you over, hovering above Steve. His grin mirrors yours while he blushes again underneath you, reaching his hand up to cradle the side of your face. You lean into his touch, still catching your breath from your laughter.

Your eyes dart over to the clock on the nightstand, reading 12:00 AM, and glance back down at Steve excitedly. “It’s midnight, it’s officially Halloween!”

Steve chuckles at your enthusiasm, “Happy Halloween, sugar.” He pulls you down to catch your lips in a soft, slow kiss. The spark you’ve had in this life and the past, had never faded. It’d continue to shine bright into the next life, too.

Pulling back a bit, you gaze at Steve, feeling lucky that things fell into place the way they did one year ago, and how you’d never, ever take any moment longer with Steve for granted.

As if reading your mind, Steve murmurs against your lips your thought from earlier, “You are where I belong, Y/N.”

———

Taglist (from both S.H. oneshot and FL lists): @harringtown @harrington-ofhawkins @nxncywheeler @ilovebucketbarnes @stranger-noah @cececroft @heart-eye-harrington @comedy-witch @mochminnie @starssscary @anotherr-fine-mess @asheseiler

#steve harrington x witch!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things x witch!reader #you are where i belong #feral love #my fics #no i still dont have a name for my lil bundle of halloween fics mind ur biz

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mo-nighean-rouge · 4 years

Photo

Gone - Epilogue

Jamie Fraser prepares to send Claire and Faith through the stones. A last-minute interference changes everything.

A/N: This is it, folks. Again, thanks to @ianmuyrray for betaing, and to all of you who have read along, or might just be starting now.

November 20, 1748 | Paris, France

“Seas, a bhailach,” Jamie whispered to the beast as he brushed its shining coat. He’d taken quickly to the horses in Mary Hawkins Randall’s stables, but the black sorrel pony had stolen his heart for its similarity in appearance and character to his own Donas.

The horse was still riled after his afternoon jaunt with Faith. The lass had more confidence than experience on horseback, and had led the horse into mischief with a puddle, even under her father’s close supervision.

Jamie had sent Murtagh upstairs to deliver a squirming and filthy Faith to Claire. In fact, it had been quite a while since, and he hoped the man was not dallying his time flirting with Suzette, who had recently come into the Randall estate’s employ.

Dubh, aptly named by Faith, huffed impatiently as Jamie recalled Grey’s promise to release Donas, Brimstone, Thistle, and Blanc within ten miles of Lallybroch.

A week after their arrival in Paris, Jenny had written of Ian’s surprise to open the front door one morn and find all four beasts grazing in the kailyard.

It warmed Jamie’s heart to imagine the sight, and made him long for home all the more.

He hadn’t long to wait, as their parole was nearly complete and they would soon see the shores of Scotland once again. Much as he was willing to sacrifice the sight to see to his family’s safety, he was looking forward to leaving the confines of the city.

Jamie figured it couldn’t come at a better time. While Mistress Randall had welcomed their company in the lonesome and overwhelming time she had found herself, she had recently made a good match. According to Claire’s account, Robert Isaacs made Mary very happy, and the engaged couple were looking forward to staffing their well-established estate.

So long as the bairn arrived safely within the next few weeks, the Fraser family would stay whole and make it back to their homeland. Jamie couldn’t wait to re-introduce his children to Lallybroch, and most of all, watch the years touch Claire…

Jamie’s thoughts were interrupted by the swift re-entry of Murtagh, balancing Faith on his shoulders. While the lass wore a fresh dress, her face had only been wiped quickly, still smudged with streaks of dirt.

Murtagh grinned. “Ye’re needed upstairs, a charaid. The bairn seems to be comin’ quick, and Claire’s asking fer ye.” He bounced Faith once, and she broke into giggles.

Jamie dropped the brush and let it clatter to the stable floor. He wasn’t sure he could keep his jaw from doing the same. “Ah dhia, she’s laboring now?”

“Aye lad, get tae it. Ye don’ want to miss the birth of your son.”

Jamie nodded, clapping his godfather on the shoulder. He felt his eyes mist over as he studied the man that has served his family since before he was born.

“Ye have the bairns? The others?” he asked, stammering, his mind rushing to catch up.

“O’ course, just fetch us when ye’re ready.”

“Thank you, a ghostidh… for everything.”

“Och,” Murtagh exclaimed. “Dinna get soft on me now. Go see yer lady.”

Jamie raced out of the barn, heart hammering. That she be safe, she and the bairn...

“Da!” Fergus called in the corridor, the lad balancing a stack of clean rags from the kitchen. Jamie stopped short to gasp for breath.

The lad had called him such by a slip of the tongue during their first weeks back in Paris – so used to hearing Faith use the precious word – then had immediately blushed scarlet.

Jamie had simply clasped his shoulder and returned with a simple “Aye, mon fils?” as he had called the boy for more than a year.

Fergus had cautiously tested the word ‘Mama’ out on Claire not long after, bringing her to tears as her heart soared.

“You heard about Mama?” Fergus exclaimed, rocking back on his heels in his excitement.

“Aye,” Jamie cracked a smile. “Gi’ those here, I’ll take them on my way. I’d like ye to bide in the barn with Murtagh.”

The lad’s face fell. “But if Mama needs me –”

“Dinna fash about yer mam. Faith needs ye.”

Fergus brightened. “You can count on me, Da.”

Jamie concentrated on the soft weave of the old towels in his hands as he mounted the stairs two at a time, eager to reach his wife. In his hurry, he tripped over the blonde porcelain doll that had been cast aside and forgotten earlier. He shuddered. Annalise had once gifted the toy to his daughter, and its resemblance to the woman herself was that bit frightening.

He burst through their bedroom door, nearly plowing over Mary, who was setting water to boil as if she were lady’s maid to Claire, rather than the other way around.

“Apologies, Mistress,” he murmured, grasping her elbows to keep her upright.

“Jamie!” she exclaimed, squeezing his arm. “You’re just in time.”

He was careful as he squeezed back, unsure of the strength of his grip, especially as his eyes landed on Claire with her face red and scrunched in pain, breathing rhythmically at the gentle direction of Mother Hildegard. Her eyes popped open to meet his, relief swelling in their whisky depths.

Jamie crossed the room in four steps, his hand finding Claire’s naturally as he knelt to kiss the old woman’s wrinkled cheek. “Good afternoon to ye, Mother.” Mary had housed the nun in one of her many guestrooms for the past week, well aware that Claire’s time was quickly approaching.

He brought Claire’s warm, sweaty hand to his lips as he kneeled behind her stool, content for her to use him in any way she wished. He’d missed the birth of their first child, and had since sworn she’d never go through the experience alone again.

Just then, Claire braced her back against Jamie as she wailed in pain. Her short fingernails scored Jamie’s palms as the contraction crested and she breathed out deeply.

“That’s a braw lass, a ghraidh,” Jamie whispered, placing a kiss on her shoulder and caressing the swell of her belly.

Several sharp contractions later, Mother Hildegard continued softly coaching at Claire’s knee. “Keep breathing, my child. I can almost see the head.”

“Jamie,” Claire croaked, short of breath. “If anything happens…” she whispered, just as the powerful force overtook her body once again and she screamed.

“I willna hear that talk, Claire,” he answered sternly, massaging her lower back.

“Push, Claire.” Mother Hildegard’s voice rose above the noise of the room.

Jamie felt Claire inhale deeply once more, then gather her strength from him for the task ahead.

________________________________________

Claire smiled through her tears, admiring the little one cradled in her arms. Mary had bathed the baby as Claire delivered the afterbirth, then passed their blessing swiftly to Jamie, who had admired the sight with flooded eyes until tiny lips had begun rooting around for sustenance.

Their newest child had latched on with impressive speed and skill, inspiring jokes about Jamie’s own appetite.

The man himself eased carefully to Claire’s side, placing a steady arm around her and pressing his face into her neck, just watching her sustain the new life.

Little brown eyes popped open as the meal ended, searching for something familiar in their new surroundings.

“Hello, baby boy,” she cooed. While the lad’s red fuzz stood out starkly from the moment he appeared, she was thrilled to find something of herself in him.

Jamie reached over her shoulder to brush the boy’s diminutive cheek with his broad thumb. “He’s a braw lad, Sassenach.” He kissed her hair. “Thank ye for our son.”

Claire grasped the hand he had left on her shoulder, swaying gently with the baby. “He’s just as much a gift from you to me. We’re so lucky to have him, all of them.”

A gentle knock sounded from the door, followed by Mary peering around the corner, her own wee Denys at her heels. “Ready for some introductions?” she asked softly.

Claire sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Please, bring them in.”

“Mama!” Faith scrambled in, dragging Murtagh behind her. She approached the bedside slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of the bundle in Claire’s lap.

Jamie stood to give her a boost upward, settling their daughter between them easily. “What do ye think, a chuisle?”

“So bonny!” Faith whispered, reaching to grasp Claire’s free hand. “Ye did it all by yerself, Mama?”

Jamie chuckled. “She did, lass. Wasn’t that canny of your mam?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Da cheered me on.” She squeezed Faith’s hand. “I’m glad you like him, Lovey.”

Murtagh slapped Jamie’s shoulder before leaning over to pat Claire’s. “A wee lad, then?”

“Mmmph,” Jamie replied, grinning widely.

Fergus appeared in the open doorway. “Look who is up from her nap!” Holding tight to his hand was a toddler with red hair already trailing halfway down her back, rubbing her eye with her free hand.

She perked up at the sight of her parents, dashing to the bedside and slamming into Murtagh’s knees. He scooped her up swiftly, depositing her on the mattress knees first. She scrambled closer to Claire’s knee, looming over little brother.

