#I know it’s quite a few months away from pride month but. shush

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Still thinking about that one idea of the BPS going to a pride parade-

Like. I imagine Seth doesn’t know the terminology or the specifics on sexuality, even if he’s very supportive of it. Spent a long period of his life questioning if he was supposed to feel connections with people or if there was something wrong with him. Only to find out that it’s perfectly normal and that there’s an actual term for it

Being around supportive people who know exactly what it’s like

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Let's call it Fate | Part 4

(A/N) Starting to go somewhere...I hate myself for the slow burn, don't worry.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, misstreatment of Ghouls ;-;

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

The moment Cardinal Copia announced that class was over and it was time for lunch, you slumped down on your desk. You had always prided to be smart, well-read. But Latin really got you to doubt all that. Of course, this was just the first lesson and it was a quick introduction of what you’d cover over the course of the next few months, but you were already done. If you didn’t know better, you’d ask why you had to learn a dead language. But you knew better. You knew that most of the satanic prayers used in the Ministry were in Latin. So knowing the language made sense, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the Cardinal moving in your direction. Everyone else had left by that point, or so you thought.

“You okay, girly?”

You looked up and saw Lila standing beside you, an empathetic smile on her lips. She held out her hand, pulling you up as soon as you placed yours in hers.

“Let’s grab some food, yeah? Will make you feel better.”

While she was talking, you risked a quick glance toward Cardinal Copia. He was frozen, a few steps away from your table, watching you. When your eyes met, he smiled and nodded, which you quickly returned before focusing on Lila again.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

She smiled and linked her arm with yours before pulling you out of the classroom and toward the mess hall. On the way, you passed the same Ghouls that were in the classroom earlier. You quickly waved to them, before Lila dragged you further along, noticing the taller one wave back just before you rounded a corner.

When you entered the mess hall, you quickly noticed how full it was, a stark contrast to that morning. Lila and you immediately got into queue, loading food onto your plates as soon as you had the chance. Once both of you were satisfied with the amount of food you got, you searched for a place to sit. Your eyes immediately landed on the table you had sat at during breakfast, and seeing that it was almost empty, you led Lila there.

“Is it okay if we sit here?”

The members of the Ministry nodded and Lila and you sat down, quickly digging in. You were ready to spend lunch in silence, but Lila had other plans.

“Latin’s already giving you trouble, eh?”

She chuckled when you sighed and nodded.

“How is it not giving you trouble?”

She shrugged, piercing half of a tomato with her fork, before lifting the cutlery and waving it in the air.

“My parents started teaching me when I was a child. It’s true what they say, learning stuff is easier the younger you are.”

“Yeah, well that would’ve been quite useful. But hey, these violin lessons really paid off…not.”

Lila chuckled.

“Just give it time. It looks worse than it is. And if you need help, just let me know, I’m sure we can squeeze in some extra lessons.”

Her words lifted some of the weight off your shoulders. Knowing you could rely on her, have her as a friend made you feel better than you had in days.

You spent the rest of lunch with Lila rambling on about her life back home and how much she hated most of the people in the group. How arrogant they were and how a certain someone just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You expected as much, but you still felt annoyed when she told you about how Noah had come on to every single girl in the group.

In response, you told her about how you’re in an arranged marriage with him.

“WHAT?”

You quickly shushed her, as you suddenly felt a lot of eyes on you.

“Your parents suck!”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

She was quiet for a few minutes, her knife dangling between her fingers as she stared at it deep in thought.

“You know…dead guys can’t marry…”

Your eyes widened at her words, but she quickly burst out laughing when she saw your face.

“Nah, I’m just joking. Unless…”

You chuckled and shook your head. If only that was a viable solution. Sure, you were in a satanic church, but murder is something that isn’t accepted, not even here.

“Anyway, what-”

Lila was interrupted by a soft bell sounding through the mess hall. And when you checked your watch you noticed that it was one p.m., time to start work.

The two of you quickly brought back your plates, before saying goodbye. You watched Lila run off before you turned to look at the head table, searching for Papa Primo, but he wasn’t there. Cardinal Copia, Papa Secondo, Papa Terzo, and Sister Imperator were all there, but there was no sign of the oldest brother.

You quickly made your way across the hall, bowing your head in respect once you were close.

“Ah, what can I do for you, my child?”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Papa Terzo address you. Once you lifted your head, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander across the people in front of you, not sure what to say.

“I…uhm…”

The current Papa chuckled as he got to his feet.

“Oh, no need to be nervous, piccola. Tell your Papa what worries you.”

He took slow, calculated steps toward you. Steps that almost seemed flirtatious.

“Terzo…”

You looked up, your eyes meeting Cardinal Copia’s. His gaze flickered from you to his brother, hardening whenever it would land on the current Papa.

“My apologies, Papa. I meant to talk to Cardinal Copia, I have a question for him. I’m very sorry.”

Papa Terzo immediately froze, a confused frown on his face.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?”

Behind Papa Terzo, you watched Cardinal Copia stand up as he glared at his brother.

“I am sure you could help me, Papa. But I wouldn’t want to steal your time for such a trivial matter.”

That seemed to appease Papa Terzo, as he smiled and nodded, before motioning for his brother to join me. Your gaze immediately flickered to the Cardinal and you couldn’t help but giggle as you caught him rolling his eyes at his brother’s theatrics. As he walked by Papa Terzo, Cardinal Copia bowed his head in respect, but as soon as he had reached you and was out of earshot from the others, he began rambling in Italian. You tried to hide the smile on your face but were unsuccessful.

“Does he amuse you, cara?”

You chuckle, nodding.

“A little. He is…very self-assured. And flirtatious.”

Cardinal Copia nodded, finally stopping and fully turning to look at you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

You suddenly remember why you even approached the table in the first place.

“I didn’t see Papa Primo at lunch today, so I wondered if someone brought him food? I assume he’s in the greenhouse.”

“Si, one of the Ghouls usually brings him a plate. The way from the Ministry to the greenhouse is too uh…estenuante to make it multiple times a day.”

You nodded, before glancing at the buffet. There was still a good amount of food left.

“Do you know if the Ghoul has already left? If not I can grab the plate and bring it to Papa Primo, I’m headed down there anyway.”

The Cardinal smiled and nodded, walking to the buffet with you following.

“He likes spicy food, probably because he can’t gusto that well anymore.”

He grabbed one of the plates and started loading some of the curry that was served on it, along with rice. He then walked over to the dessert section and grabbed another, smaller plate.

“He also has a massive golosi, uh…sweet tooth.”

He grabbed a glass of chocolate mousse with a berry topping as well as two pieces of chocolate cake. While the Cardinal finished up, you went and grabbed a tray, bringing it back so you could carry everything down at once. Together, you filled the tray with the two plates, as well as a glass of water, a glass of juice, and some cutlery.

“Thank you cara.”

You smiled and bid your goodbye, before making your way to the greenhouse. Thankfully, you knew how to get around by now. Within a few minutes, you reached the door that led outside, and once you pushed that open, you were at the greenhouse in no time.

“Papa Primo? I brought you lunch.”

You gently pushed the door open, walking in to find Papa Primo sitting at the table you had shared fruit at the day before. He perked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile on his face.

“Ah, tesoro. Grazie mille.”

With a gentle thud, you set down the tray in front of him. He immediately picked up the cutlery and started eating. He must’ve been hungry.

“Do you…always have to wait until after lunch for someone to bring you food?”

The old man shrugged with a smile on his face.

“I’m already being catered to, I won’t complain about having to wait a bit.”

You nodded in understanding, before looking around. Everything seemed to be in order within the greenhouse, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

“Well, tell me what to do boss.”

Papa Primo chuckled, looking you up and down for a second, before turning back to his food.

“Before we start, you should probably change. Don’t want you to get your habit all dirty and sweaty.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. But on the other hand, you weren’t sure what to change into. Sure, you brought some stuff with you, but nothing sturdy enough for some yard work.

“The Ghouls should have brought something to your room by now. Go, take your time and when you’re ready, come back here. And don’t forget to grab some acqua from the mess hall on the way. It is going to be a hot day.”

With a nod, you left and quickly made your way back to your room. Once there, you found a new uniform lying on your bed. It was a black overall made of thick but breathable material. You quickly changed, putting on a black shirt underneath, before pulling the straps over your shoulders. You also put on the new pair of boots that were sitting underneath the window. Before you left your room, you glanced in the mirror and decided to put your hair up in a ponytail.

As Papa Primo had asked, you grabbed a few water bottles before returning to the greenhouse. Once there, Primo pointed to a small cooler, where you put the bottles.

“It’s not much, but it will keep them freshi for longer.”

You nodded before turning back to look at him, awaiting his command.

He spent the next two hours giving you an introduction to the greenhouse, showing you the different plants and what they need. As soon as you were done with the greenhouse, he led you outside and showed you the fields, assuring you that they weren’t part of your duties, but he wanted you to be familiar with them.

Once the introduction was done, he handed you a basket and together you went to the back and harvested the ripe fruits. Soon enough, you had to grab a second basket, since the first one was already overflowing. As soon as you were done, you placed the second basket in the cooler, while Primo arranged the first one to look a bit prettier.

You watched him, amazement slowly filling you as he made a simple fruit basket look like a piece of art. All too soon he was done and turned to you. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw the look in your eyes, he smiled instead.

“I can teach you how to arrange something like that if you’d like. Not today, but at some point.”

You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle.

“Good. For now, could you please take this up to my brother’s office? Uh, Terzo. Terzo’s office.”

“Of course. Uhm…where is it?”

“Oh…right.”

Papa Primo quickly described the easiest way to get to the currents Papa’s office. Once you were sure you could find it, you left the greenhouse and made your way back up to the building. At first, it was easy to to follow the instructions given, but all too soon, you had to admit to yourself that you were lost.

If anybody had been around, you would have asked for help, but the halls were deserted, so you had no other choice but to keep going. After a few minutes, you no longer knew how to get back to where you had just come from. You spun around, looking in all different directions, searching for something familiar.

“Miss? Are you lost?”

The voice cut through the silence, making you jump as you spun to look at who had talked. And there stood the same two Ghouls from earlier. It was clearly the smaller one who had spoken, you recognized the voice once the beating of your heart calmed down. The taller one just stood beside him, not grinning.

“I uh…yeah. Papa Primo asked me to take this to Papa Terzo. He described the way, but I must’ve turned the wrong direction at some point.”

The smaller Ghouls smiled.

“If you want to go to Papa Terzo’s office, you’re completely wrong. Come, we’ll show you the way.”

You smiled at them and nodded, following when they started to lead the way. You noticed that the taller one kept looking back at you, so you quickened your pace until you fell into step with him.

“May I ask, who is who? I know your names are Swiss and Dewdrop, but Cardinal Copia never told us which name belongs to which of you.”

The smaller one smiled and introduced himself as Dewdrop, before pointing at his larger friend.

“And this is Swiss. He is a big baby, a bit shy, but all in all he’s friendly.”

The taller one immediately grinned again and you smiled, introducing yourself.

“The part of the Ministry you were just in, you should stay away from. It’s where we Ghouls live. Most of us are friendly, but some are a bit…well…”

Swiss quickly jumped in.

“Territorial?”

Dewdrop nodded.

“Yeah, territorial fits well. Especially since most of the members aren’t as nice to us as you are.”

“Why…why is that?”

Swiss chuckled darkly.

“They see us as servants. Nothing more than dirt that can be replaced.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Now that’s bullshit.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Swiss looped an arm around your neck and pulled you into his side, basically holding you in a headlock as he ruffled through your hair.

“Oh, I like you.”

“Ow, ow, ow.”

You laughed as Swiss finally let you go, before fixing your hair as good as possible with one hand. Then you turned to look at him, a grin on your face.

“I like you too, Swiss.”

After a few minutes of walking and talking, you finally stood in front of a set of large, ornate wooden doors. It was obvious that something important laid behind them.

“A bit pompous, don’t you think?”

Swiss chuckled and nodded, while Dewdrop just shushed the two of you. But it didn’t keep you from laughing together. At least not until the door suddenly opened.