“It’s the bairn?!” she squealed, bouncing in place.

“Gentle, Bree.” Faith scolded. “He’s still wee, see?”

“Sae wee,” Brianna whispered reverently.

Jamie chuckled. “You were this size once too, a nighean ruaidh.”

“And you were even smaller,” Claire added, tickling Faith’s chin.

The girls exchanged dubious looks.

“Nah.”

“Canna be!”

Fergus stopped next to Claire. “How do you feel, Mama?”

Claire’s heart warmed for the son of her heart. He’d offered to wait on her hand and foot these last few weeks, to the point that she’d laughed and told him to take a rest for himself.

Claire leaned her head against him as his arms folded carefully around her neck. “Just fine, my love. Would you like to hold him?”

Fergus nodded, his eyes wide.

Claire eased the baby into his arms, reminding him to be gentle of his head and neck. She welcomed Bree into her arms not a moment later, smoothing hair out of her blue eyes.

Murtagh cleared his throat, ineffectively covering his emotions. “So who do we have here?

Claire met Jamie’s twinkling eye, nodding her approval.

“This is Robert Franklin Murtagh William Fraser.” He swallowed deeply. “Our second son.”

Murtagh’s bushy eyebrow had creased at the second of the boy’s names, but he stood visibly straighter at the third. “’Tis a fine name.”

“That’s so many,” Bree stage-whispered, to the amusement of everyone else.

Faith rolled her eyes dramatically. “No more than you, Brianna Ellen Claire Jan-dit Fraser,” she taunted.

“Alright,” Claire sighed. “The lot of you all have as many names as the others. It’s certainly not a competition.”

Jamie chuckled. “That’s enough o’ that. Stop bouncing. We should let your mam get some rest.”

The children each kissed their mother’s cheek, then let their father herd them out the door as he cradled wee Rob to his chest.

Claire watched them file out the door one by one, each stopping for one more glimpse of her and the baby. She waved at them fondly, blowing kisses. Before Jamie could follow them into the corridor, she caught his hand.

“Stay?” she asked him.

“Aye.” A smile tickled his lips. “I willna go far.”

Claire patted the empty space next to her. “Here.”

He turned, then folded her into his side carefully.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, watching their son sleep until her own eyes drifted shut, a promise of their life together, and their family’s to come.

April 17, 1967 | Oxford, England

Professor Roger MacKenzie Wakefield shuffled through the ever-growing piles of paper crowding his office desk. Amid his lesson plans, papers still to grade, and disorganized files, he’d be surprised if he set off for home in time for supper.

Even still, his curiosity overwhelmed him as he broke the seal on an envelope of research left for him by his colleague. Ever since he was a boy, fascinated by the solemn disappearance of Claire Randall, he had pieced together clues about her whereabouts with the help of his beloved uncle. Her husband’s death last year had only energized his search. Perhaps if he could find answers at long last, it would bring meaning to the most discouraging period of Frank’s life.

More and more, the evidence had begun to point toward something not of this world, much as Mrs. Graham had insisted over the years. He retrieved the file that he had been accumulating for decades, thumbing through what he already knew. The marriage certificate for one James Fraser and Claire Beauchamp, the Deed of Sassine willing the Lallybroch Estate to a James Murray, and a curious pamphlet of medical advice attributed to a C.E.B.R. Fraser.

Roger dumped the new stack of documents on top of the current chaos. The top sheet caught his eye, heart skipping a beat as he read the photocopied print dated from the 1770s, with only the last digit smudged:

"It is with grief that the news is received of the deaths by fire of JAMES MACKENZIE FRASER and his wife, MISTRESS CLAIRE BEAUCHAMP FRASER, in a conflagaration that destroyed several crofts on the estate of Broch Tuarach. Their five children: FERGUS CLAUDEL, FAITH GLENNA, BRIANNA ELLEN, ROBERT FRANKLIN, AND JULIA ELIZABETH, also perished and now lay at rest with them."

Roger shook his head and blinked. Once. Twice. All the hope and warm imaginings he held for the kind woman that he was almost sure he remembered, all for them to be dashed with one headline bearing tragedy.

If there was something, anything, he could do for her and her family, he would in a heartbeat.

He stilled, skin tingling. Christ, but who was to say there wasn’t…

FIN

*Note: The obit is adapted from a screenshot of the news clipping from Outlander Season 4, all credit due.

#Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Faith Fraser #Brianna Fraser #Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser #Fergus Fraser #Roger MacKenzie #Gone #Canon Divergence au #Outlander #Outlander fanfic #my fic

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punsandfuturekingsmen-archive · 3 years

Text

//If you go to read this, also consider reading Splatter’s original version here!

A lot of the events are very much the same as they are in that piece, and the dialogue parts are pretty much word for word since it’s from Splatterlewis’s perspective! I just added a bit from Arthur near the end and here and there, and just played around with describing things haha.

He thought that might be the end of it, or at least he thought he knew what to expect next, given his own history with his own Lewis.

So when the next flash didn’t involve trucks or fights with tree yokai, he felt confusion fuzz at the corners of his brain. No… it was somewhere deep and dark. He wandered in some kind of stupor, filled to the brim with a hundred thoughts and feelings, all of them cutting at his skin like knives and a rage that continued to burn in his chest. The rest was vague to leave an impression, but it still stabbed at him as he stumbled along.

But even in the haze he wandered in, he noticed when something began to stalk him from the shadows. The signs of their presence were clear: the area seemed to shift green and bleed it from the earth and sky. Smoke filled every nick and cranny, thick enough to choke on by any who might need to breathe.

He felt himself pulled from the daze with a snap. Something about the spirit set off alarm bells in his mind and left the hairs on his arms and neck standing on end. The smoke and the green consumed everything, the shade just right to remind him of somewhere else. His brain fired on all cylinders, trying to remember anything Vivi might have said that could help him. All that came to him was that this was something powerful. Something dangerous.

He still couldn’t see it in the smoke, but he could feel the weight of its presence. He called out for it, shouting into the green void an almost challenge. Seeing the cave’s greens made him wonder, and he asked if it came to finish what was left of him. The cry reverberated around him in the emptiness, seeming to ricochet off smoke.

The feeling of something dangerous grew stronger, rocking against him like a crescendo in a song mourning his end. But he didn’t want to end here, and his hands ignited with shimmering violet-pink flames. His eyes darted around the whole of the place, searching for movement.

A laugh alerted him, though the aura of power from the thing that found him might have done just the same if it hadn’t. A voice old as time and antique in accent spoke. The tone was something that itched at his skin..

“Boy, I have never met you… Lewis, is it? Such a lovely name, for a lovely soul… So full of fire, of power, and rage. Why would I wish to drive you to hell, when you are the key to my freedom?”

He could feel himself heating up. The fires in his hand seemed to brighten until they blurred the air at the edges of each flame. His hair felt warmer, and shades of pink glistened and reflected off green smoke from where it was now glimmering, ready to ignite.

A clarity struck him, that this was not what he’d met before. It was something greater.

“Show yourself!” He called for the thing, teeth flashing in a grimace. Anger bubbled at the notion of being scared by this thing. By it trying to intimidate him. He was not about to lose, not after everything he had gone through.

But then they obliged.

The skeleton that moved into view was verdant, a hue of green that was deep and dark. Scant remains of decaying flesh still hung from putrid bones, and each piece that lingered had names endlessly scrawled, carved and etched into every inch of skin until they nearly lost meaning, but did not overlap. A cloth kilt and robes hung from its form and swayed with the steps it took, barely clinging to the emaciated remains of the creature and worn in places to threads.

On the head of the skull was a carving. One that recognition pricked at him distantly for. It was the one he’d seen on Lewis’s head for years. But this one, blackened as char and cracked, seemed to give off a shadowy aura, absorbing the light to nothing around it in way that made it seem to glow. It had never looked like that on Splatter. Or… not that he knew of. But what did he really know?

The memory seized him again. “Such a demanding tone, for someone about to lose their soul… You have a fire in you, a fire I need. And you will give it, aye?”

He felt a flash of pride, or protective fury, and he pointed to the creature with a fist wreathed in fire and a glare Mrs. Pepper would have been proud of (the thought hurt as it struck him). “You can never have my soul, I refuse. No one can have it!”

The skeleton moved in a way that divulged something of its thought of what he had said, but he didn’t have the moment to process it. The corruption that hung in the air seemed to thicken and shift, forming blade-sharp arrows, tainted and green. He barely moved out of the way as they streaked by. A few sliced holes in his already damaged shirt, a testament to how close they managed to get to striking him.

With a growl that twisted his face in a snarl, he returned fire. But as the flames blasted over the creature, it stood there, taking the attack without flinching. It laughed, even at it stumbled back from the force, seeming wholly unfazed.

The shock after seeing what his fire could do held him still, and it was enough for a return blast from the skeleton to strike true. The bolt crashed against his chest, the pain hard and heavy and making him double over with a wheeze. He gasped for breath as if he needed it, clutching at his bruised chest and stomach.

The creature seemed amused and its tone held danger, a promise of a cruel fate. “You have no idea who you fight, boy…. In life, centuries and centuries ago, I was once known as Professor Hean Feramin. A genius of studies of names and their power and origins, as well as medical studies… But now, in death, I am known as ‘The Splatter Man’… Do you have any idea the number of people I have killed? The souls I have claimed and the power I wield…? The hordes of monsters that followed me, and respected me, their king?!”

It laughed again, something deeper, and with a flare of green smoke, a quill formed that he took between thumb and forefinger. It twirled with a flourish as it brought a skeletal hand up as if to write on a chalkboard, stroking the tip of the quill against the empty air.