“Who is making such a ruckus out he-. Oh, cara. What can I do for you?”

The Cardinal looked annoyed until his eyes met yours. A soft smile found it’s way onto his face, as he completely ignored the two Ghouls next to you. And as Swiss watched you and the Cardinal Copia, he let out a low whistle, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“He has the hots for you, girl.”

You turned around, about to smack him when you remembered that you had company. So, instead you glared at him, making him chuckle, before you turned back to the Cardinal.

“Papa Primo asked me to bring these to Papa Terzo. I got lost on the way, Dewdrop and Swiss brought me here.”

The Cardinal nodded in understanding before ushering you inside and asking the Ghouls to wait for you. And once inside the office, you were proven right. The room looked more like the private room at a club than an office. Soft couches everywhere, thick curtains to keep out the sun and low lighting. Papa Terzo sat on the largest one of the couches, a cigar between his fingers.

“Ah, piccola, I knew you’d be back sooner than later.”

Translations: piccola...little one cara...dear estenuante...exhausting tesoro...little treasure/darling gusto...taste Grazie mille...thank you very much acqua...water freshi...cool

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[anika-ann]

Walk Me Home Tonight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, songfic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 4700

Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to be in a celebratory mood when all you can think of is that life sucks and that being left on your own to drown your sorrows is for the best.

Sometimes people who care about you know better than yourself and come crashing your party of one.

Sometimes, despite the popular belief, you do realize how lucky you are having been introduced to Steve Rogers.

Warnings: mention of blood and violence and death, mention of alcohol, angst, fluff and language

A/N: P!nk’s Walk Me Home just does something to me, alright? Music video included - it’s soooo beautiful.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

You stared at the amber liquid, lazily making it roll in the glass with idle motions of your wrist. It reflected the rather soft lights of the bar, an exquisite game of colour you found fascinating enough to dull your mind and muffle the noise of the party.

It wasn’t that you were a party pooper, not usually anyway; just… the timing wasn’t ideal.

Of course, Sharon could hardly move her birthday to make it more convenient for you, less so a party her colleagues had decided to throw for her. You knew Agent Carter for quite some time now; she had joined SHIELD about the same time as you, going through the same tough training. Except unlike you – and initially without your knowledge – she had an image to live up to.

You might even call her a friend, your chest bursting in pride for her when her hard work had finally borne some fruit and she had been promoted to an assistant director of the intelligence agency. Among other things, it earned her a lot of new potential friends.

You were hardly acting like one tonight, much to your own annoyance. But for some reason, you found it difficult to leave your momentary emotional baggage at the doorstep, slipping it off as easily as your coat. You had wished her all the best, conversed for a tiny bit and then happily made space for others, for the forming line of guests waiting to celebrate with her as well.

Then you retreated to your spot at the bar, possibly annoying the bartender, who would have been more delighted seeing some heavier drinker occupying your seat, tipping generously, instead of having you nursing each glass of alcohol for about two hours.

You weren’t even sure why you were still here; you had given up on the attempt on small talk with anyone, apparently unwittingly chasing away any potential company. And here you thought misery did love company – perhaps you were wrong, at least when it came to birthday parties of gorgeous women loved by everyone. You might as well pack up your bottom and sulk at home.

You were stubbornly shushing the voice in the back of your skull, whispering about knowing precisely why you remained in your seat; about feeling less alone here, despite being a literal loner in a crowd.

You downed the rest of the bitter scotch, basking in the burn which it left on its way down your throat, your eyelids slipping shut in content, the noise in your brain falling silent completely for few blissful moments.

“Party of one?” a male voice gently asked, the tinniest note of teasing in it and while your heart skipped a startled beat at being addressed, you felt the burn in your throat slip lower, warming your chest and causing the corners of your mouth turn up just a fraction.

 There's something in the way you roll your eyes Takes me back to a better time When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

 “Felt like crashing it?” you hummed in response, side-eyeing the intruder and found a pair of cerulean eyes staring back. He blindly waved off the eager bartender who was about to offer him a drink.

Ah, poor guy. No tips for him tonight.

“Well, I didn’t get an invitation. Looks like crashing was my only option.”

You sighed tiredly despite Steve’s kind teasing. Tonight was just… so exhausting. Tonight. Today. This week. Gah, this whole month. This fucking year--- okay, maybe you were exaggerating, because you were simply crossing the line, moving from relaxed buzzed drunk to a miserable one.

Battling with yourself, arguing whether you should send him to hell – nicely, because Steve was nothing but kind, he was always so kind, goddammit, gentle humour spiced with the ability to become an utter troll, still benign though, that was why you usually enjoyed his company so much after all-… – or call it a night.

Or should you order another drink? Was there a point? You might cross the line to a clingy drunk eventually and you weren’t certain that was a good idea.

It was probably about as good of an idea as coming to a party despite feeling like shit on an emotional roller-coaster, dangerously inclining towards a very bad mood to put it mildly.

You tilted your head to side as you looked at Steve properly, tight blue shirt flattering his supersoldier frame, black pants with desperately needed leather belt considering his thin waist, his blonde hair a mess, gaze fixed on you, observing. Always observing to read people, to anticipate behaviour, evaluate the threat; sometimes simply to be considerate, to… to be compassionate.

Dammit, Steve.

“Must have got lost in the mail then,” you said eventually, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he shrugged it off, the curve of his lips more distinct than yours. As if he was offering to cheer you up. Sweet, but possibly vain effort tonight. Sometimes, things simply piled up and there was no escape. Such was the fate of a government agent. And human, for that matter. “Doesn’t look like much fun and I think it’s about to end anyway.”

“I guess…”

 Tryna stand up on my own two feet This conversation ain't comin' easily And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

 This time, Steve actually made an eye contact with the bartender, who eagerly rushed to him at instant. His excited expression fell when he noticed you were pulling out your wallet to close your tab. You didn’t have the strength to shoot him an apologetic smile.

Steve’s eyes were on you the whole time, you could feel them, and you wondered why. Until he spoke again, as soon as the other man left.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” he offered gentlemanly, coaxing you into saying yes, possibly unaware of the effect which such tone had on people.

Or perhaps he knew, using exactly that when he was trying to talk someone down, to calm them, gain their trust. The joke was on him, because it was a vain effort; you trusted him fully already. Surely, he knew that.

Right?

Trust was the solid base the team of Avengers needed and since you somehow found yourself with them, it involved you too. The team stood and fell on trust and mutual respect. But it meant so much more – they were friends. They cared about each other, about their well-being.

Right now, Steve was being a good friend and a good teammate.

And you were being exactly that too when you turned his kind proposition down.

“No, it’s fine. There are still some people who are actually able to speak coherently with you. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out, as if admonishing you for not noticing. Your eyebrow rose deliberately.

“…and?”

“And I’d feel better if you weren’t walking the streets alone,” he replied easily, ignoring the hint of snark in your comeback as you made your way to the coat-stand.

Still walking on the line of miserable and pleasantly buzzed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean to him for such patronizing approach. He had been raised this way and despite his open mind and admirable respect to women, he slipped sometimes.

“Steve, I’m a SHIELD agent basically turned Avenger. I can take care of my-“

“But you don’t have to. And-” He gestured subtly back towards the bar and a metaphorical lightbulb flickered above your head.

Not patronizing then, god forbid chauvinist; Peggy Carter would rise from the death to beat him with his own shield, with Natasha’s enthusiastic help, if he was showing any sign of aforementioned qualities and he was well-aware of that.

Just mother-henning then, the way Steve excelled at.

It brought the first honest smile of the night to your lips. You made sure to face him so he could see how wholesome his company was for you.

“I’m not too drunk, Steve. I had like two glasses of scotch,” you assured him, gently brushing his forearm before reaching for your coat and scarf. “And two beers.”

“I know,” he stated, stealing your coat only to hold it out for you to slip into it.

God, the woman who would once win his heart was about to be one lucky bitch.

Jim has never done this for me, flashed through your mind and you instantly shushed the whining voice in your head. Instead, you went over what he just said, blinking in surprise.

Huh? He… knew?

“I… might have kept an eye on you,” he admitted tentatively, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating and letting you to cocoon in the fabric.

“Why?”

Why would he keep an eye on you? Sure, teammates and friends and all that, but for some reason, you doubted he kept an eye on Tony, the only other Avenger (beside Steve, not Steve and you, you don’t count, a voice hissed in your mind and you winced) who attended the party, not being on any mission at the moment.

Why did Steve feel like you needed a chaperone?

No, that was too harsh of a word for him, you were certain his intentions were everything but malicious, but… why?

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

 The genuine wonder must have been audible in your voice, much like your shock must have been clear in your expression, because Steve seemed sheepish all of sudden, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I mean, I know that you probably wouldn’t-“ he started, only to grimace. “It’s not that I think you’re an alcoholic! It’s just that... you--- and it’s only been-…“

-four days since you got dumped, you finished the unspoken sentence and tried your best to ignore the cold seeping into your bones at the reminder.

One of the reasons why you had been in a sour mood and deciding to drink alone. Your amazing asshole of a boyfriend had dumped you, metaphorically kicking you while you had already been down. Lovely.

“-I was worried. But you didn’t look like you were interested in having company, I didn’t want to be a bother and-“

You pulled Steve out of his misery by placing a hand over his forearm, which stopped the words spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

He was actually being very sweet and thoughtful. It kinda made you feel bad, because… you weren’t looking for dragging someone down with you. As it was, he had his own reasons to not be happy about partying tonight, but feeling like he had to keep an eye on you probably didn’t help to lift his spirits.

“-and you had to spend some time with the woman of the hour,” you finished instead of him slowly, hoping you sounded at least half as thoughtful as he did and that you didn’t appear to be the greatest bitch, stealing attention from Sharon. “That’s understandable, Steve. It is her birthday party and I’m the one being antisocial.”

You bit down your lip, lowering your gaze, because the infamous worried wrinkle appeared on Steve’s forehead and you just knew he was about to protest and you… honestly felt bad about your behaviour and the welcoming colour of his eyes was not helping to make you feel any better, because of course he probably thought it was perfectly normal to look out for you instead of allowing himself to enjoy the night and- ugh.

“You… you shouldn’t have to look out for me. Your attention could have been fully on the birthday girl.”

Naturally, Steve Rogers basically shrugged it off. Covering your hand on him with his large palm, he slouched to look into your eyes once more. Insistent bastard, no doubt aware of your inability to say no to his amiable face.

“That’s what friends are for. Now, can I walk you home?”

You shook your head with a sad smile, rising your gaze towards the ceiling, hoping it came out as an exasperation at his stubbornness and not as it truly was – you in fact attempting to keep your tears at bay, because, miserable drunk, dumped four days ago apart from other things and there he was, asshole perfect, Steve fucking Rogers, gentleman and friend extraordinaire, caring for your well-being more than Jim ever had.

A twinkle appeared in his eye when he recognized he won and you chuckled, sealing his victory out loud.

“Yes, Steve. You can walk me home. It’s conveniently located on the way to yours.”

He smirked when he shrugged on his own coat. “Happy coincidences…”

 There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

 Once you left the bar, silence fell on you, feeling heavy as did the cold November air.

Heavy and awkward. While you could tell with certainty you were barely affected by the alcohol you had drunk, your steps were wobbly, knees shaky as if you were a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time.

Steve walked by your side, majestic in his thigh-length coat, hands snugged in its pockets only halfway as if he was waiting for you needing his support. It irritated you as much as it warmed your heart.

On top of everything, you would swear every lone person you met stared at you, staring you up and down until they seemed to register Steve’s imposing frame and quickly went back to their business. It annoyed you to no end; it was just proving Steve’s point that you shouldn’t walk the streets alone at such hour, government agent or not.

“I would have been fine, you know,” you hummed, cautiously breaking the relative quiet.

It was never truly quiet in New York City, only rush hours alternating with calmer ones. You didn’t mind it; you enjoyed the city. Sometimes quiet meant that thoughts won the opportunity to become too loud; tonight, for some reason, despite the silence, Steve prevented that ever since he joined you.

It dawned to you then, how ungrateful you sounded and you quickly added “But thanks.” –  a whisper full of honesty.