Where it scratched, letters formed, Large and flamboyant in a way letters often were when they began a chapter of a book, like fanciful olden English. Each letter that adorned the air became red, droplets of it falling off and towards the ground.

His head began to spin, and he stumbled.

He didn’t realize when he hit his knees, but he was on them now, the energy to return to one knee felt like it took all he had. His stomach lurched and a sense of exhaustion burned at his eyes.

The Splatter Man held the quill as if poised for the next letter, but instead he twisted the quill against his palm and crushed it to nothing, blood dripping from his hand where it had been before fading.

Hands laced behind his back, the Splatter Man approached. He could see even more names along the pallid skin, burned in or cut in jagged lines. The skin on his face was gone, and he could see fire-red embers aglow in the sockets, sizing him up. He felt something touch his feet. Something scaly and thick, and the sound of hissing told him what it was.

“Are you starting to understand? I can use your name against you, I can learn any name by staring… And everyone’s’ name holds their soul, their strength… And can be manipulated… Hold still now, and welcome the warm embrace of death. You will free me from this prison.”

He was down on his knee, fighting for that will to stand again, hissing through his teeth at The Splatter Man. He could feel blood soaking the tatters of his shirt, spilling red in thick rivers from what once had been the scars of his death. They were open now, weeping blood until he was slick with it. Weakness had sunk into his bones. His thoughts slipped to his name, but they quickly snapped back as a boney hand found the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric tight. He was sure of one thing.

The Splatter Man was preparing for the kill.

The thought ended nearly the moment the hand lifted, hoisting him easily into the air. He gagged, choked on blood and agony, and looked down at The Splatter Man, panic seeping in and turning everything icy. He was aloft, feet not touching the ground.

Fear crept along his spine. A fear he’d only felt once before.

It made him sick.

He could hear the way a smugness threaded the chuckle of the Splatter Man. He watched, limp in his hold as his free hand twisted, and a dagger formed, hilt curled perfectly to his hand. The gemstones along the hilt glittered with the green light, and the runes also etched almost seemed to glow in their reflections.

He realized what the intention was, when the dagger raised back with the hand.

It came forward at an unnatural speed, piercing his chest over his heart so hard he felt sure he was about to cave inwards. He screamed, screamed as he felt like he was being torn asunder, screaming louder than he thought himself capable. Blood seeped around the blade and it ripped another cry from hi as the dagger twisted, cutting deeper, opening the wound ever further. His chest was on fire and his voice gave out as his scream reached a climax, even his own ears ringing with the sound. The tendrils of corruption magic began to ebb towards the new wound, and he felt slithering along his clothing, before seeing the snakes he’d only heard and felt. They also pressed against the bleeding wound in his chest, and a sound escaped as it seared, the curls of his shirt at the edge of the blade blackening from the heat.

“Ah, you have some fight in you. Good, I will need that… You will free me from this purgatory. This prison. And I shall reclaim my throne… The death left in my wake will be unlike anything this world has ever seen, and you will help me, boy. Your essence will be mine.”

The torture burning him turned to lava, melting through the wound and his veins and then melting down to the organs and viscera. The sounds he thought he would make were gone now, rendered to silent convulsions. He could hear something, and he swore it was his soul, creaking and shuddering as agony struck blows that threatened to crack it in pieces.

But he grit his teeth, jaw squaring, and a snarl crept along his face. He couldn’t end here. Not when…. Someone needed him. Someone….Vivi.

Vivi.

VIVI.

VIVI! HE HAD TO PROTECT HER!

HE HAD TO PROTECT ALL OF HIS FRIENDS!!

A second wind surged through him, his heart beating fast and wild as his eyes widened. Gold light reflected off the bone in front of him from them. The skeleton paused.

“NO! I SAID. THAT. I. REFUSE!!”

His fingers stiffened on one hand that he reared back with, and then he jammed it forward, letting them force their way through the bones of the Splatter Man. His fingers searched blind, until he felt something. It felt rotted, soft and dry like the withered husk of a jack-o-lantern left out far past Halloween, and his fingers squeezed it to his palm.

The Splatter Man flinched as he did, yelling himself, and then howling as his flames returned, glowing violet inside the skeleton’s chest and hungrily eating at the thing left in his hand.

The Splatter Man summoned things, things that snapped at his body and slashed at his skin. Magic that pounded against him with bruising, bone breaking force. But he didn’t let go. He didn’t falter. His eyes stayed focused on his task, and his hands stayed tight around that heart as the flames began to grow and eat. He held on, determined with every fiber of his being, fighting tooth and nail for every inch over what felt like eternity locked together.

But inch by inch he gained traction, pushed further. The Splatter man’s eyes widened, a grimace taking it and a trickle of fear seemed to stitch itself to the edges of his expression. He could hear it in his voice, the slightest way it quavered even with his anger.

“What the hell are you doing?! You will destroy us BOTH YOU FOOL! What is keeping you from giving up the ghost?!”

He ignored him, hissing in his fury like a skillet of oil. His fire crackled and popped within the other, and he grabbed the Splatter Man’s wrist with the hand not in his chest, holding tight. His voice was a battle cry.

“Because I have REASONS TO COME BACK! I will use YOU!”

His hand on that rest continued to move, shooting forwards at lightning speed. He dug his fingers into the bone of the skull in front of him, grip crushing and bones creaking at the sutures. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he held on, and pulled at the energy of the Splatter Man.

The Splatter Man seemed to realize what was trying to do nearly the moment he started, and he tried to pull back, retreat with fervor. The blade in Lewis’s chest came out, spraying them both with red so red it was black and bright red from the arteries and purple that glowed. It all saturated their clothing until they dripped with his blood. But he didn’t falter. Didn’t once blink.

Well. Lewis didn’t falter. He probably would have.

The Splatter Man screeched.

“Release me!”

“Never.”

The fire in the Splatter Man’s was glowing brighter, white hot as it lashing out in heated waves like solar flares. The skeleton screeched, something high pitched and bone grinding, and he just leaned closer feeling vitality running through him, strengthening him.

He screamed one last time, and then his skull gave way beneath Lewis’s other hand, crumpling inwards like dried paper beneath a vise grip.

Purple and green light flashed, and Lewis fell the short drop to his feet, and then his knees. He panted for breath, clutching his chest, but watched with a sense of satisfaction as the skeleton crumbled, falling to pieces on the earth in front of him, a hallowed husk.

But with that power came a price, and he could see it seeping into the tips of his fiery hair, that curved just over his eyes. What had been pale shades of embery pink was now shifted, flickering green. Thoughts were flicking through his head over what the Splatter Man had meant and triumph at defeating him, even if he was exhausted by the effort. He could feel the power now, pulsing through himself.

Clambering to his feet, he rubbed at his face, before looking up, and seeing the same emblem that had adorned the skull of The Splatter Man, hovering in the air. It still glowed as it seemed to hum, before it arced forward, making him jump. It slammed against his forehead and he screamed as it burned, melting, burning through his flesh and then further into the bone of his skull and just a little further still until the imprint was etched into him, unmistakable for what it was. It continued to burn and burn and tear at him and—

Arthur woke up screaming, hand going to his forehead and chest where blood had started streaming down the side of his face and torso, down along his side where he was still pressed into the grass. His fingers turned slick as he held them against his forehead and shirt and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking so hard he convulsed where he lay.

He couldn’t die. But at this point he almost wished he could.

#tw injury #tw blood #drabble #the splatter man scene #arthur speaks #ic #M!A: Memory Pain #aaaa this fought me which is sad because i had the original to reference a lot jdjdjdj #but well i did ittttaaaa #splatterlewis mention #long post #and now at least a short nap jdjdj maybe a full rest #we shall see

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danddymaro · 4 years

Text

A Dance Just For Two | PT.2

Previous : Just You

Word count : 2761

Pt. 2: Marshmallows

It was late by the time they had arrived home, actually a smidge past midnight.

So, of course, neither of the two would have expected to run into anyone.

As far as (f/n) was aware of, Natasha was away on assignment.

It was one she didn’t bother to disclose too much information on, which wasn't too much out of the ordinary because Nat never really revealed too much about where she was going, or what she’d do when she left.

It was always confidential, and everyone knew to not ask.

The redhead had left two days prior on a starless night, dressed in her form-fitting black uniform, leaving with nothing more than what was on her.

And though she was strict about what she’d reveal about her missions, she did, however, offer a small smile, along with her goodbye as she usually did.

Clint Barton had long left, announcing his retirement with a tired and half-hearted smile following up the battle in Sokovia. Prioritizing his family was beyond anything else, and seeing the growing team, he decided it was a good moment to part ways.

And hell, (f/n) couldn't blame him, because if she had a family herself, she’d pick them over everything else in the world.

Bruce Banner was still MIA, his whereabouts being a mystery to everyone, and worry ensued for him.

He was a kind man with a heavy curse, one he had no control of, and the (h/c) haired young woman could only hope he found his way back soon, returning back home safe and sound. But for the moment, it seemed that he didn’t want to be found and it was clear as day.

It was also plainly obvious that his departure had its effect on a certain member,

‘That’s probably why she keeps herself so busy now...’ (f/n) thought to herself with a touch of sadness.

Thor had also decided to part ways, his face filled with conflict as he bid his farewell, seeming to have too much on his mind to express.

Up to date, he hadn’t sent word back, and she wished there was a way to reach him, just to know if he was alright out there. (f/n) couldn’t even begin to imagine what things lay beyond the earth, what other threats the thunder god took care of alone.

She could only hope that whatever dangers he encountered, they were no match for his might.

Wanda Maximoff had become an official member of the Avengers not long after the battle in Sokovia.