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the silence weighted so much because your mood wasn’t the only cause of it.

Steve was showing you that he worried; surely, you could as well? Because you did, worry about him that was.

“…are you? Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked distractedly, but you could hear the frown on his face, the image of his nose scrunched in confusion painted in front of your eyes even without looking at him.

“Just… today-” you nudged him once more and vaguely eyed your watch only to be reminded that ‘today’ was a confusing term. “Or, more like, yesterday…”

A sharp inhale was drawn at your side and you could sense as he started closing off, putting up his walls so no one would catch a scent of his weakness. You hated when he tried to do that. You would have thought you were past that. You liked to consider you two friends at least.

Tonight was simply not your night. Of either of you, apparently.

“What about it-?“

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Were you truly such a crappy company, an insensitive friend or was there something sorrowful and cranky in the air, preventing your communication channels from tuning to the same frequency?

You were aware what the day meant for him – another painful reminder of what he had lost with crashing the plane in the forties only to wake up in a new millennium.

Though this particular loss – of his mother – haunted him even back in what some people called his days. It was an utter non-sense. Steve belonged there as much as he belonged here. He was brave enough to try and stubborn enough to succeed in fitting in.

“Nothing, I guess,” you sighed once more, this time rolling your eyes. “…Mr. Nothing Can Touch Me.”

The wry nickname hung in the air for a while, the faint noise of the night city washing over your pair. When Steve broke it again, there was a barely audible crack in his voice.

“I… I’m okay. I think. I… should be. It’s been so long. Decades,” he mused, turning his gaze to the sky. His eyes glistened and if you didn’t know him, hadn’t witnessed his walls lowering before, you would have thought it was just the streetlights reflecting.

You knew better. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his, not remembering when his hands had left his pockets. You were grateful for it now, especially when he didn’t retrieve from your touch instantly.

“Not for you,” you pointed out quietly, rewarded by the softest squeeze of his warm hand.

The heaviness and tension you had felt before resolved with the gesture. Something finally fell into place and you were almost you again and he was almost him.

Two figures, carrying their griefcases, but functioning and… harmonizing once more.

“How did you know?”

“That’s what friends are for, Steve,” you echoed his earlier words, sending a tiny smile his way, meeting his glassy gaze. “They remember important dates, good or bad.”

“No one else did. Not that I can actually hold it against Buck, of course... but no one… you…” his voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought – or perhaps he had never truly directed it to the station in the first place.

Your shoulders moved a fraction, a hint of a shrug-off. His hand wrapped around yours tighter in silent appreciation, not showing any sign of intending to let go.

And you were alright with that. More than alright.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

His presence was always immense, overwhelming even; yet so comfortable you didn’t have the slightest problem with opening your heart to him, offering it to him even when it was bleeding. And now, finally tuned together, it was no different.

You bared your heart to him, even if it hurt.

“She didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice pained in the dead of the night and he didn’t react, letting you to gather strength to elaborate. You cleared your throat as the lump grew in it.  “Kayla, one of the kids… from last week’s mission. I found out yesterday… she-she didn’t make it, she had too many injuries. Word is that perhaps it was even a blessing. A relief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve repented, his grip growing stronger just a fraction, enough to make your chest and eyes burn.

“Yeah, so am I.”

Whatever he heard in your voice, it caused his fingers twitch in your hand, his footsteps slowing down. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Wasn’t it? If I was faster, if I-“

Steve stopped in his tracks completely, pulling at your hand to make you do the same and face him.

You closed your eyes when his blue ones met them, unable to stand the urgency in them. His free hand curled around your shoulder, caressing in attempt at comfort.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Hypocrite, you threw back at him in your mind, stubbornly keeping your eyelids shut, simply knowing that if you saw the sincerity in his gaze in addition to the fervour he spoke with, you might actually believe him. “You did your best. I know that, Nat and Buck know, everyone does. A monster you helped to put behind bars hurt the kids. Not you. You saved so many lives.”

You shook your head with a sigh, staring straight ahead as you turned on your heels and continued your path. Steve, never letting go of your hand, followed reluctantly.

“Sometimes I think he might have been right, you know?”

Peripherally, you saw him frown again and you cursed yourself for drinking – it untangled your tongue and his stupid face made your spill your guts to him, vomit emotion. You weren’t too secretive about your feelings most of the time, but damn, you hated how alcohol pushed your boundaries of sharing them.

“… Jim. He said that maybe I should give it up. That I’m just running alongside you, heroes, pretending to be one of you, but in the end, I’m not even close to being as good-“

Steve’s feet took roots in the ground, his steely grip forcing you to stop – as long as you wanted to keep your hand attached, which yeah, you kinda did.

“I feel like taking a detour now,” he muttered darkly and for a short moment, confusion was everything you felt, blissfully overtaking the anger, the sorrow, the helplessness and the feeling of utter uselessness.

“Huh?”

“Where does Jim live?” Steve spitted out the name venomously and you couldn’t help the wave of affection washing over you. Affection towards this treasure of a man who apparently wanted to punch another human being because it offended his friend. “He has no business saying something like that. Especially if his bullshit actually affects you-”

“Steve, he wasn’t wrong, I’m just-“ you sputtered, caught off guard when you registered the fire in his glare.

“We all make mistakes. But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t even make any that day. I read the report, and I know you, you put everything you got and more into the rescue mission. How can he-“ he hissed, literally taking a calming breath as both of his hands balled into fist.

Well, one of them only nearly, since it was still holding yours. It actually stung a bit, the bones in your hand close to grinding against each other.

“-I haven’t met him many times, but if he said that instead of comforting you after an incredibly draining mission, then I’m glad that that asshole is gone from your life. … though I would still appreciate his address.”

Blinking away the few stray tears that welled up, you forced a smile as Steve’s strict glare found yours. It felt good, seeing his indignation; having someone else exasperated on how Jim had reacted. He should have given you a hug and hold you tight; that was what you would wish for. Instead, he told you to stop complaining and when you accused him of not supporting you, he called you a whiny bitch who should make up her damn mind and broke things off.

You deeply appreciated Steve’s display of chivalry, hell, you half-considered giving away the address just so Jim would hear someone else agreeing with you, but you were honestly just tired. And you had a feeling Steve wouldn’t stay only at words and seeing any more blood, any more aggression would have been too much for you tonight.

Tonight, you… you needed serenity and comfort.

“…thank you. That… that means a lot. But… maybe just walk me home? Please? Could you walk me home, Steve?” you pleaded softly, barely audible, not caring it sounded like weeping of a needy child.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the last thing you resembled in Steve’s eyes. Your imploring gaze, vulnerable and open, it moved something inside him, his anger silenced for the moment, leaving him defenceless, unable to say no. Not that he had an intention to do so. He always had trouble saying no to you.

So he forced his fists to relax, running his thumb over the back of your hand and whispered the only word that made sense.

“Always.”

You settled back to the comfortable silence after that.

 Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

 You reached the Tower hand in hand.

Neither of you released the other. Not during the elevator ride, not when you walked the halls lined with doors leading to each’s private quarters.

You were still holding onto each other when you came to a stop in front of your door; rest assured, Steve Rogers would lead you right to your door even if his was only at the end of the very same corridor.

Standing nearly chest to chest, his eyes bored into yours with seriousness that surprised you.

“For the record, you do a great deal of good,” he reassured you, saying it as if he truly meant it. It tugged at your heart, sweet and bitter. “You’re amazing and you’re the most authentic of all of us. I admire you.”

That claim caused you to chuckle. Now he was laying it on a bit thick, downright exaggerating.

“You admire me? Steve, that’s really nice of you to say, but don’t be ridi-“

Your words died in your throat when his large palm splayed over your cheek, cradling it gently. When the paddle of his thumb swiped over your other cheek, soft smile playing on his lips, his irises bright with a promise, time seemingly stopped along with your heart.

“And you’re a great friend to the whole team, a wonderful person. Do me a favour and finally learn to accept a compliment,” he asked of you in hushed voice, the electric blue and green of his eyes locking you in. “If he didn’t praise you enough for you to get used to it, he was doing something wrong.”

You gulped, a silly association with the word ‘praise’ allowing you to break from the cage of his gaze that had previously had your mind gone blank.

“I’m not a dog to be praised, Steve…”

One corner of his lips – and when did they got so close anyway? – twitched. And then a tender kiss landed on your forehead, just the softest brush of lips against your skin. The gesture, utterly incomprehensible for you, had your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m very much aware. Believe me, doll, I know. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

You only nodded at the ridiculous statement – why was he thanking you? – too perplexed at the fact his lips had made contact with your skin. When did you cross the line towards the delusional drunk?

His fingertips caressed your face as he let go, wishing you to have a good night. Too baffled, you were unable to respond until he had already made his way to his door and you suddenly missed the warmth of his presence.

Breaking free from your haze, you acted on impulse, apparently startling him when you called his name out of blue so urgently.

“Steve!”

Whipping his head around to look at you, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Uh… are you ready to go to bed or… or maybe… would you like to watch a movie or something?” With me?

I don’t think I’m ready to be alone. Ready to be without you.

Even from the distance, you would swear you saw his lips spread in a slow honey-sweet smile.

“I think I’d like that,” he called out lowly. “Ten minutes? I’ll get the blankets. You pick the movie.”

“See you in ten then.”

You pretended that your heart didn’t flutter, sending a wave of familiar tingle through your chest and to your fingers, as you slipped inside your room with your mouth curled up in a content smile.

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

*✧･ Bonus *✧･

If Tony found them two and half hour later, closing credits rolling, the pair curled up and cuddling on the couch, you fast asleep in Steve’s arms, and he noticed that the supersoldier was in fact only faking to avoid an interrogation from the Ironman himself, he didn’t mention it. He just whispered to FRIDAY to turn off the TV and turn off the dimmed lights completely.

He hoped Rogers would treat you the way you deserved, unlike the man who now had farts announcing a received e-mail or texts, unable to change it, and a laptop turning on randomly, dead-pale children staring at him from the screen with hollow eyes and in clothes dripping water. Tony would hate to have to hack more tech again just to avenge your broken heart without your knowledge any time soon.

He’d rather suffer watching the two of his friends being disgustingly sweet on each other.

Probably.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

S.R. masterlist

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

Silent thanks to the person who came up with the word ‘griefcase’ as an alternative to emotional baggage.

Also, I’m pretty sure songfics aren’t supposed to be so long... oops?

Thank you for reading!

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

all night

Pairings - Loki x Reader x Bucky

Word Count - 1824

Warnings - MFM threesome, exhibitionism, oral (m and f receiving), voyeurism, basically PWP

A/N - It's been a whole month since I started to post fics, there's a whole Discord Family to thank for their support and advice. I especially want to thank @buckyownsmylife for beta reading and helping me almost everyday @bestofbucky for doing the same. This is totally self serving and is literally PWP but I have zero shame. Thanks to @angrythingstarlight for the gif!

Sitting in the common room with the rest of the team while the movie plays you feel easily distracted, you can’t quite put your finger on it but something feels off. You’re just grabbing your popcorn when you see it, the flash of lightning outside, announcing Thor’s entrance, closely followed by the more discreet green flash at the end of the corridor.

Getting up, you walk to the kitchen, smiling at your friends and grabbing a drink to ease your nerves. You didn’t want to do anything with Loki tonight but he knows you? too well and he always manages to talk you into bed.

Thor picks you up in a bone crushing hug a moment later, telling you how much he missed you and almost begging you to make the hot chocolate that he loves so much. You stand talking at the counter for 15 mins while he drinks, catching up and just enjoying talking to him when you feel a cool but pleasant feeling rubbing around your clit.

Standing up straight and adjusting yourself subtly, the feeling reduces but never fully goes away. You go back to talking about Thor’s latest adventure and the feeling comes back, this time stronger and more distracting. Excusing yourself, you go to find the man you absolutely know is responsible, you sit down next to him, raising your eyebrow and moaning softly when he uses his magic once again, only this time making you feel full and needy for him. Groaning at the smirk on his face you grab his arm and ask him to stop before it gets too good and your friends all get to witness something they really shouldn’t.

“Are you sure you really want me to stop, little one?” He whispers in your ear, licking around the shell and using his magic to make your whole body feel tingly. You look across the room and your eyes land on him, the reason you don’t want things to go as they usually do when the brothers visit. You know he’s watching you too, out of the corner of his eye, you can see his jaw clench and his fists tighten as he tries to remain calm.

The two of you had been trying to organise a date for the last two weeks but life just kept happening and this was the first night off either of you had in a long time. Not wanting your friends to know about it until there was something to know, you both decided to wait until people were more distracted.

Following your gaze across the room, Loki realises what’s going on and chuckles low in your ear. “So you’re interested in soldiers now, is that right, little one?”. You look up at him flushed with embarrassment and nod your head, he smiles and suddenly stops what he’s doing, a whine slipping out of your mouth at the sudden loss of feeling. He grabs some popcorn, eating a few pieces before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and whispers, “He’s listening to us right now, aren’t you, Sergeant Barnes?” Surprisingly you see a small nod from him and slap Loki’s chest when you feel a chuckle vibrate through him.

“How about we put on a little show for the Sergeant? Show him what he’s missing out by wasting time and not having you in his bed right now.” You look over at Bucky, then at Loki and a devious smirk crosses your face. You nod ever so slightly, a movement he picks up on easily, and with a little flick of his wrist you start to feel good again.

Warmth floods your whole body, setting you on fire, all of your nerves seem to be stimulated at once. Remembering where you are, you grip the armrest with one hand, squeezing it and regulating your breathing so you don’t moan out loud. You forget that you’re playing with the god of mischief, a fact that you’re reminded of when he watches you taking your deep slow breaths and he adds that feeling of fullness back again.

You squeak out a little moan and look around to see if anyone has noticed but your eyes, as they always do, land on Bucky. He’s still watching you out of the corner of his eye, biting his lip and clenching his fist. You feel a sense of pride wash over you thinking you could have this effect on him but it doesn’t last long.

Loki doesn’t much like you being distracted and before you can object you’re laying down on your bed, hands tied to the headboard and the god standing at the foot of the bed watching you. “Loki what are you doing?” he holds a finger in the air, silently asking you to wait. Watching him closely you’re about to protest when you hear your door swing open, you watch as Bucky walks round the corner, looking at the scene in front of him and taking a seat in the corner of the room.

“Please continue,” he motions to Loki, raising his eyebrow and challenging you both to stop. You grip the headboard as best you can while your wrists are bound and moan out as he continues to use his magic on you, closing your eyes and arching your back into the feeling, you can feel your underwear sticking to you as your juices soak into them. He brings you to the edge in a matter of moments, your throat sore from the moaning, you whine when he stops and look up at him.

“Loki, please,” you beg, but he's barely paying you any attention. Instead his eyes are on the soldier sitting in the corner, currently fighting against the tightness in his sweatpants as he watches you. Loki rolls his eyes then grins as one of his clones stands behind him, gripping his shoulders and whispering in his ear. You have no idea what's happening but you feel the familiar tingle start to build up again, chanting his name as you writhe on the bed, you turn to look at Bucky and are shocked to see him with his head thrown back, hands in his hair moaning out.

Your orgasm rushes through you and you scream out for Loki, hearing Bucky doing the same, your hands are suddenly freed and you feel almost boneless. You catch your breath as you sit up and motion both men to join you on the bed. Bucky almost looks shy as he walks over slowly and lays down next to you. “I didn’t even have to take your clothes away and look at you both, already so satisfied. The night is just beginning though, my little pets.” Leaning forward, he grips Bucky's hair at the roots and pulls him close, kissing him firmly and pushing his tongue in while you watch. “We are going to have so much fun tonight, little ones,” he says, using his magic to remove everyone’s clothes in a flash, both men turn to look at you and each lean down, kissing your neck and collarbone, their hands exploring your body as they settle in beside you.

You close your eyes and just relax, letting the two of them explore their way down your body. Suddenly, you feel Loki get off the bed, opening your eyes you pout at him when he sits in the seat previously occupied by the man currently easing his way between your legs. “Let me watch, just imagine i’m not here.” You almost go to protest but you feel two metal fingers work into you and you turn to the smiling man looking at you, his eyes almost a different colour as he stares up at you, curling his fingers just right, a twinkle in his eyes as your thighs tremble around him.

“Focus on me, doll.” You can’t take your eyes away from him as he dips his head down, gently licking your clit while continuing to push his fingers in and out. Laying back, you pinch and pull on your nipples when you feel your hands being pulled up and above your head. Looking over at Loki, he smirks and shakes his head, raising his eyebrow as if daring you to complain. Smiling at him, you’re used to how controlling he can be in the bedroom, you lay your head back down but squeak out in surprise a moment later when Bucky nips at your thigh. “I asked you to focus on me.” He smirks up at you when you clench at his firm tone.

Pulling his fingers out and sitting back, watching you squirm for him, he sucks them one by one. “Mmm delicious doll, tell me what you want.” You try to speak but your words won’t come out, both of you look over at Loki and he just shrugs before shushing you, gloating at your frustration before releasing your wrists and standing up, stalking over to you both and standing on the edge of the bed, he tilts your chin up and looks in your eyes.

“How about you show the Sergeant how good you are with this pretty little mouth while I have some fun of my own.” He leans down, kissing you and biting your bottom lip before you get on all fours, crawling into position in front of Bucky.

You smile up at him before licking his precum, moaning as you feel Loki pushing into you from behind. Between Loki thrusting forward and Bucky pushing deeper into your mouth, you’ve never felt fuller, focusing on breathing and not choking, you get distracted bythe noise you can hear above you. Trying to look up as best you can, you get a glimpse of the two men kissing before Loki holds your head in place, you focus on the cock in your mouth, clenching when you hear one of them moaning. “Oh, did you like that, little one?” Loki leans down and strokes your face gently. “You like the idea of us together?”.

Noddingas well as you can, he kisses your cheek before standing back up, gripping your hips and pounding into you. Every thrust pushes your head further down on Bucky’s member until your nose is touching his pelvis, drool running down your chin, you feel him spill down your throat with a loud moan before pulling back. You suck in a deep breath and moan out as the magic silencing you is lifted, it doesn’t take much longer before you cum hard, gripping the blanket beneath you and almost screaming at the sensation.

Laying down on the bed to calm yourself, Loki leans over the top of you, kissing you and almost certainly tasting Bucky on your tongue. Laying down next to you both, he passes out bottles of water and relaxes for a moment, taking a drink before turning on his side to face you. “Drink up doll, you’re going to need your energy”.

Part 2 - all day is here

[emperor-palpaminty]

Bruh I am SOFT can I have Western Tech with Fluff prompt 20?

DOCTOR VICTOR TRECH THE THIRD HAS MY HEART, bless you anon, especially this prompt? i’m melting

Also I had to changhe names again, Shaeeah isn’t a very “western” name, Suu became “Sue”, and Jek is close enough I think so he’s good!

And for those of you who don't know the AMAZING creator of this AU @hellothere-generalangsty has started that Tech was GOING TO PROPOSE but the woman turned him down. Ouch. Naturally I will use this to make myself sad.

Prompt 20: “My, oh my. You’re such a beautiful creature.”

Tech rolled up his sleeves, tying off the stitch. “There.” He slowly clipped the string and set his needle in the sanitization bowl. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Mrs. Laquwane smiled, her thick hair being tugged at by her son, Jek. “Are you feeling better, Shay?”

The girl nodded, glancing down at the puckered wound. "Will I get better?"

"Of course you will." Tech smiled gently, watching as Jek admired his sister's wound. "Ah, don't touch it, Jek." Sue tossed her son a frown, before turning back to Tech. "Here." He handed her a small jar, tapping on the lid. "Apply that to the cleaned surface every night. If you need more, let me know. I'll drop by next week to examine the stitches."

Sue smiled, pushing one of her thick braids over her shoulders. "Thank you, Tech."

“Of course, Mrs. Laquwane.” Tech smiled politely, nodding, as Shay grabbed her bonnet, examining the stitched in her arm again. “You have brave children.”

Jek tugged on his mother’s second braid, eyes gleaming in their sly, childish way. “Can I get stitches too?”

“Oh, heavens, I hope not.” Sue sighed as Tech chuckled, shaking his head slightly, waving politely as the trio left. He leaned on the doorway, chest swelling with pride- another long day of good work was done. A grin that only emerged when he felt like he had a genuine job well done fought its way onto his face as he ducked back into his office.

Tech slowly rolled up his things. He tugged the curtains shut and picked up his bag, sighing softly as he plunked his hat onto his head. Tech tucked his key into his pocket, shutting the door as he slowly began the trek home - just a few streets away.

It was only beginning to darken when he reached the inn. He nodded to Cid and tugged the watch from his pocket. He swelled with pride, examining the elaborate design on the clasp and the cover of the face. The time stated it was only now past six-fifteen, and he was late.

Cid frowned, puffing on her cigar. "You're late."

He offered a small smile, taking the little stack of mail she offered him. "I understand that."

She chuckled, tucking the cigar into her mouth. "Need some company? I bet one of the girls would-"

"No, I am quite alright." Tech spoke quickly, face flushing. "Thank you." Her laughter followed him up the stairs.

He unlocked his room, walking in, pausing briefly to light the oil lamp. The flame caught, and he blew out the match gently. He dropped the medical bag on his bed, sinking into the mattress with a soft creak. 

He turned over envelopes, skimming the names on them. Some were letters from family, a letter from one of his Universities (probably inviting him to lecture), and one was...

The light spilled on the cream envelope, dripping like blood. The name alone made his throat dry. Miss Sawyer, he swallowed, fingers trembling. He opened the letter, shakily.

His face was warm, eyes unbearably hot reading the words- palaces of paragraphs, telling Victor how wonderful life was and how it wasn't the same without him. She had told him he wasn't enough when he had gotten on one knee. That being a doctor's wife was not suitable for a woman of her stature- and here she was, months later, pouring an arsenic-laced honeyed apology into a leaf of paper.

Tech stood, abandoning the letter on his bed. He took no time to try and tug his overcoat back on, or button his waistcoat- he just flew down the stairs, past Cid, tears blearing his eyes, throat chapped as he tore towards the stables.

It was about twenty minutes into the ride when he knew where he was going, horse slowly manuvering up the red hills, caked with rocks. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the mane of the horse, inhaling its scent of alfalfa and leather. The horse knickered softly, pausing in it's canter as a dog barked.

Tech glanced up, pushing a hand in his sweat-slicked hair. The door to the house was thrown open, warm light pouring out into the falling night, and the herbalist ran out, a bulky jacket thrown on over her coat. She ran towards him, not walked, ran, her hair loose instead of pulled into a bun or braids. Her eyes shone even in the darkness as Tech climbed off the horse. "Doc, what-"

No words came from him. He reached out, collapsing against her, leaning down aw(wardky and pressing his face into her shoulder, every shaky breath inhaling the old smell of her jacket- smoke, pipe smoke, and vanilla. He clutched her, his breathing hitching.

She was secure, safe. He needed only her.

The herbalist only paused for a moment before closing her arms around him, vocalizing no objections. They stood together, the light at her back, and he steadily found his shakey feet on the steady ground of her.

Tenderly, she tugged away. "Let's go inside." She said, gently. "I have some tea, and a fire." Her lips pressed into a smile, and she nodded in encouragement, leading him to the warmth of her house, her home.

___

The couch was comfortable, Tech found, curled up, with the Herbalist handing him a cup of tea. He took a small sip, mumbling his thanks as she plopped down next to him, the heavy coat still on her shoulders. She watched him, eyes softened in the glow of the fire. "You've been crying."

He drew in a sharp breathe and started into the tea, the water bruising with leaves and their colors and he nodded. "Yes," He managed. He blinked to help bring some comfort to his dry eyes.

She crossed her legs, watching him. "You wanna talk about it?"

Tech glanced up from the cup, eyes scanning her face. "No," The doctor rasped. "I don't."