She grieved over the loss of her only kin, her hands empty as she realized she had nothing more left because everything she cared for had been there at her side until his final breath, bloodied on the battlefield.

However, Clint Barton assured her she had a place, that she could pull through because her young life was filled with promise.

Every day since then, the young woman worked tirelessly to gain more control of her strange powers, learning ways to expand the manipulation of them she had access to.

Vision, who had also become a member after the events aided her, the two becoming a close pair soon after, an obvious attachment grown between them during the duration of time.

They went together like youth and inexperience, and in a sense, they represented the two sides perfectly.

The artificial being, though not requiring rest, would often partake in the falls of slumber, most often times around 10, finding it to be a reasonable hour, whereas Wanda was a toss between ten or three, with no real indicator to which she would lean to.

Either way, she stayed in her quarters, unbothered by the world outside.

Tony, of course, was someone else who stayed up late quite often, stuck in his laboratory doing things (f/n) would never come to understand because to put it plainly, she wasn't a whiz kid like he was. He stayed locked in the wide space, a dark roast of hot beverage chugged down excessively with frequency.

Heck, the man lived on coffee.

But she knew well enough it wasn't just the drink that had him up, it was much more that would haunt him, leaving him restless at night.

What was much more to leave him awake: Pepper’s absence.

What solace he’d find at her side at night went missing as she left.

“ A small business trip,” she said, to which everyone believed.

But then she didn’t return to the home, nor was she frequently shown at Stark's side like before.

She was still active as CEO of his company, something he’d never take from her, because all in all, she earned it. She was his successor despite any strain in their relationship, and (f/n) found it fitting.

(f/n) was close to Tony Stark, having grown a mutual fondness at first that grew into genuine feelings of love. And while she was certain they could speak about anything, Tony was someone that didn’t like bothering people with his own problems too.

Similar to her, he felt like a burden while opening his heart.

‘It would be nice if we could all just let go,’ She mused, ‘Let go of all the feelings that anchor us.’ She added, knowing that all of them had something that weighed them down.

Side glancing at the blonde beside her, (f/n) smiled softly, ‘ Would I be happier if I let you go?’ She wondered.

‘Or can I actually find a way to reach you, reaching happiness that way?’

The gentle warmth of the spacious room then spread all around her, smoothing her like a fluffy blanket, bringing her instant comfort, to the point of making a small moan of delight leave her to show her contentment.

Needless to say, it felt good to be home, and when she said that there was no place like home, she truly meant it.

There truly was absolutely no place like the Avengers facility, and she would go so far as to admit that it was far better than the tower they had previously gathered within.

‘It’s perfect,’ she thought gleefully as a sweet, creamy scent wafted towards her, tickling her nose and making her mouth moist with desire for the teasing, traveling aroma, even if she wasn't quite sure what it was.

She couldn't pinpoint it, but it was somewhere there on the tip of her tongue, moreover, it made her feel giddy for some reason.

And hidden in the background, being outshined by the visiting smell was a smokey wild cherry that was more recognizable and well known throughout the place.

The crisp “snip-snap” cracking sounds of the blazing fire in the room caught her attention, causing her to pull up a soft smile at the view, knowing that the lovely display was out again, spreading out warmth as well as the sweet, welcoming scent of Cherrywood.

‘Tony really outdoes himself.’ she thought to herself, gazing at the flames with fascination, watching the Amber-colored heat dance in mellow movements.

Though Stark might find improvement in the place, always running through the rest of the crew with new ideas, she thought the building in its entirety was just fine, perfect even.

She wasn't sure about everyone else, but that’s how she felt at least.

She felt that nothing needed to change as It felt like a true home, packed with people she loved.

Isn’t that what made home, well, home?

Love..?

As she swam in that thought, one particular man set himself off from the rest, just as he always did.

Her (e/c) colored eyes peeked over to the said man to find him engrossed within the sight of the soothing fire, caught in thought, just as she had been a moment ago.

With sincere admittance, she'd have given anything to know what he was thinking, and what was much more, know if there was a part of his pondering that was about her.

The smile gracing his face as he watched the flames dance made her feel warm fuzz all over as she continued to observe him, the slightly dimmed lighting doing nothing but accenting the lovely edges of his features.

As if he wasn’t astonishingly handsome already.

“ looks real doesn’t it?” she commented, her voice sweet-sounding and soft as she airily spoke, making him turn his attention to her, snapping out of his light daze with her simple question.

“I was just thinking that.” he said shaking his head. “ looks like someone lit a fire behind a glass window. And then the smell... it’s hard to believe it’s not real,” he added. “ Technology has gotten pretty crazy, I would have never imagined sitting down and warming up next to an imitation fireplace this realistic.” He admitted.

“I mean, yeah we had these, but not as convincing,” he explained.

“It's scary isn't it old man...” she said wiggling her fingers in front of him. “Technology is so scary,” she said adding tremor to her voice, continuing to giggle with glee as he stared at her flatly.

Raising an eyebrow at her with a teasing smirk growing, he waited for her to calm down more before speaking,

“ Oh...aren't you the one paranoid about that little movie?” he asked her, “ what was it...” he muttered to himself, humming, his right hand taking a light hold of his chin. “ Ah, Wall-e right? Robots are gonna take over the world and control it, right?” he asked her and she stopped laughing, piping down.

“ That was a kid's movie and you were paranoid about something like that, ” he said poking her cheek. “ So, I guess, technology is scary, ohhhh…” he said mimicking her earlier actions, taunting her with the same childish actions as she stared at him with a halfhearted glare.

“That wasn’t exactly it,” she told him.

Sure that little film gave her anxiety, but not for that very reason,

“ Besides, if we're talking about that... I wasn't so far off…” she grumbled, referring to the incident with the ‘peacekeeper’ Ultron.

The entire ordeal had been a complete nightmare for her.

While, of course, Large, menacing, reptilian-like aliens would be something to fear, nothing really took the top off as much as psycho killer robots, but that was just her opinion.

She began to nibble on her left thumb’s nail as she recalled the event, all with a cold shiver.

“- Quit sucking your thumb,” Steve chided, chuckling as she instantly brought the entire hand down, her hand fisted to her side as she glared at him.

“I wasn’t sucking on it!” she said with a short hiss as an exaggeration to the ‘s’ sound.

Ready to challenge her, Steve opened his mouth to speak, stopped by another masculine voice,

“ Well, well, well, having fun alone you two?” Bucky said teasingly, finally catching the other two’s attention.

“Don't you two know how late it is?” he chided tisking, adding on a small chuckle.

His attention was trained over the counter as his back faced both (f/n) and Steve, not letting them see his true, troubled face.

“-Jealous?” Steve said raising a brow, quirking up a partial smile, mindlessly teasing his friend.

“Maybe…” Bucky huffed, “ I wasn't invited out after all.” Bucky replied bitterly.

“You know, my two friends decided to hang out without me.” he sighed, “ How could I not be?”

“ We were just out for a stroll,” (f/n) said rolling her eyes, “You're such a drama queen,” she added playfully.

In response, he hummed and turned around with two mugs of a hot beverage, pursing his lips as he looked off to the side, “I always have a comeback at hand,” he warned her, “ But being the grown-up here, I’ll keep them to myself,” he said while walking towards the two.

He then handed each of them their own cups, going back to retrieve his own.

Curious, she gazed down to see her kitty mug filled with hot cocoa, brimmed with small marshmallows.

With eagerness, she smelled the sweet aroma up close,

“ Oh, Hot cocoa ! “ she chirped joyously, giving the man a closed eye smile, absolutely joy-filled.

‘That’s what that smell was,’ She mused, 'It was right there,' She added, having been bothered by the fact that she couldn't name it off the bat, and by then feeling silly for not recognizing it.

Bucky’s smile broadened as he nodded while seeing her obvious excitement,

“Yeah, I thought you guys would want some,” he told them. “ It's starting to get real chilly out there.” He pouted, not liking the cold.

He wasn't really a fan.

“Ohh, you even put the tiny marshmallows on it, “(f/n) muttered, “Whoa, A whole bunch of them,” she added with a grin, all while looking within the cup.

“Just how you like it, I remembered,” Bucky replied, watching her face bloom with happiness.

“Love you Buck, You’re the best,” she said looking up towards him in gratitude before she started to blow on her drink.

“ I only got two,” Steve said staring down at his hot chocolate, plainly glaring at it with a disappointed pout, because he couldn't help but feel robbed.

“There wasn't much to work with,” Bucky said shrugging, the words accompanied by a nervous laugh.

“That’s all we had, I swear,” He added.

“Yeah, I bet,” Steve argued back flatly, “After you practically chucked the entire bag into (f/n)’s cup, you didn't have any left, right?” Steve replied with accusation.

(f/n)’s face heated up, taking a look at both cups with embarrassment.

“ I'm sorry Steve !” she said immediately. “ We can switch if you want,” she said frantically,

“Or I can just-”

Both men stared at her with amusement, Bucky being the first to laugh, shaking his head as he spoke,

“That’s cute,” he muttered.

“ Its alright doll, no need,” Steve said shaking his head. “I'm just teasing!” he exclaimed, calming her down. “Seriously,” he added.

“ I wouldn't get so worked up over some marshmallows,” he assured her.

“And Besides, I know Bucky here made that especially for you,” he said smiling knowingly with a grin, denying taking any contents from the cup in her hands as he lifted up his free hand in a stopping motion.

“He likes to play favorites between the two of us. I’ve gotten used to it anyway,” he added.

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” (f/n) said sheepishly, not believing him.