"Mm," She hummed, standing softly. Tech stared up at her as she moved, lowering her cup. "I can leave you alone-"

"No." Tech moved quicker than he could think, moving to her, crashing to his knees and grasping the skirt of her nightgown. "I can't be alone," His words were short of air, shallow. "Not again, not again."

He didn't want to look up. He just wanted to keep his face in her nightgown skirts, holding them- holding her- and forget what he had been running from. Hell, he had forgotten, the moment he saw her riding up to his stagecoach, like an angel of battle, and the only thing stirring in him was an overwhelming sense of her.

She moved her hands in his hair, shushing his cries. "Victor," She said, and the way she said it broke him. That concern, that love-

Quietly, she slid to her knees, too, and hugged him to her. "I'll stay, I'll stay with you. Or you can come sleep with me again." A rack happened in her lungs and she shook her head quickly. "Like last time. When I put my head in your lap-"

Tech picked his head up and kissed her, fingers winding in her coat. Her words were cut short by his kiss, the fire, the need in it. She hummed and pressed her hands in his hair, tugging him closer, tighter, and Tech felt like the fire- warm, hot, needy, comforting- his lust and his love were an oxymoron within themselves.

She pressed herself away, chest rising and falling against Tech's as her fingers brushed down to his waistcoat. Her eyes darted to his own, and she licked her lips, the delectible tongue peeking out from the supple fresh-kissed lips.

Tech ran his hand down the side of her face, the warmth exploding in his heart. "My, oh my," He sighed. Her skin was rosy, flushed from the kiss, cheeks the tint of rose-hips. "You're such a beautiful creature."

She sighed, leaning into him as he tugged her close, surrendering to his kisses.

Tech was done running for his past- he had found his future, here, in his arms.

[hxlyhead-harpies]

Brilliant (F.W.)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: Fred needs some help with school work

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: None

AN:  Hi everyone! Please just pretend that Fred didn’t get banned from quidditch in his seventh year please and thank you.

It was no secret that school was not one of Fred Weasley’s strong suits. He’d much rather spend his time goofing off with his brother, playing quidditch, or planning for the shop than spending countless hours completing assignments and studying for exams. He simply had better things to do. And while he knew that his future laid outside the realm of academic achievements, not everyone quite believed him. Or more accurately, believed in him.

So that was how he ended up in Snape’s office after class, the potions professor staring at him with his arms crossed and McGonagall looking down at him.

“Mr. Weasley do you know why we have called you here?” McGonagall asked sternly. Fred squirmed slightly in his seat.

“I’m not sure Minnie,” he said with a cocky smirk, “I may need you to enlighten me.” Snape scoffed from the other side of the desk.

“Well, first of all, I must remind you that my name is Professor McGonagall and you shall not call me by anything else,” she said seriously. Fred’s grin never faltered. “But it has come to attention that you are failing potions,” McGonagall said. Fred was surprised for a moment. He knew that he wasn’t doing particularly well, but he never imagined that he was failing. He turned and saw Snape smirking at him.

“If you have any interest in passing my class and graduating, I expect you to get a tutor,” Snape said eventually, a hint of smugness entering his tone. Fred frowned. The thing was, he didn’t intend to graduate. He and George were planning to leave in a few months anyway, was it really worth the hassle?

“I think I’ll pass on the tutor,” Fred said, making a move to leave the office. A hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Not so fast Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall warned. Fred turned to face her.

“Yes Minnie?” he asked with an annoyed smile.

“If you want to continue to play quidditch this year, I suggest that you take Professor Snape up on that offer and get a tutor,” McGonagall said with a frown. Fred froze.

“What?” he asked, slightly panicked.

“If your grade in potions does not improve to at least an acceptable, I can not let you participate in the quidditch season,” McGonagall explained. Fred let out a long sigh.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “Just give me the place and time.”

Fred was dreading having to go to the library to meet his tutor. It was early on a Saturday morning and he’d much rather be out with George and Lee than meeting some stuffy tutor in the library. Snape had told him who would be assigned to help him and Fred couldn’t help but grumble at the name. (Y/n) (L/n). (Y/n) was top of their year and the current Ravenclaw headgirl. She had taken an unspeakable amount of points away from Fred and his brother and she was always the first to raise her hand in class. She was the kind of person who was so smart that it was almost obnoxious.

Truly, he was in no position to judge the girl. He really did not know her and most likely had never even spoken to her outside of class before. But he was mad that he had to trudge across the castle at eight in the morning and that he actually had to open his books for once and the easiest way to cope was to blame it on her.

When Fred arrived at the library he saw her sitting in a corner. He was surprised to see that she looked just as tired as he was- her hair was messy and she was rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. She yawned as she spotted him and waved him over quickly. As he made his way over to her, Fred couldn’t help but chuckle. She was wearing a completely oversized jumper that covered her hands with the sleeves. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair looked as if she had run her hands through it countless times already. If anything, she looked more miserable than him.

“There you are,” she said as Fred slipped in a chair across from her.

“Sorry if I’m late,” he grumbled, plopping his books on the table.

“It’s fine,” she responded, “Snape had no business scheduling this session this early in the morning.” Fred laughed.

“Not a morning person then?” he asked. She groaned and shook her head.

“Not at all,” she said, scrunching up her nose. Fred’s bad mood slowly started to disappear. (Y/n) pulled out a roll of parchment and her quills, motioning for Fred to do the same.

“I figured that we could start the essay that’s due in two weeks, that way I can get a feeling of where you are,” you stated. Fred pulled out his materials. If he was being honest, he didn’t even know that there was an essay due in two weeks.

“Okay,” she started, opening up the textbook. “We have to write an essay detailing the process of how to make a befuddlement drought,” (Y/n) stated. Fred furrowed his eyebrows. He thought back to the previous class when he and George had royally screwed up that exact potion.

“Can you tell me what goes into a befuddlement drought?” she asked, peering up at him expectantly. Fred just stared at his parchment, completely and utterly clueless.

“I have no idea,” he said, turning to take a peek at her textbook. (Y/n) jumped to cover the recipe with her hands. He looked up at her, confusion etched into his face.

“Come on Fred,” she said, “I know you know this.” Fred scoffed.

“You’re giving me too much credit (L/n),” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. (Y/n) just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh come on. You’re incredibly smart I’m sure you know this,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him. Fred audibly laughed at this, causing Madame Pince to shush him.

“I may be many things,” Fred said, “but smart is not necessarily one of them.” (Y/n) narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh come off it Fred,” she said, “I’ve seen your products, you’d have to be incredibly smart to make them.” Fred furrowed his eyebrows.

“That’s different though. I’m not good at the things we have to do in class,” Fred stated.

“Just because you have trouble with classwork doesn’t mean you’re not smart. I couldn’t do half the things that you and your brother do,” (Y/n) replied. Fred scoffed.

“Oh come on! You’re basically the smartest witch in our year. You always get top marks in potions,” Fred said, making another reach for the textbook. She swatted his hand away playfully, an endearing gesture that made him smile.

“That’s because I’m good at following directions. I always do what people tell me to do,” she said, staring at him intently.

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Fred asked, leaning against his hands. (Y/n) shook her head and laughed.

“Of course not, Fred! If I was told to make a potion but I wasn’t given a recipe, I’d fail. I’m good at memorization but I don’t genuinely have a good understanding of the subject,” she said. Fred frowned, not quite understanding. “I know that you’re better at potions than me because you know what ingredients to put together to make a specific kind of reaction, I could never do that,” she explained further.

“Fine. I guess I have a general understanding of the subject. But I still don’t know the recipe for the befuddlement drought and I need to pass this essay if I want to play in the match next weekend. So if you could kindly hand this over,” he said, reaching once again for her book. She snapped it shut and laid her arms across it.

“Okay let’s think of this differently,” she said, “If you and your brother wanted to make a potion for your business that was supposed to make whoever ingested it extremely confused and disoriented, what would you put in it?” Fred leaned back in his chair, mulling over the answer.

“I guess some scurvy grass? Maybe some sneezwort?” he said after a moment. When he looked back up at (Y/n), she was smiling widely at him.

“Exactly!” she proclaimed. Fred’s jaw dropped slightly.

“Wait really?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/n) opened up the textbook and flipped it towards him. She dragged her finger to the top and traced the words on the page.

“You just named the two key ingredients,” she said proudly. Fred smiled at her, feeling his pride swell slightly.

“See,” she said, “I told you that you were smart.” Fred let out a chuckled.

“Eh, still not sure about that. I am devilishly handsome though,” he replied. She scoffed at his response before turning back to the book. And then, quietly, she murmured, “Well I think you’re brilliant.” Fred froze at her words and flushed deeply. They were spoken so softly that he wasn’t sure that he was even intended to hear them. The ardent way in which she mumbled those words and the soft determination behind them made it sound as if she was stating a fact, a rule of the universe. It sounded as if she was sure that sun rose in the east, that the sun set in the west, and that Fred Weasley was brilliant. The compliment was unlike one he had ever gotten before. So earnest and so simple. Fred wasn’t sure if he had ever even been called smart, let alone brilliant, before this morning, and he was certain he had never heard it so impassioned. The way that (Y/n) muttered the simple phrase almost made him believe it.

Fred began to look forward to his early morning tutoring sessions with (Y/n). Sure, he felt like he was learning and improving at the subject, but mostly he just enjoyed her company. She was funny in a softspoken way, her small quips sneaking up on him and making his face hurt from smiling. She was sweet, always reassuring him that he was capable of learning the material. She was also very cute, with her large sweaters and sleepy eyes, blushing whenever he flirted with her. He was almost sad to think that if his grades improved he would have to stop seeing her. Never in his life did Fred think he would enjoy studying this much.

The day that Fred turned in his potions essay, (Y/n) gave him an encouraging smile from across the room. He had written the whole thing by himself, recalling the information that he and (Y/n) went over in their sessions. He had never been so confident in an assignment and had never been so excited to turn one in. He wanted nothing more than for (Y/n) to be proud of him.

A few days later he got the essay back, Snape dropping it upsidedown on his desk. Fred snapped his eyes up to meet his professor’s, who only grimaced in response. He suddenly felt exceedingly nervous. What if his work hadn’t paid off? He didn’t want to face you if he had done poorly.

As he flipped over the parchment he could barely contain his smile. A large E sat across the top of the page. Exceeds expectations.

As the entire class filed out of the classroom, Fred waited for (Y/n) by the door. He leaned against the wall of the dungeons, waiting for her to pass the threshold and escape the classroom. When (Y/n) finally walked out, Fred scooped her up in a hug before she could even register that he was there.

“Fred!” she squealed as he picked her up and spun her around. When he placed her back onto the floor, his hands still on her waist, he couldn’t hold back the happiness that he felt.

“I’ll take it that you did well?” (Y/n) laughed, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“It seems that I have exceeded expectations,” Fred stated, puffing out his chest. She chuckled, her hands still clutching the fabric of his cloak.

“I’m so proud of you!” she said, staring into his eyes with the ghost of a giggle still gracing her lips. Fred threw his head back.

“I’m so excited I could kiss you!” Fred shouted with a laugh. If it was possible, she flushed darker.

“Fred!” she exclaimed, swatting him lightly in the chest. Fred captured her hand before leaning closer.

“I’m sorry darling but I’m not sure if I can help myself,” he said softly, a smirk playing at his lips. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at him.

“You get a guy one good mark and suddenly he’s falling at your feet,” she grumbled, sending him a playful look. Fred laughed heartily at her joke.

“Very funny smarty-pants,” he replied. She looked up at him, smiling widely. She took one look around the deserted hallway before she took Fred by surprise and kissed him herself. She pulled him closer by his robes and stood on her toes to reach his tall frame. Fred gripped her waist tighter and melted into her, smiling slightly. After a moment they broke apart, blushing and smiling widely.

“Eh not bad Weasley,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Not bad?” Fred sputtered, caught off guard by her response.

“But don’t worry. I’ve already proven that I’m a magnificent tutor, I think I can help you out with this too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @durmstrange​ @theweasleysredhair​ @bellaacunaa​

add yourself here

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Hogwarts No.1 Ship

Fandom: Harry Potter  Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Word count: 3.4k Summary: You - Rubeus Hagrid’s niece and a surprising slytherin - have a crush on the Slytherin prince himself, but you are sugar and he is spice and there is no world where the two of you would fit together...right? Warning: Swearwordsm concussion, broken bones, but mostly fluffffffffff Requested by the amazing and patient (I’m really sorry it took so long) @onlycherryblossom​: Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could right a Draco Malfoy x Reader. you know, the one we talked about. It'd be so awesome! i hope you have a good day/night! (I won’t put our chat in here so that I don’t spoiler anything)

Hogwarts had rarely ever known two students who were as opposite to each other as Draco Malfoy and Y/N Hagrid. Draco - who was the embodiment of how people imagined the stereotype of Slytherin to be - was (most of the time) a prideful, cold, unempathetic prick, while you were a selfless, positive thinking, kind and gentle soul that could‘ve been a descendant of Helga Huffelpuff herself. The two of you did have one thing in common though. Your house. The hat had made you both into Slytherins which was on Draco’s side not surprising at all, but quite a shock for everyone who had talked to you for even a minute. Probably the biggest shock was courtesy of Rubeus Hagris - Half-Giant and your adopted uncle (on his father’s side) - who insisted that the hat must have made a mistake, but was quickly shot down by Dumbledoor who assured that the hat didn‘t make any mistakes. After some initial tumbling though, Hagrid realized that the house didn‘t make the person and that it didn‘t matter in what house you were sorted into, you’d always be his little pumpkin. And he was quite right. Even after you had been a Slytherin for just about five years, you had only grown more kind and loving - having bonded with many people in the other houses and years, but not quite as many in your own house. You’d call Blaze and Millicent maybe something close to friends and Pansy tolerated you which is why you gave her the title of ‘good acquaintances‘, but other than that you didn‘t really have a lot of contact with them in your free time. The most complicated relationship you held though was the one to the aforementioned Draco Malfoy. In a weird twist of fate the two of you somehow became the main ship in Hogwarts (with Harry and Ginny or Harry and Hermione as close second) even though you couldn‘t remember more than two or three times that you had talked to the boy outside of a classroom or study environment. Sure, he had never bullied or teased you which already differentiated you from most of the students, but you simply explained it by the fact that you were a good student - especially in potions class - and behaved well enough to gain a number of house points which made you into a good asset to Slytherin and as such made you a less logical target. Now all in itself that would‘ve been more than fine with you, but for some stupid reason your heart decided to betray you against it‘s better judgement and fall for him. Somehow, even after years of seeing him kick others down and behave like a complete douchebag you couldn‘t help but blush slightly at the mention of his name and feel your heart flutter when you walked by him in the hall or in the common room. The worst part was in potions class where he sat right beside you after Snape deemed your former partner as way too unqualified for one of his best students and exchanged him for Draco. Working with him in and of itself was actually rather nice. He was a good student and did his work thoroughly and mindfully, but you found it hard to concentrate when his hand brushed yours as you read a passage in the book or when he poured ingredients in the coultron that you were stirring. You really tried to ignore your feelings and ban every thought of him, but it seemed like you weren‘t doing the best job at it since your uncle kept asking about what it was that was distracting you all the time. On a rainy October day fairly at the beginning of your fifth year you decided you had enough. You were sitting in your Uncles hut with a plate of more or less edible cookies in front of you and a cup of something that was surely supposed to be tea when you finally gathered the courage to say what you had been meaning to say for weeks now. “Uncle Rubeus, can I ask you something?” Hagrid turned to you with his usual smile as he patted fang who was drooling all over his lap where he had laid his head. “Course ya can pumpkin. What’s it about?” “Uhm...well… you know there is this boy that I-“ “Ohhh Ah see,” Hagrid quickly interrupted you before you could even ask the question, “Ya know, usually I’d be more than happy to help ya with every question you have but ah really don’t thin’ I’m the right person for this, I’m sorry.” A little bit disappointed but not really surprised you just sighed and shook your head, telling him that it was okay, before bidding your goodbyes and making your way back to the castle quietly mulling over what exactly your plan b should be now that plan a had failed and you still had no idea what to do with or how to get rid of your stupid crush on Draco.

“You know what I would do if I were you?“ Ginny asked and pointed the end of her quill at you. The both of you were sitting in a corner of the library where you had planned to help her study for her upcoming potions exam, only for her to basically interrogate you until you admitted that you had an unlucky crush, even though she luckily hadn‘t pushed you to tell her who the guy you had a crush on was. “I‘d probably just tell them, I mean what do you have to lose. Either he‘ll say yes and you‘re happy or he says no and you just avoid him like he doesn‘t even exist - which would honestly be the appropriate reaction if he refuses a snack like you. See, no real downside to it.“ “Oh really? Hmmm, I wonder why you haven‘t told Harry how you feel yet then,“ you teased her and tapped your chin. Ginny‘s face immediately started to rival the colour of her hair and the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted reminded you of an overgrown toddler - but in a cute way. “I-I don‘t like Harry, okay? I mean I did when I was like ten because he was famous and I was a child,“ she tried to make sure you really knew how silly she wanted you to believe she thought it was by drawing out the word child for a good few seconds before rolling her eyes and looking to the side, “And anyway, it‘s not like he‘d date his best friend’s sister…“ “Oh Gin,“ you immediately felt bad and grabbed one of her hands with yours, “Have you looked at yourself? You‘re amazing and if Harry doesn‘t see that through his stupid invisible cloak and these glasses than he doesn‘t even deserve you.“ “Even though I admit that yes, I am amazing, this isn‘t the topic that we should be conversing about right now, remember? I think there‘s a certain blond Slytherin that you should be worried about more right now.“ Immediately blood shot right to your cheeks and you quickly looked around to make sure no one could‘ve heard her before leaning forward and hissing: “What? No? I don‘t like Draco? Why would you even think that? I never said that he is the one I have a crush on.“ Ginny just raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, leaning back in her chair and picking the quill back up to play around with while she talked. “Listen honey, I‘m not judging you or anything. Don‘t get me wrong, I still and probably will always think Draco is a major asshole and doesn‘t even deserve to breath the same air as you-“ “He isn‘t that bad…“ “Yes he is, but anyways, no matter what I think of him I also know that you are a clever girl that knows how to protect herself and who knows, maybe you‘d even have a good influence on him.“ Images of you and Draco together with your friend group laughing and having fun crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat fasten involuntarily. “That‘s all great and good, but like I said, I don‘t have a crush on Draco,“ you gave the hope of getting out of this situation with the lie you‘ve been telling yourself for months still intact one last try, but Ginny didn‘t give it the time of day. “Oh please, I see the way you look at him in the dining hall and how your eyes are always on him when he‘s playing quidditch and just now you defended him even though the two of you aren‘t even friends. My love-radar is pinging like crazy around the two of you which is why I, Ginny Wealey also known as the love witch-“ “No one calls you that,“ you interrupted her only to be shushed by an evil glare. “I, Ginny Weasley, will help you in fulfilling your desire and getting together with Draco and I already have the perfect plan.“ “No no no no, please don‘t! Don‘t do this! Ginny no!“ you tried to make your point clear but she was already cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to leave. “Don‘t worry oh sweet Y/N, the next time we‘ll talk everything will be set in motion,“ she winked before dashing off leaving you standing in her figurative dust with your mouth agape for a few seconds before you let your head sink onto the table. This would definitely take an interesting turn…

After that you definitely started to actively avoid Draco which was - surprisingly enough - not as easy as you thought. Somehow he was almost always at least in your near vicinity. Besides the obvious factors of class (where you tried to focus on working and on praying whatever Ginny had planned wouldn‘t happen) and when you were eating in the great hall (where you had resorted to sitting at the very end of the table as far away from him as possible) he seemed to also be there in your free time. You were relaxing in the common room? He was there reading a book. You were outside with Harry and co.? Guess who’s coming their way to insult them (while not saying a single bad thing about you). By now there were just about three places where you were sure that he wouldn’t be able to pop up at any given moment. Your room, the bathroom and the potions classroom on Wednesday and Friday afternoon when class has already ended. After Snape had realized that he had some real potions-potential sitting in front of him he offered you extra credit as some sort of teaching assistant which basically meant that you helped him prepare lessons, helped him grade the first to third years tests and that you cleaned up and organized the potions classroom twice a week. Now usually, knowing that you were more than capable of handling the potions and ingredients standing around on your own after having seen you do it for a few months, you‘d be alone while you cleaned up except for the occasional visit of your professor to tell you which ingredients you should put on the students desks for the next class, but for some reason the next Friday - three days after Ginny had made her promise to you - the door already stood open and you could hear Professor Snape talking to someone. “I really expected better of you, your action is the reasons Slytherin has lost 50 housepoints and I hope you know that it is on you to gain them back, no matter your status,“ Snape‘s voice carried to where you stood and you wondered who the student was if Snape went so easy on them with his lecture. Usually you‘d be afraid for your life after losing even ten house points so getting such a calm reaction for 50 must‘ve really meant something. Your questions about the identity of the student were answered when you entered the dungeon room and immediately felt yourself freeze. Of course not even you (time dependent) sanctuary was safe anymore. Of course Draco just had to stand there and look at you without any identifiable emotion in his gaze. “Ah, Miss Hagrid, right on time as always,“ Snape nodded after he also noticed you and you felt slightly more at ease knowing that with him there nothing could really happen. “Should I come back later?” you asked politely, not sure if you had interrupted something. “No, you may stay. Mister Malfoy over here has got himself caught trying to sabotage McGonagall class, a childish act which I would’ve expected of the Weasleys but really not from you. As a punishment he will be the one to clean the potions classroom bi-weekly from now on until he has regained the house points lost. You’ll supervise him.” “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand.” “Malfoy will do all the cleaning but since he has no experience with it I can’t just leave him alone so, since you’d be here anyway, you can watch him and make sure that everything goes orderly.“ It wasn‘t really a question as much as a command, something that you were used to from Snape, so you just nodded and bid him goodbye as he went to his office, leaving you and Draco behind. By now you had seen through what was happening. This was Ginny‘s plan. Somehow she must‘ve managed to blame Malfoy for the prank on McGonagall - something rather extreme given the taken house points- hoping (or somehow knowing) that his punishment would force you to spend at least an hour with him alone in a dimmed room twice a week. Inwardly you cursed your friend, while outwardly you tried everything to avoid directly looking at Draco as you explained his tasks to him before you sat down at your usual place and pulled out a book really hoping you could get him to not talk to you that way. Either your plan was working great or Draco just really didn‘t care for you, because an hour later you still hadn‘t exchanged any words, instead he dutifully, but slightly pouting, had done his job while you shot him the occasional glance to make sure he was doing it correctly. “I think that was all, you should be good to go now,“ you told him with a small smile, relieved that you were finally free to leave the room and with that the tension that had built up inside you as a mix of nervousness and fear. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when a third year came rushing inside with at least twelve books in her arms that almost towered over her which she quickly placed on a table, slightly out of breath. “Professor Snape sent me. He said these have to be sorted and put away.” You could probably feel Draco’s sigh before he had made it and - not really fond of spending more time so frustratingly close to your crush and yet so far - you just nodded and told both of them that you’d take care of it and that they could leave, which both promptly did. You took the books and carried them to the back of the room where a sole, old bookshelf was standing - since the students mostly had their own books - and started putting them away when you heard a sickening crunch before suddenly the shelf including books came crashing down at you and before you could even think to pull out your wand, the world turned black.