“No, I do,” Barnes said with certainty, his upfront admittance making her keep her eyes down to her drink,

‘Oh Bucky,’ She thought with a smile, shaking her head at his response, not sure if he meant it, or said it just to be a tease.

After taking a sip, she looked back towards Bucky, her eyes full of gratitude and amusement,

“At least you made some for yourself, “ she said with relief to which he shook his head,

“Nah,” he replied, making her stop drinking.

“ You didn’t make some for yourself?" She asked him, and shaking his head again, he answered her, “Nah, but it's fine.” He said with a dismissive wave.

“But wait what’s that in your hand,” she asked, pointing her finger towards his cup.

“Water,” he replied, “ I only realized afterward that I only made enough for two, but again, it’s fine,” He assured her, putting it down on the closest surface to him.

“Oh Bucky,” she said sighing, walking closer to him and leaving Steve's side altogether.

She took one of his hands, the warm flesh one, raising it up to touch the steamy mug in her hand. She pressed it there beneath hers as she gave him a small smile. “ Here, “ she told him, her hold loosening to let him take hold of the drink.

“But It’s for you,” he reminded her, being quick to return it, doing the same as she had by holding her hand to the mug,

“Really,” he said sweetly, begging her with his eyes.

" Half and half ?" She suggested, not willing to let it go.

"That's the closest I'm getting to winning, huh?" He asked her with defeat, and nodding (f/n) agreed, "Pretty much," she said, having gone unbeaten up to date, getting the last say.

'Only because it's you.

Only because you're so sweet.

Only because I love you so damn much,' The dark-haired man thought with a soft smile.

Bucky caved, the three people enjoying the warm drink as they talked, letting the night take its course.

Next : Little Smooch

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adoreyou303 · 4 years

Text

Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

CW: Pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

Chapter Six

Sharp, short knocks echo through the dark hotel room. She groans out of frustration, rolling over and pulling a pillow over her head. After a fitful night of sleep, the last thing she needs, nay wants, is someone pulling her back to reality. She would rather stay in her cocoon of blankets and pillows where her aching body is supported by a mountain of fluff and fuzz.

Once again, the knocks ring through the room, signaling her again of someone’s presence at her door. If it’s important, they will let themselves in… she thinks. A familiar beep sounds before the click of the door lets in a sudden rush of light from the hallway.

“Lucky I have a key to your room,” Harry chuckles, quietly closing the door.

“Whatever would I do without you,” she mutters sarcastically.

“How’re you feeling, love?” he murmurs, sitting at the foot of the bed. He places his hand on her foot and squeezes gently. She throws the pillow off of her head and looks at him through squinted eyes. Dark circles outline the skin below her eyes. Her eyes are stormy blue, darker than he’s ever seen. The tip of her nose is pink, standing out from the pale translucency of her face. She’s cuter than a button, even when she feels like she’s been hit by a bus.

“I felt so sick, I barely slept,” she admits, closing her eyes. She feels the weight at the end of the bed lift and for a moment, she feels white hot whips of panic roar through her chest. Did she scare him away? Is this what finally makes him leave?

Before she can think of any more worst case scenarios, the bed dips again, but this time, it’s much closer to her body.

“Oh, Mel. Have you thought about saying something? Your team could help you when you don’t feel well. I don’t want a repeat of last night. I barely convinced them you were just tired,” he sighs.

“What if they make me stop doing all of this? Or make me go home? I can’t do this alone,” she whispers, slowly reaching out towards Harry. His eyes search her face worriedly until their eyes meet. The eyes are the beholder of true feelings. They say everything without uttering a word. Harry’s never felt more connected to a single soul. There is no tension or awkward feelings. There’s a comfortable silence as they both drink in each other’s presence.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, holding his hand out, allowing her to weave her fingers through his.

“Can I-”

“Will-”

Both stop midsetence, cheeks flushed at the mutual interruption. “You go, love.”

“No, you started first,” she insists.

“I was just going to ask if I could hold you,” he asks sheepishly, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. No one has ever held this much power over him. Usually he is the one making others flushed. He’s not used to someone making him feel this way. Instinctively, his other hand reaches up to scratch at his neck. Nervous tick.

Instead of answering, she nuzzles her head closer, immediately inhaling his intoxicating scent. She releases their intertwined hands and wraps her arm around his torso. “Do believe you were going to say something,” he reminds her.

“No need. It seems you happen to have read my mind,” she hums, tucking her face into the safety of his chest. He takes the moment to breathe her in. The smell of her shampoo is emintating off her hair in gentle waves. A faint trace of her favorite chapstick still lingers on her lips. Deep, glittering purple swatches of nail lacquer expertly decorate her nails, executenating her devine hands. And, no matter what time of day, she always smelled of something sweet. Call it what you will-- a sweet tooth, a lack of self control, but Melanie loves her chocolate and will go to the lengths of the end of the Earth to make sure she gets it. Something sweet for someone sweet.

“How would I tell people?” she questions, pulling her head from it’s safe burrow in Harry’s chest.

“Well, that’s up to you. It doesn’t have to be all fancy like you see in the movies or anything. I reckon you could call a meeting or summat?” he suggests.

“That’s… too formal and rigid,” she rejects. He hums in response, lost in thought.

“There is that label dinner next week. ’re all expected to be there. Would you consider doing it then? I know ’s in public and all, but-”

“H, that’s perfect,” she beams, reaching up and grabbing his face between her two hands. There is a deep ache in his chest, a pull at his heart. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the nickname and the sudden contact of the girl of his dreams or if he’s elated to see his best friend happy after seeing her struggle for so long.

“Really?” he smiles. “What makes you say that?”

“We’re supposed to be discussing our upcoming projects. It can be treated like… I don’t know, a new beginning or such. You keep going on about support and what not, so why not start in a positive place? I don’t want it to be in a record label boardroom with contracts and attorneys fussing over details. It would be more like… friends finding out news. Right?” she ponders, her voice wavering slightly.

“You’re brilliant, love. I was thinking if it didn’t go well you could just fill up on pasta and breadsticks, but you really blew me out of the water on this one, didn’t yeh?” he chuckles, pressing a hand to the back of her head.

This movement sends a thousand tingles down her spine. His thumb gently caresses the nape of her neck, slowly and softly swiping back and forth every so often. Almost as if to remind her he’s still there, he still has her.

The next week passes way too slow for Melanie’s liking. She tries to distract herself with recording and writing, but anxiety about sharing the news swells in her chest. That isn’t the only thing swelling, either Her ankles have grown twice in size and she can no longer fit into her favorite pair of jeans. She isn’t huge, but she’s growing. Fortunately, the change hasn’t been noticeable by too many. The focus has mainly been on Harry promoting his new single. He’s been away doing various promotions, so the team has paid Melanie less and less attention. Once he returns, though, it’ll be back to the spotlight with their currently underwraps collab album.

She has no doubt the second Harry lays his eyes on her, he will notice the changes in her body. Unsure of how his attention on a body that is quickly becoming not her own will make her feel, she soaks in all the non-attention as much as she can.

As she prepares for the company dinner, her mind races with various scenarios of how the evening could possibly play out. She could get fired… she could be told off… her friends could leave her… they could laugh at her… anything could happen. She slips a light blue dress over her hand, letting it slide down over the rest of her body. She has to shimmy, pulling it down with more umph than usual. Her butt has also joined the swelling party.

A soft knock at the door pulls her from her harsh gaze in the mirror.

“Who is it?” she asks curtly. The driver isn’t supposed to be at hers for another 15 minutes.

“‘S me, love. Thought you might fancy a cuddle before dinner?” She could practically hear his smirk through the door.

“It’s open, Harry,” she calls, walking back into the bathroom to grab her earrings. Pushing through the door, he is hit with the scent of home. Fresh cookies. Vanilla. Faint Citrus. Her. He feels as though a permanent smile has been etched on his face as he places his bags on the floor near the door.

“Where are you, love?”

“Bathroom, be out in a sec,” she responds. After placing her jewelry in the right places, she takes one last look in the mirror. She sighs a breath of relief, fixing her hair yet again. Satisfied.

She returns to her bedroom to find a familiar face sitting on the edge of her bed. The mere sight of him makes her feel as though there is no air left in her lungs. His ring-clad fingers are sat upon loose fitting light teal trousers. One hand runs through his curly locks, bringing her eyes up to his torso, snuggly tucked in a matching dress shirt with the top buttons undone. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, allowing for his tattoos to dance freely on the toned muscles of his forearms. If she wasn’t staring before, she was now.

“You look gorgeous,” he smiles, standing up for a hug.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” she covers, avoiding his piercing stare. Allowing herself to fall into his embrace, she remembers back to the times he’s complimented her appearance. She’s never doubted his sincerity, but why did it feel so different now?

“I, um, need help with my dress. Would you mind?” she asks, pointing toward the back. He gives her a quick kiss on the check before reaching up to her shoulders to turn her around. His gaze falls to admire her dress when suddenly he flinches and pulls away as if she was the most repugnant thing he’s ever seen.

“What??” she exclaims, looking over herself to see if she had some sort of anomaly or something to cause alarm.

“Melanie, love, you’re showing,” he whispers, his eyes trained on her belly. Her gaze follows down to her stomach and back up to his face, whether their eyes meet.

“I-I am,” she says, almost as though she’s trying to convince herself. Harry’s hands reach up to cradle her face.

“This is incredible. Can I?” he asks, breathless. Unsure of what he’s doing, but not wanting him to stop, she nods furiously. His hands drop to her sides, thumbs rubbing gently over the taut skin of her belly. “When did this happen?”

“I’m not sure, maybe a few days ago?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not exactly something to be… excited about,” she sighs, averting her gaze.

“C’mere.”