“I’m so so so sorry, you were right I shouldn’t have interfered, if I’d just listened to you you wouldn‘t be lying here now,“ Ginny whined from beside your bed where she had been sitting for the past twenty minutes apologizing over and over again and blaming herself for the broken arm, leg and the concussion that had you unable to leave the infirmary for the next three days to a week. “Ginny, how often do I gotta tell you, it isn’t your fault! I would’ve sorted those books in anyways - no matter if you had pulled that prank or not - and it would’ve fallen anyways,” you tried to reassure her and gave her a soft smile. “But-“ “No but, okay? We can’t change the past anyways, and even if we could I wouldn’t because thanks to you, I don’t have to take that stupid DADA test.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work, because soon you and Ginny were back to your usual conversation-style and it relieved you immensely. It made you feel okay again. She was just telling you of a stung Harry had pulled in the Gryffindor Common room when she suddenly paused mid sentence and looked up. You followed her eyes to where they were placed firmly on a certain Platinum blond boy that looked simultaneously like he’d rather be everywhere else and like he was glad to be there, it was a sight to see. “I think I’ll leave for now, I’ll come back later with tons of sweets that Luna and I are going to steal from Harry’s personal stash,” Ginny said goodbye and gave you a wink as she walked away making you torn between wanting to roll your eyes and feeling yourself blush. Unsure of what to do next you motioned to the chair that Ginny had just occupied and Draco seemed to get the hint because he quickly sat down. “Hey-“ “Hi-“ “Sorry, you first.” “No it’s fine, you’re injured, you go first.” “Well, uhm-“ you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, “-I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here I mean, Madame Pomfrey told me you carried me all the way.” You looked away hoping that he wouldn’t see how nervous you were. “You don’t need to thank me, I couldn’t just let you lay there buried under books, your not Granger after all,” he said, seemingly trying to joke but immediately noticed that it was probably not the best thing to say given that you and Hermione were good friends. “Listen, what I came here for,” now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but you were always with Potter or avoiding me or whatever, but after I saw you lying there… I guess I was just worried for you, I really don’t want you to get hurt.” Now that definitely caught your attention. For a second you played with the thought that this could possibly not be Malfoy but just someone else playing him with the help of polyjuice potion because he was definitely not acting like himself, but something in his word convinced you otherwise. “Thanks, I think, but would you mind me asking why? I mean...we’re not really the closest of friends,” you asked him, looking directly into his face to search signs of a possible answer. “Fuck it, I like you, okay? Happy?” You were completely stunned. Stunned, speechless, shocked. In all the time that you had been crushing on him you had never even really considered even the slightest possibility that he could reciprocate your feelings but now here he was telling you straight up. “You-You like me? Like like-like me?” You asked, just really wanting to be sure. There was a hint of nervousness and worry in his eyes, but he hid it behind a wall of annoyance. “You heard me, didn’t you? So, just get it over with, do you like me too or do you not, because if you don’t then I don’t want to waste my time any longer.” This definitely sounded more like the Draco you were used to and you had to giggle a little bit. “Yes, yes I like you too,” you confessed and like it was the most natural thing in the world you moved the uninjured hand over to where he laid on your bed and took it in yours. For the moment, you were caught in the shimmer of happiness and glee at having your crush there with you, definitely something more than your crush, and it would probably take a while until you‘d realize that there were some interesting things to follow, like telling your uncle about this for example...

[mxpseudonym]

Just Good Business III

Pairing: Tommy x Reader

Reader Gender Expression: She/Her pronouns, “wife”

Summary: Reminding Tommy that he didn’t marry a fool was the greatest thing to happen to your bedroom.

Length: 1650 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, sex, hints of rough sex, cursing, and as usual, underlying tones of forced/arranged marriage

A/N: There’s a forehead kiss and a sprinkling of Dom!Tommy in here for your patience! I am pretty sure I’m going to have this be a total of five parts. Part IV may not come right away because I’m in the middle of a WIP though.

Part I | Part II | Part IV

Reminding Tommy that he hadn't married a fool set several things in motion. First and foremost, you and Polly managed to successfully persuade your husband into conducting family business, not that it was hard. You knew London quite well, and one glance at the Eden Club's books had you asking Arthur if he could count to ten. Much of the above-board dealings in London were now your responsibility- properties, charities, and a social life that allowed you to see your friends more often.

Unfortunately, this meant regularly making the trip to Birmingham for the family meetings you'd been avoiding. It wasn't so much the meetings as it was Birmingham itself. One has no great hopes of Birmingham, as they say. However, there was a significant consolation that made it all worth it. 

Tommy Shelby, in action, turned you on. 

Actually, it was one of many things about Tommy that turned you on. With Tommy's guilt out of the way, you saw him around the house more. He came to bed, albeit late, nearly every night, and you got at least two breakfasts out of him a week. Along with finding that Tommy was much funnier than he let on when he wasn't talking about work, you also noticed that you had much in common. Tommy was as stubborn and prideful as you were. After six months, you still credited happenings between you with a desire to conduct good business- and business was excellent. Stubbornness, pride, your appetite for adventure, and Tommy's addiction to risk resulted in one shameless, exciting sex life.

You'd had partners before. Why deny yourself the world's physical pleasures? But while none could keep up with your desire to find and push boundaries, Tommy had mastered it. You thought you'd have to ease him into it, but it really just took you asking, "What are you going to do, Thomas? Spank me?" while bickering to get you on the same page. 

Not that Tommy wasn't enjoying himself as well. He'd met his match in his back talking, neck biting, hair pulling new wife he could hardly bring himself to say no to. What was coming to work late more often or your hands down his trousers while driving the Bentley in the grand scheme of things? 

So at the Birmingham family meetings, there was something about the way he was no-nonsense when he firmly told you where to sit and give updates when asked. If you were both being honest, while you loved taking orders from Tommy in the bedroom sometimes, you were on the fast track to giving them too. For now, you watched with thighs pressed together, and bottom lip pulled between teeth as he commanded the room. 

After Arthur wrapped up the meeting, you'd meant to mingle with your sister in law, but were quickly distracted. Ada didn't need to follow your gaze to know what was stopping you from listening to a word she said. 

"Good god, stop staring at my brother like that," Ada pleaded. You looked at her only long enough to say, 

"I almost wish I could say I was sorry." You had just caught Tommy's eye and smiled. "He can be quite good looking." 

"Ugh, okay, he's coming over here. I'm going to find Finn," Ada scoffed, then all but ran away only to have Tommy replace her.  

"Can I help you?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice. You chuckled and looked up at him.  

"You're already spoiling me, Mr. Shelby. What more could I ask for?" 

"I'm sure you have a list," Tommy said. You plucked his cigarette from between his fingers and took a pull.  

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Should I make you beg for it?" 

"I don't beg," you said, defiant as ever. Tommy rolled his eyes but moved closer. You could feel the warmth of his wool suit, and it matched the heat that was rising to your cheeks. 

"Then what do you call what you were doing the other day in my office?" Tommy asked. You thought for a moment then smirked. 

"Minding my manners. Please and thank you, Sir," you said, making him laugh. 

"Oi, stop flirting on come on," John yelled in partial disgust from where the family was gathering near the door. 

"Yeah, yeah, we're coming," you shooed him. You gave Tommy a knowing look as you grabbed your bag to join the group at the Garrison. 

"Gonna tell me not to get any ideas?" He asked. 

"Of course not. Get as many ideas as you can from here to that pub." You pointed a stern finger at him. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Tommy had long given up trying to get a grasp on what to expect from you. 

"God only knows what's going on up there," he'd say while tapping your temple. 

But nothing surprised him more than your absolute willingness to have him any time, anywhere. 

"Skirts hike up for a reason, Thomas," You once told him in the stables. Tommy had yet to find a good enough argument against that, so here you were, shushing him through breathy laughs as he almost tumbled into you. 

It was a busy night at the Garrison, and it wasn't hard to leave your group to find the back room. Now you were pressed up against a shelf that wasn't nearly sturdy enough. Tommy's pants were unbuckled in a hasty moment, and your knickers were pulled aside, and you were both stifling your moans. 

"Oh god, fuck, Tommy, how do you always feel so good?" You asked, your grip already in his hair. He groaned at the question and thrust deeper.  

"You're the one always warm and wet for me, aren't you?" He squeezed the flesh of your bottom, making you moan. He quickly relocated you further into the dark and onto a crate. "Such a naughty little thing I've got on my hands."  

"Just the way you like it." You bit his ear as you played with fire. His thrusts got hard and deep, earning more high pitched moans from you until he pressed a hand over your mouth. He kept his grip firm, just how you liked and spoke in your ear. 

"I'm giving you what you asked for with all of these people just out there. Do you want them to hear you?" He leaned back to see you nod. Of course, you did. Tommy shook his head as he chuckled. By the sound of your yearning moan, he just knew you were pouting beneath his palm.

"I know love, but when we get home, you can be as loud as you want. You can let the maids hear you, what was it? Minding your manners for me. How's that sound?" You accepted his counteroffer with a nod and was rewarded with Tommy moving his hand. He relished in the smeared lipstick that was now on your chin before adjusting his grip on you. 

"Now, be good, and stay quiet for me." 

Tommy had to give you credit for carrying out your version of quiet. You forfeited your usual words of encouragement and panted hotly in his ears, a whimper or moan periodically coming forth.  

"Tom," You pleaded his name under your breath. His grip tightened around your waist, and you knew it would bruise, which only shoved you that much closer to the edge.  

"That's a good girl," he praised you, knowing what it did to you. In this case, it made your thighs tighten around him. "So good, you can tell me where you want it. Should I make you walk around with me all over your face?" 

He felt you shiver and swallow a moan that came out like a sob. His thumb reached between them, and it only took a few circles of your clit to send you over. 

"Oh fuck," You bucked against him as you came. Tommy's eyes squeezed close while you kissed his neck. It was truly incredible, you had to admit. You knew he was close and you had to decide. "In me."

"In you?" He repeated, not fully registering anything as he got closer. 

"I want you in me, Tom. Please," you said again. You kissed him, then pulled back to look in his eyes. "I'm begging you." 

You loved watching him come undone. Even in the low light, you took in his parted lips, creased brow, and flushed cheeks. He rested his forehead against yours for a moment before you pulled away and began putting yourselves back together.  

"I'm excited to go home if you keep your word," you said, leaning against the crate while Tommy pulled out a cigarette. 

You quietly smoked and thought about how strange this was. Before it was sprung on you, being married was something you hadn't expected anytime soon. Being married to someone you actually enjoyed was a fate every woman you knew hoped for but knew not to anticipate. And here you were with both a marriage and an enjoyable husband. 

"What's wrong?" Tommy asked, tossing away his cigarette. He brought his hand up to stroke your cheek, but you caught it and observed the silver band around his finger instead, running your thumb over the metal. 

"Do you like this?" Your eyes lifted to meet his. "The ring?" 

The ring, the marriage, what was the difference? He smirked then turned his hand, interlacing your fingers. 

"So much that I think there must have been a mix up of fortune. A better man should have it, maybe." He said, then kissed your forehead and started towards the door. "Come now, I think I'll let you walk around with me dripping out of you for at least a half-hour."

"I may just have to give you a proper thank you on the ride home then, Sir." 

Tommy expertly ignored questions about his whereabouts from his brothers and knowing looks from his sister, all while holding your hand. You smiled to yourself and thought, 

I have a crush on you, Tommy Shelby. 

--

Tommy Tag List: @soleil-dor; @amysteryspot​

JGB Series Tag List: @biba3434

[marvel-ousnesss]

Hand in Hand

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry the night of the Brits.

word count: 2806

masterlist 

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so sorry for any typos or mistakes. Lots of love 💜💜💜

“Y/N, Y/N!”

You approached the source of the storm of voices with a wide grin on your face. You still couldn't hide the thrill that your fans brought you, nor you could stop yourself from just hanging with them for a bit. You ambled through the red carpet exchanging smiles and posing for selfies until you reached the end of the path.

When you stepped inside, you greeted a few other people who had arrived at the event and went to freshen up a bit so you could pose for some photos.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and grinned widely. You felt like the girl singing covers in her room, yet here you were, attending your first-ever music awards as a nominee —with one of the best albums of the year under your arm.

As you made your way back from the restroom, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, they spoke.

"Well hey, fancy seeing you here.” Harry's voice was raspy, tinted with mischief.

You stopped, turned toward him with an amused half-smile.

"Right back at you,” you joked back. “Do you come here often?"

He exhaled a fruity laugh and smiled at you, finally allowing his gaze to drift down onto your figure and then back to up to meet your own. "You look… wow."

He made you blush with almost no effort but you were quick to cover it up, doing your best to get rid of the tension that seemed to constantly glide around the two of you.