He brings her around to her floor-length mirror and pulls her in front of him. Instead of zipping her up, he pushes her straps down.

“Harry, I-”

“I promise ‘m not going to hurt you. Let me show you something.”

The dress slowly comes off her figure, leaving her only in her bra and panties. His large hands rest on the outer sides of her thighs. His eyes meet hers in the mirror. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes brimming with tears.

“Do you know what I see?” he questions in hushed tones. She shakes her head, instinctively retreating into his chest. “I see a beautiful, glowing woman who is growing a child. Her child. She’s the strongest person I know. Smartest, too, I reckon. She could beat my ass any day,” he snickers. This earns a small laugh from the girl in his arms. His heart gleams with pride and love as he sees her stand a little taller. He raises a hand from her thigh, trailing his fingers along her sun kissed skin, and places it on her belly. Her little swollen belly. Gently, his other hand follows until both his hands are embracing her, holding both Melanie and her baby. After a few minutes, her hands wiggle free from his embrace. She gently rests them on his large ones atop her little baby belly. She relaxes back into his chest, letting her fears melt away.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, squeezing his hands. He nudges his nose into her cheek with a soft smile.

“Now, let’s get you dressed, yeah? Can’t take you to dinner in your knickers.”

Melanie can’t lie, dinner with friends is exactly what she needed. Although it is technically a company dinner, she loves everyone she works with. Laughter and fun stories pass the time so quickly, she almost forgets she has to break life changing news. So much so, it isn’t until Jeff mentions the collab album that she breaks into a nervous sweat. Almost as if on cue, Harry places a calming hand on her knee, talking cooly about plans he had thought up on his recent promo trip.

“Actually, if I might chime in,” Mitch interrupts, eyes darting between dinner guests. Mitch has been with Harry since he went solo, so his word is just as important as Harry’s. Everyone’s attention turns towards the guitarist as he pushes his chair to stand. “I think this collab album is a great idea. It could really showcase both Mel and Harry’s strengths and teach them a lot about each other as artists.”

He pauses as he walks around the table, nervously pulling at his black velvet blazer. “However, I don’t think the timing of this is… ideal.”

Melanie gulps and she swears the whole table could hear it. Her frantic eyes meet Harry’s, who looks just plain confused. There is no way he knows… could he?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of this project. Here’s my issue.” Here it comes… I’m ruined. “When I started working for this company, for Harry, I only had myself to think about. I could drop everything and go to studio and write for hours on end. Hell, Styles dragged me to Jamaica at a minute’s notice. Well, I can safely say that is no longer the case. I’m not on my own anymore and I don’t want to be ever again,” he says softly, training his eyes on Sarah. Her mouth drops, clearly not expecting his speech. “Sarah, you took my breath away the moment I saw you. Somehow you manage to bring me out of my shell and make me unafraid. I never want to imagine what it would be like without you practicing drums at the worst hours or praising my cooking even though, darling, we both know it belongs in the bin,” he admits, a water chuckle escaping his lips. Tears are fully dripping down Sarah’s cheeks as the realization sinks in. “I loved you when you rejected my first attempt to ask you out and I love you now. I will love you always. Please, darling, will you marry me?” he asks, bending on one knee, gently grasping her hand in his.

The whole table is dabbing tears away from their eyes as they take in the scene in front of them. Melanie sheds a few tears herself, but promptly feels a kick to the gut, like the wind has been taken out of her sail.

“Yes, yes, I will,” Sarah finally answers, fully crying. Mitch slips the ring on her finger before engulfing her in a full embrace. There is a full uproar of cheers and congratulations from the party, but Melanie just feels sick. She joins her friends in happily (and tearily) congratulating Mitch and Sarah before quietly excusing herself from dinner. This wasn’t her moment. Not yet.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writings #harry styles fandom #harry styles fluff #hs fandom #hs fic #hs writing #sweet creature #chapter 6 #harry styles pregnancy

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evergreen-dryad · 4 years

Text

a love story does not begin here (2753 words)

Written for the TodoBakuDeku Winter Exchange for @normalcryptid

Summary: What’s a hero to do when a villain claims their soulmate? Soulmarks are shitty indicators if they can get this messed up, Bakugou is convinced.

aka, the AU where Bakugou’s a pro hero, Midoriya’s a journalist, and Todoroki is the villain. And they were all soulmates, but they haven’t worked that one out just yet.

Rating: T

Warnings: bakugou swearing like the sailor he wishes he was

This day could not have gotten any worse, Katsuki fumed.

First, there’s this sudden appearance of a superpowered villain out of freaking nowhere, honestly what the fuck, in the lunch hour to boot?

Breakfast was hours ago and Bakugou Katsuki did not appreciate being made to miss meals anytime. He liked things on schedule for a reason.

Second, the villain was gushing out volumes of ice like it was nothing. Everywhere’s fucking winter now, and the cold was not good for business. The cold wasn’t great for him, period. Cold meant he had to work harder to get up a sweat and explode this villain’s face off. Which was just pissing him off.

Great, he’s being blocked off by this villain’s walls while the rest make a getaway with whatever it is they robbed the CBD for.

Explosions burst over his skin, angry and raring to go. Where the fuck was Kirishima when he needed him?! The man would have done well as a battering ram in this situation!

Honest to god, even the hardhead might have had trouble with this, he thought as he vaunted to a higher point. The ice walls this villain threw up vary in height and thickness, and could span entire streets. All in all, villain’s a walking ice tsunami.

Katsuki did not like him.

Third—

the nerd just showed up.

”NO!” he roared, his fury spiking up even more. God, the fucking nerd was going to be the death of him. He alone accounted for Katsuki’s frequent spikes in blood pressure. “STAY BACK, OR I SWEAR-!”

“But Kacchan!” The shitty nerd obstinately clambered onto the iced-over field, voice tiny down below. “I’ve got to document this!”

Oh for the love of god, Katsuki swore under his breath. Now the fucking villain’s noticed him too.

A damnable smirk actually crossed over the so-far unemotional face. “Oh? And you are?”

He actually freaking alighted in front of Deku. What the shit. He can’t exactly fire off a long-distance blast now, but long-distance had never worked out in his favour in the first place. This villain made it far too hard to get close to him, but he could close in now. He threw himself off the ice, explosions controlling his fall.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying and he couldn’t really make out Deku’s expression other than surprise.

By the time he got there the villain had swooped up Deku into his arms and jumped out of his way. “Oi!” He yelled, taken aback. “Wha-”

“Relax, I’m just sending him on his way.” The villain didn’t even look at him as he carried a shocked Deku away.

Katsuki had no choice but to follow, hobbling awkwardly, wincing with the weight he now had to put on numbed feet. Fucker nearly shot his feet right off when he’d been airborne trying to get an AP Shot on him from midair.

He deposited a spluttering Deku gently when they had walked a few blocks away. “Don’t come back now.” The villain turned on his heel, facing Katsuki. “Where were we?”

Katsuki spluttered, before he lunged at the villain. “You-! We’re ending this right now!” An explosion flared from his outreached palms, before and behind him.

It didn’t reach.

The villain got away, and it was the worst Katsuki had ever felt about himself for a long time. He let a villain get away. He lost the fight.

And that’s not even saying how much collateral damage was done when the villain sent out sheets of ice all over the place, basically turning one entire avenue into a tsunami frozen in action.

It had taken hours to clean. Endeavour had been on his ass about it, been even more nasty than usual. Something about the sight of all that ice must have set him off, because he glared at the crime scene like it had personally done him dirty.

“Pity that villain hadn’t been nice enough to clean up his own mess, huh,” Deku said sympathisingly, in that tone Katsuki wanted to tell him to stuff it back in his own throat.

“Nice? Nice my ass, that villain was nowhere near nice at all,” Katsuki grumbled under his breath. He had been left frozen to a wall, dangling upside-down.

“C’mon, don’t keep sulking after we’ve come out on such a nice day,” Deku pleaded. He had asked Katsuki to go out on the weekend, citing that he needed to unwind after the hectic mess that had been the week before. Ice had given him some level of frostbite. “It couldn’t be helped after all, the villain got back-up from three other ice and fire quirk users.” He gave that stupid smile of encouragement that Katsuki sure as hell didn’t need but he liked anyway.

“Police give you that info to write up?” He muttered into his drink. Like that was enough to mollify him. He, Bakugou Katsuki, pro hero, had still lost to villains. Again.

He shook away the flash memory of chains and leering faces.

Deku laughed sheepishly. “Mmm… you know me, went here, sourced a few others there, put together the whole incident from eye-witnesses-”

“One of them being you obviously.” Katsuki glared at his childhood friend, who had ended up becoming an investigative journalist, of all things. Still a job that sent him hurtling right into fights.

Deku sweated some more under his gaze, hands fluttering as he wound up some old excuse. “Kacchan… you know back then I promised-”

“But that doesn’t mean you go putting yourself in danger all the time,” he heaved a great sigh, slumping bonelessly against the table. His forehead bumped against the grainy wood as he kicked out at Deku’s ankle lightly. The babbling stopped. “Seriously, stop worrying me, shitty Deku.”

Shitty Deku running into danger headlong every single time, because when his quirk hadn’t shown up, and he’d finally accepted he couldn’t be a hero what with Katsuki’s constant beating into him and pushing him away, he’d just latched on to another idea instead. Less absurd but looking back he couldn’t have known how much this career would still cause him heart-attacks.

“Kacchan, the fact that one of us can be a hero already makes me super happy. So, I’m going to be right there every step of the way to document it, Kacchan! Your journey to be the greatest hero like All Might!”

Those words were still burned into his brain like it was just yesterday. A middle-school Deku yelling that at him, and he’d stopped breathing.

Back then he'd crowed. He didn't see the strained smile Deku was wearing to hide the tearing seams.

They'd learned that from All Might, hadn't they? Smile to hide if you're afraid or sad.

One of us. Only one of a pair of soulmates got to have a quirk and go on to pursue their dreams, how fair was that?

Back then, he hadn’t cared. Because Deku hadn’t manifested a quirk and wasn’t strong enough to stand by his side, of course he shouldn’t even think about being a hero.

Let alone be with him. This he didn’t outright say but had scoffed at the very idea of.

Deku had shown him back when they were little, right before the day his quirk manifested. It was a red and white mark exploding outward over his elbow, so of course it must have been him.

It could only have been him, they knew.

And he in turn never developed one. No colour or shape ever painted itself over his skin, and he never breathed a word to Deku about it. Not even a hint.

Deku had stopped asking after it long ago, especially when it became apparent that most soulmarks followed the quirk of the person they’re meant for.

What soulmark does a quirkless person inspire?

A hand on his shoulder. Deku was carefully breathing, considering what to say to fill in the blankness that had been between them for a very long time.

He knew he didn’t get to say such a thing when he’d pushed him away the entire time.

“I’m… happy you’re worried about me,” he sounded like he was suffocating, or that could be Katsuki’s head fuzzing over. “But it’s my life.”

The hand nudged at him. “Kacchan, look at me.” When Katsuki raised his head, he was smiling. “I’ll be okay. Plus,” a teasing lilt entered his tone, “if I follow you around all the time I’m bound to be safe, won’t I? You’re a good hero.” The hand firmed on his shoulder. Deku’s hand.

Katsuki huffed. Exhaled. Look at him, all in a mess because a villain had gotten the best of him. “Yeah.” He threw his eyes to a corner of the ceiling. “Yeah.” He breathed some more.

“Ah.” He heard Deku inhale. “He’s here!”

“Who’s here?” He shook himself out of his thoughts.

“It’s a new friend I made!” Deku sat up to wave frantically through the glass. “Is it okay if I ask him to join us?” He turned, a hopeful grin spreading across his freckled cheeks.

Katsuki can’t very well refuse him, can he. “Don’t expect me to talk to him,” he said gruffly. He came here to rest, not exert energy to play nice to some guy Deku picked off the streets.

“Aww, Kacchan,” Deku rebuked, too distracted to really sound harsh. He got the attention of the black-haired guy through the window, and beckoned him to come in the cafe with a welcoming smile.

The guy walked towards their booth, and quietly said, “Hello.”

Now normally Katsuki wouldn’t have noticed him beyond the preliminary details (black hair, pale, casual civilian) but the voice struck a chord of memory within him.

A recent one at that.

So he followed the spark and honed in on the person before them. Huh, the eyes didn’t match. One bright blue eye and one grey eye. They seemed familiar? Where had he seen them before? And the man was also staring back at him, and it seemed as if his eyes were also widening in recognition—

“Ah,” Deku interruped the stare-off with a laugh, the look on his face one of realisation. “Shouto-san, meet my friend Bakugou Katsuki, a pro hero!”

“Detonation.” The man’s lip curled into a slight smile. Right, civilians would most likely know who he was as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stretched out his hand, and Katsuki took it.

It was a firm hold. Skin cool to the touch, hands rougher than they would seem for the pretty boy kind. He would have expected this guy to have really soft hands. Wasn’t this kind the type to moisturise their hands after every meal?

He couldn’t take his eyes off him. Where had he seen him before?

Deku nervously laughed, and Katsuki realised he had held on far too long to the man’s hand. He dropped it, frowning. “The same,” he said dismissively.

The black-haired man sat down, while Deku’s eyes darted between them, alight with interest. His mouth pursed into a half-laugh. Yeah yeah Deku, don’t even think about it. He’s still not interested in socialising.

Deku got right into it. “Kacchan, Shouto-san has a really cool quirk! Show him!” He urged the man.

“Ah, it’s not much. I don’t have much control over it…”

But he did show Katsuki, which was to just flip his white palm over. A moment passed, and a small flame alighted on his index finger. “Useful for lighting birthday candles at least.” He huffed a short laugh.

Fire?

Hadn’t he

The villain had to have some sort of defense against the cold, and he’d seen him put a hand to his ice-covered arm, thawing it out.

He’d only ever used one hand to direct the ice.

Wait.

The fucker had white hair before, didn’t he? And that red cyborg eye had neatly hidden away his right eye and scar, before Katsuki had ripped it off.

Whatever scar there had been had been neatly concealed.

“Shouto-san, how has your week been? I haven’t seen you around in a while!”

“It was…” The man paused too long. His eye roved over the table, and glanced over at him. Was that an amused glint in his eye? “…eventful. We got into a few hold-ups for a bit on the job.”

“Eh, is that so? I heard the recent villain activity has been blocking the main roads…”

“I’m just glad I wasn’t outside on that day, I would have been extinguished.”

“Right? It was so cold the thermostat showed-”

Deku was laughing. Smiling so wide like he was having the time of his life. They were friends, he thought, aghast. They really were friends. Katsuki couldn’t jeopardise any of that. Couldn’t fuck up the day further with an arrest. Not to mention he was off-duty as well — without his gauntlets could he take the villain on?

He didn’t think so.

He slammed the table. “We need to talk.”

“Eh?” They both looked up, Deku looking particularly puzzled. The villain just looked expectant. Not that that poker face expression of his changed much.

“You,” he pointed at the villain, “and me. Outside, right now.”

“Eeeeh?” Deku’s face now looked very concerned. “Kacchan, wha-”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Deku.” He waved a hand behind him, getting up.

The villain said nothing, but he gave a reassuring nod towards Deku. “I’ll see what he wants.”

“Uh-huh…” They left him shifting uneasily in his seat.

When they got to the back, Katsuki slammed him against the wall. “You.”

“Me.” He returned tonelessly, both brows raised. He was surprisingly unresistant.

“What do you want with Deku?” He snarled, anger throbbing deep in his voice. “Just why the hell did you approach him?”

“Hmm…” The villain’s eyes stared through him. “He’s interesting. And the way his soulmark is so directly emblazoned on his arm.” Heart on his sleeve. He knew. His gaze locked back onto him. “I thought he might be mine.”

Katsuki felt the world stop. He took a breath. “That’s bullshit.”

“Oh?”

“He’s mine.” He said shortly. “That’s an explosion, it couldn’t be anything else-”

“How do you know?” The villain said softly, eyes narrowing. “Is your soulmark his?”

A hiss of air escaped him as he gritted his teeth. “None of your business,” he bit out. He snapped his head up, quirk flaring underneath his skin. “Why are you so convinced it’s yours anyway, shitstain?”

The villain studied him, placid face not giving anything away.

“You know who I am anyway,” he said cryptically, shrugging. “Fire and ice is my quirk. Red and white. The shape of the soulmark resembles the formations my quirk can take.”

Katsuki’s grip tightened. “Utter bullshit.”

“You’re the same as me, aren’t you?” The villain continued relentlessly. “We both,” he leaned in to peer into Katsuki’s eyes, as if searching for something, “don’t have a soulmark.”

“Shut up,” he snapped, lashing out. The villain caught his fist. His head was roaring.

“You know I’m right,” the villain concluded, satisfied with his probe. He pushed Katsuki’s arm off. “Not that many people in this world are quirkless now, so what are the chances there’s another one with a matching soulmark?”

“One in five, dipshit.” He heard himself say weakly. One out of all those one point five-four billion, he didn’t say. “You’ve got your chances scattered all over the globe.” He firmed his stance.

He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all the villain who stood before him, head tipped to one side, arms crossed. “Do we have a truce for now? In front of Midoriya at the very least?”

“I’m going to haul your ass to prison the next time I see you on the street.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can get.” A smirk gashed over paper-white skin.

Midoriya Izuku choked back a laugh, watching his two friends interact. Kacchan had seemed so convinced earlier he wasn’t going to like this person, but look at him now! He hadn’t seen Kacchan interact so fully with anyone in a while, and they were even exchanging banter now?

Barbs really, but it was Kacchan so insults had to be taken with him as part of the package.

Plus there had been that moment when they first met when they had stared into each others’ eyes for a really long time… it had nearly made him flush from how intense it was. What a way to have a moment!

That settled it. A smile creased his face as he leaned forward on his elbows. He was going to try to set them up — that is, gently push them towards each other, what with how combustible Kacchan was, setting up had to be handled delicately.

They may or may not have been soulmates, Izuku thought with a fond smile, but it didn’t necessarily mean they had to get together now, did they?

#tdbkdkWE20 #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #todobakudeku #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero au #villain todoroki #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #fanfic #my hero academia #my writing #ed fics #my brain cells are dead

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rainandhotchocolate · 4 years

Text

Christmas prank

A/N little late but day 12 (lel) This is pure absolute fluffy goodness, Sirius x reader, cause I’m a sucker.

Enjoy!

JAMES 7:48PM

He snuck up the stairs, checking behind him every few steps to make sure he wasn’t followed. He hadn’t pulled a proper prank in what felt like years but was probably a matter of months, at least since he was made head boy. Not that it stopped him nudging Sirius and Remus in the right direction.

James moved stealthily across the carpet, avoiding all the creaks and old wood, a skill he had learned when he was 10 and wanted to sneak downstairs to steal his parents record player. Downstairs he could still hear the hum of music and voices chatting in the living room where he had left them, but he stopped himself from trying to hear what they were saying whilst he was gone, he was on a mission.

Upon reaching the right door, he lifted it up before turning the knob, to avoid the creak, pushing it open slowly to reveal Sirius’ bedroom. His parents had given him the spare room whilst he was staying with them, and said he could do whatever he liked to it, as long as it wasn’t magically glued to the walls(James was sure they’d heard his conversation with Sirius about the large posters of muggle girls he had left on his wall at Grimmauld place).

James closed the door halfway, so that he was hidden, moving towards the large double bed that had maroon sheets and was covered in Sirius clothes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the huge poster that sat ontop of Sirius’ wardrobe of Queen, --- staring down at him, as if watching over Sirius’ things. Focus, James, focus.

He pulled back the covers softly, opening the container he had been holding and spilling it’s contents across the bedspread. James covered it quickly with the blanket and clothes before slipping out of the room and returning to the living room, trying to keep down the grin that was pulling at his mouth.

SIRIUS 11:48PM

Sirius watched as Y/N left the room, giving her a smile as she said goodnight and James led her up to her room.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush so much,” Lily snorted once their footsteps faded on the carpeted steps.

“So help me Lily, don’t make me regret telling you things,” Sirius growled, throwing a pillow at her which she neatly dodged, still grinning obnoxiously.

“Well if it makes you feel better she couldn’t keep her eyes off you.” Sirius stopped glaring at her then, suspicion creeping into his stomach.

“If you’re just telling me this to match-make-“

“I promise, no set-ups!” Lily threw her hands up, “Just telling you what I saw.”

“Hmmm.” Sirius replied nonchalantly, unsure exactly what to do with that information. Y/N and Sirius had been friends for years now, never as close as herself and Lily who were irritatingly inseparable and had been since first year, but it wasn’t until the year before that Sirius had realised he might like her a bit more than a friend. A lot more.

“Can you please make a move already, I feel like a third wheel around your tension.”

“I don’t know what James sees in you.”

“He loves my meddling ways,” Lily winked at him, leaning back into the couch and sipping a butterbeer, self-contentedly. Lily had invited Y/N to spend a night at James’, since Lily was staying there for Christmas this year and they otherwise wouldn’t see each other. She also claimed to have forgotten to tell’ Sirius and made him get the door when she arrived, leaving him a stuttering idiot as she smiled up at him, her hair covered in little snowflakes and wrapped up in a deep red coat.

James came bounding back downstairs, his face similar to when he returned to the bathroom earlier, weirdly smug.

“Everything ok?” Lily raised an eyebrow.

“Yep, all good, perfect.” James joined her on the couch, his expression unwavering. “Though I’d be keen to head to bed soon actually.”

“You just want to do naughty things whilst us plebs sleep,” Sirius winked at the two of them, leaning back on his hands.

“Well, basically, yes,” James shrugged, but was grinning widely and earned himself a shove from Lily.

“I hope you’re not broadcasting our extra curriculars.”

“Not year dear,” James laughed, moving out of Lily’s range and tucking his feet up on the couch.

When James and Lily had first gotten together, Sirius had a nagging, unwanted feeling that he would be jealous. It was mainly due to his pretty terrible track record of being unwarrantedly jealous in stupid situations, like when he was in the hospital wing and Remus had a full moon without him. But he found that having his two friends finally FINALLY getting together had a kind of calming affect over him, like watching them was watching his potential future.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Whilst Lily had been trying to poke James a soft smile had curled on her lip and Sirius saw the familiar twinkle in her eye that meant he should get out of dodge before they pin each other to different furniture items.

“Yes, lets.” Sirius stood up, nodding to Lily and James who hadn’t taken their eyes of each other long enough to even notice him slip out of the room.

He hadn’t quite realised how tired he was until he began climbing the stairs, feeling his legs slow and head begin to fuzz. He pushed the door open to his room and nearly did a double take, covering his mouth to not make any noise. Y/N was lying, asleep, on a mattress beside Sirius bed, where James was definitely meant to be sleeping instead of sharing a room with his girlfriend.

“Fucking, James I’m going to kill you,” Sirius hissed, turning on his heel in time to see the door close and a clicking noise.

“Sorry mate, you need an intervention,” James voices could be heard on the other side of the door, as Sirius tried desperately to pull it open without waking Y/N up.

“I just wanted to sleep!”

“Talk to her!”

“She’s asleep!” Sirius whispered through the crack in the door, wishing he could reach through and rip out James’ hair.

“Well talk to her in the morning, good night!”

“James, no, get back here now!” Sirius could hear his footsteps fading towards the other end of the corridor and his door close. Fuck fuck fuck. Ok this was fine, just go to sleep and in the morning Lily will open the door for you and you can kill them.

Sirius huffed but moved towards his bed, pulling off the clothes and slipping into his pajamas, hiding behind the bed in case for some reason Y/N suddenly sat up and saw him stark naked and standing over her. He pulled back the covers and covered his mouth one more time, swearing under his breath as he saw what had been left there.

“James you bastard,” He stared down at the sliming frogs spawn that was moving uncomfortably across the sheets. After a few minutes of frustratedly pulling off the sheets he found that it had also seeped through to his mattress. Sirius stood up straight, holding his ruined sheets and took in a sharp breath. James was going to die.

Y/N 4:23AM

Y/N rolled over in bed, trying to get comfortable after a loud banging on the window had woken her up. Keeping her eyes closed she pulled at the blanket which seemed to be stuck on something beside her bed. After a few minutes of pulling she groaned and opened her eyes, immediately regretting it as light was beginning to spill through the window and wake her up. She sat up, leaning over the side of the mattress to see what had snagged on the blanket.

“Sirius?” She whispered, seeing a large figure lying awkwardly beside her, half under the bed, a large mass of curly black hair splayed out behind him.

“Hmmm, what?” He replied sleepily, turning around slowly to face her, blinking in the light. Once he properly opened his eyes he jumped, hitting his shoulder on the bed and swore softly

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“I, uh, sorry, James covered my bed in…er… frogs spawn,” He whispered back, moving his head back towards the bed so they weren’t so close together.

“Aren’t you freezing?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“Come here,” Y/N moved back on the mattress so that there was space beside her and pulled the doona towards her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m quite sure I don’t want you freezing to death beside me,” Y/N laughed and indicated for him to move. He hesitated, looking at the space between them, before pushing forward and moving onto the mattress.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Sirius settled himself beside her, going to roll to his side before thinking better of it and remaining straight, his arms crossed against his stomach, elbows digging into Y/N’s side.

“Probably should have thought this through,” Y/N snorted, pushing his elbow down so his arm was straight and lying against her. She also tried to ignore the slow increase of her heart rate that seemed to jump every time she felt him against her.

“Yeah one person mattresses don’t tend to fit two people comfortably,” Sirius laughed as well, his body shaking slightly next to her.

“I guess it’s more of a one person on top of the other deal,” Y/N teased, but felt Sirius tense slightly beside her. “A joke, Black.”

“Yeah, I know, Y/L/N,” Sirius rolled his eyes, turning his head to face Y/N who kept her head trained to the ceiling. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Fuck.

“So James and Lily locked you in so that they could canoodle?”

“Got it in one.”

“They are a bit predictable.” Y/N shook her head, bending her legs slightly so they were more comfortable, her toes touching Sirius’ shins.

“Holy Merlin your toes are icicles!” Sirius barked out a laugh, jolting away from her, “Do you have any circulation down there?”

“Gonna be honest, I don’t think I do.”

“Well, let me know if you need me to chop any off,” Sirius teased.

“Oh, you will be the first I’ll tell. Before my parents, I will call you to dispose of my dead limbs.”

“Glad to hear it.” Sirius moved again, trying to get his full body under the covers seemingly without touching Y/N. Y/N snorted at him awkwardly shuffling beside her.

“Ok, what now, smartarse,” Sirius huffed, his head facing her again. Y/N felt her shoulders tense automatically.

“Just… ok look, it’s negative 3 degrees and this room is bloody cold,” Y/N tried desperately to keep her voice steady though she was feeling a little ill at the thoughts running through her head. “You can like, touch me you know.”

“Oooo, can I,” Sirius teased, a grin playing on his lips.

“Oh for fucks sake, you know what I mean you prat.” Y/N elbowed him and rolled over to her side, facing the wall. Sirius hesitated again, and Y/N had a momentary sense of satisfaction that underneath his banter she could still make him a little nervous. He rolled on his side as well, facing Y/N, pulling himself against her so they could fit together on the mattress.

Y/N pulled the covers up, tucking it in under her chin. Sirius had kept his arms tucked by his side, trying to avoid touching any inappropriate areas, but as Y/N had begun to fall asleep again, Sirius sighed lightly and lifted his arm up and around Y/N’s shoulder, the other across her waist. Y/N pushed down the urge to make any indication that she had noticed his movements, instead taking deep breaths into her lungs and pretending she had already fallen asleep.

Sirius tucked his head against her shoulders, his lips pressed against the hem of her t-shirt. Y/N felt a small shiver run through her every time he breathed out, warm air trickling across her neck.

Eventually, she felt herself relaxing into him, Sirius’ body warmth lulling her to sleep. As she was on the edge she thought she felt Sirius’ lips part.

“Merry Christmas.” It was so quiet Y/N thought she might have dreamt it. She dreamt she was curled underneath a large Christmas tree, a fireplace blazing beside her, Sirius’ arms wrapped around her waist as he leaned in and kissed her.

Taglist: @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana @avengersassemblee @maraudersandco @sly-vixen-up2nogood @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad @evyiione @minerva26love @aikeia @gollyderek @greatwombatblaze @songforhema @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom

#rainandhotchocolate #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius imagine #sirius black imagine #sirius fic #sirius black fic #marauders x reader #marauders imagine

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