"Well, don't you look 'wow' yourself", you smirked.

It had been going on for a few months now; flirting here and there, hanging out at parties, and even a few dates which you had tried to keep out of the spotlight. Nevertheless, headlines hadn't stopped gushing on about 'the newest, freshest face of the industry' and the 'beloved, eclectic Harry Styles.'

Looping your arm around his you subtly prompted him to continue walking toward the awaiting cameras, where you were headed before bumping into him. He obliged, smoothly guiding you through the crowd of crew members, press, and artists.

After a moment of hesitation, his hand traveled to the small of your back. When you felt his tender fingers against the silk of your gown, you lifted your head to look at him.

"So, what’s the game-plan for tonight?”

“Y’know how ‘t goes,” he explained. “Step one: performance, step two: get hold of all the tiny statues, step three: world domination.”

You laughed, but insisted, “really, how’re you doing; ready?”

Even if he seemed to be perfectly collected, you knew that tonight’s show had his head spinning. This was gonna be his first live performance of the year, and, to be honest, you thought it was admirable that he decided to go through with it after what had happened that weekend.

“‘m just a mess of nerves and excitement right now. Tonight needs to be brilliant.”

He didn’t wanna talk about Caroline’s death and you were ok with it, so you didn’t push on the topic.

“I’m sure it’ll be. The whole album’s just amazing; and, you know, the guy who sings it isn’t that bad either.”

He chuckled lightly, then sighed, “just hope I make it justice.”

You smiled, “you will.”

That’s when you found yourselves between the gray wall upholstered with logos and brand names and the army of photographers equipped with cameras of all sizes.

You both faced them and quickly displayed your best angles.

Offering a smirk as he fixed the collar of his blazer, Harry asked, “what ‘bout you, eyes on the prize, I assume?”

You turned around with grace, so that the back of your outfit was visible, then faced the cameras over your shoulder.

“Well, yeah,” you sighed dramatically. “But, to be frank, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep them there with you looking so dashingly handsome.”

His eyes widened for a second and he let out a ringing laugh, his cheeks reddening slightly. It was truly a beautiful sight. However, no longer than a moment later, he concealed the gentle blush with a snort and a devious grin, which he directed at the cameras.

“I know ’m irresistible, love,” he smirked. “And I hate to tell you this, but I‘m ‘a be professional tonight, no funny business.” His tone was dripping with feigned seriousness.

"Your loss," you flipped your hair.

_______

You guided Y/F/N to the table where your team had been placed. Being honest, she was thrilled to be there with you, but also quite surprised that you had honored the promise you both made back in middle school. When you had first told her about your YouTube channel —after a fair amount of bugging on her part—, she had shown complete support and joked about being your date to the met gala. But, as the met was still clearly out of your league and you had missed the Grammys because of your mom’s birthday, here you were.

She already knew your manager so you introduced her to the rest of them before taking a seat, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening.

The first few minutes were full of laughter and conversation. When the event officially began, you watched the presentations with a gaping mouth and cheered hastily when every award was presented.

Before you knew, it was already time for Harry’s performance. You bit the inside of your lip when he climbed upstage, effortlessly rocking a lace jumpsuit that gave a deific, but simple air to him.

“Can’t believe you turned that down to bring me,” your friend whispered to you.

“Seriously?, my first ever-awards were something I needed to share with you, dork.”

“Awww, friend.”

“Aww”, you mocked, then hit her shoulder lightly. “Shush, let me listen.”

Everything happening on stage was truly breathtaking. You mouthed the lyrics as your gaze followed his every move. His eyes were full of stars and his voice was so flooded with emotion that it made chills run down your spine.

“I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth if he ever fucks up.”

Those words somewhat pulled you out of your daze-like state. Part of you wanted to ask her what she meant, but it was no use. For her, you were an open book, so you didn’t even try to hide how bad you had fallen.

Only with a glance your way, Y/F/N managed to catch the way in which your eyes twinkled when you looked at him and the way you blushed ever so slightly when she brought him up.

You tried to conceal the impact of her words with a sip of your drink, to which she responded with a smug wink.

The following half an hour or so went by uneventful. You nearly fainted when Lizzo performed, and it didn’t get better when you discovered she was but a few tables away from you, next to where Harry had been placed. A couple of categories where presented and the moment you dreaded the most arrived.

Celeste was flawless on stage, and you couldn’t be happier for her. Yet, as you listened to her song, your brows were glued in a frown and the corners of your mouth seemed to weigh a ton. It was time for the rising star award, and then came international female solo —to which you had been nominated.

You turned your head to the side when you heard the scratching of a chair against the floor, and offered a quivering smile to Harry, who had not so discreetly sneaked to your table.

“Hey,” he mumbled, taking hold of one of your hands under the table.

“Hey.”

Celeste’s speech, which ended before you would’ve wanted, was followed by Sporty’s introduction to your category. You tried to stay positive as the nominees were announced.

Y/F/N managed to dodge Harry and get her hand on your shoulder. She gave him an awkward attempt of a smile, then looked at you. “You got this.”

You nodded at her words but, not so deep down, you knew this wasn’t gonna be your year.

“I’m so excited, they’re all so brilliant,” Sporty began.

Harry’s grip tightened on your hand while she opened the envelope, and you barely heard him mumble, “come on.”

That’s when the winner was announced. Billie’s name echoed through the speakers across the place and your face fell for a few seconds.

You were quick to recover and clapped just as eagerly as you had for the rest of the winners, but the smile plastered on your face quivered a bit as you swallowed a wave of disappointment.

That changed when she got to the stage, that’s when utter pride kicked in. While Billie said a few words in acceptance of the award, Jack Whitehall made his way to the table and squeezed a chair between you and Harry. You let out a snicker as he clumsily tried to sit comfortably, then you moved a bit back.

He was given his cue by the camera guy and began.

“Congratulations, to Billie Eilish! Now, I’m just so excited to be here with this power couple who, for some reason, are not officially a couple yet.”

"Glad to have you."

His eyes drifted between the two of you, then settled on Harry. “Harold, you’ve been coming to the brits for 10 years. Not to make you feel old.” Then he looked at you. “Y/N, on the other hand, this is your very first time here.”

"Yup," you chuckled. "Total newbie."

“Sorry for the stock question, but how’s it feeling so far? Kidding, we don’t wanna talk about that, do we? I bet you’ve already got at least five rehearsed versions of the answer to that question.”

You snorted.

“Let’s get to the point here.“ Jack leaned closer to the table, to which you responded by mimicking his posture. “Ever since the ‘Up All Night’ era, when Harold here was just a lad with his little bow tie and a mop on his hair, he’s been a ladies man.

Harry scoffed and waved his hand dismissively.

"And, as such, he can only be paired to someone like you,“ he pointed his finger at you in mock accusation, “my dear Y/N, who has been leaving a fair share of lads and ladies’ hearts broken —including my own— ever since your very flare-up on that strange platform which somehow houses both Rebecca Black’s ‘Friday’ and your phenomenal album ‘Tears of Blade’. However, putting my broken heart aside, I wanna Know… you didn’t come as each other’s date, why’s that?"

Harry took a sip of his drink, "I tried, but she turned me down."

Jack faked shock. "Should I get my hopes up then?"

"Oh no, none of that."You shook your head. "I just brought a friend tonight."

His mouth opened in realization, then he smirked, wiggling his brows. "Not to intrude, but… a special friend of yours or a friend friend."

You threw your head back, laughing, then said, "Jack, this is Y/F/N. Y/F/N, Jack."

"Hi." She stretched out her hand, which the host gladly took.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he gushed.

——————————

You struggled to stay awake in the car to your place, your eyelids didn’t seem to be obeying you anymore and your head was feeling too heavy for you to lift. Harry chuckled when he looked at you, bringing you closer to him so you could use him as a pillow. For the rest of the ride, he quietly hummed to the music playing and did what he could to ignore the feeling of numbness that was beginning to invade his arm.

You woke up when the car stopped and raised your head, scanning your surroundings. When your gaze met Harry’s, you smiled. He grabbed your purse and helped you out of the car, then you both took the lift to your apartment.

"Make yourself at home," you said, taking off your coat and shoes.

"Thanks, love." He hanged his blazer on the rack by the door, together with his vest and the purple pashmina that adorned his neck.

After changing into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, you made your way to the living room and found Harry, neck deep into your fridge. That's when you recalled you hadn't done any grocery shopping.

"Tell me if you find something, my fridge's just sad to even look at," you jested, standing behind him.

"S'not that bad. I mean, carrots, beer, tortillas, we could do wonders out of this," he scoffed, still looking for something worth looting.

After no avail, he closed the door.

"Or… we could order pizza."

He chortled, "Y/N/N, we ate like an hour ago."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

He sighed, letting himself fall to the couch in fake exasperation. "Woman, you’re a bad influence." Now, that was a yes.

You giggled when he ended up sitting on the floor, then taunted, "worried your Gucci suits won’t fit you anymore?"

"Ha-ha very funny." Harry settled on the floor, grabbing one of the decorative pillows.

"C’ mere," he patted the spot beside him.

"The couch’s right there."

"So?"

"So?" you mocked, "you come here." You clumsily sat on the couch, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the floor. You let out a squeal but, taking advantage of the boost he had given you, managed to place yourself on top of him, caging his body between yours and the couch.

You were about to gloat, but he placed a hand on your waist and used the weight of his body to push you back, turning the cards.

"You got me where you want me, what are you gonna do?" When you spoke, your voice came out quieter than intended.

Harry's hand found the hem of your shirt and he began tugging it faintly, brushing your skin ever so slightly. He looked at your lips for a moment, then your eyes.

"'Ve got a few ideas-" his words were drowned by the doorbell ringing.

"Fuck," he groaned, head burying in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled around his silky locks, then you mumbled, "I have to get up, you know."

He grumbled something else, but you pushed him off you.

You received the pizza and locked the door, proceeding to put the cardboard box on the marble counter. As you cut the tape with a small knife, Harry joined you in the kitchen. Stepping behind you, he placed his hands on your sides and a kiss on the line where your neck met your shoulder.

"Patience is a virtue, Harold," you teased.

"Don't care."He rested his head on your shoulder but his hands carried on with the feathery strokes.

Just then, you opened the box and swiftly turned around, giving him a quick peck before stepping out of his grasp.

"Help yourself," you instructed while grabbing two beers from the fridge.

After giving him one, you took hold of a slice and walked toward your previous spot on the living room floor. "Don’t know bout you, but I’m starving."

Harry followed with the box in hand, after settling once again, he placed the box between the two of you and grabbed the remote control.

You shook your head and scoffed, "all that wailing and you're just as hungry as I am."

"Not my fault that the bloody doorbell killed the mood." He took another bite.

Three beers per head later, as the credits of Dirty Dancing rolled up the screen, the pizza had been discarded long ago. You hummed to the credits song as your head rested on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands playing with your hair.

"Thanks for tonight," he mused.

"What d'you mean?" You adjusted yourself so that you were looking up at him.

"Just, you know, "he hesitated, finding the words. "You made sure it was a great night."

Your mouth opened in realization before you smiled, lifting one of your hands to his cheek. “That's what 'm here for." Then you sat up, and joked, "besides, 's only fair to admit that, for a business night, it was fun."

"You break my heart, love" he sighed, "all your business partners get after parties like tonight’s?"

"Nah," you avowed, "just the cute ones."

"I'm relieved, then." He pulled you to him by the waist.

You beamed, throwing your head back, "you're unbelievable."

When you straightened up, after your laugh died down, his gaze found your lips once more and he leaned in. "Can I kiss you?"

Your hands moved up to the back of his neck and, without a word, you pressed your lips to his.

Requests open!

[arcturusreads]

New Beginnings - Merhayes

Another one that was written pre S17, before Scout was born and how I think Cormac would have asked Meredith out.

Meredith ran down the hospital corridors before finally getting to the maternity ward and stopped in front of the door that she had been looking for. Gently knocking, she popped her head around.

"Hey..." she whispered tentatively.

She was greeted by two grinning and tired faces. "Mere, come in." Amelia sounded exhausted but there was pure joy in her face.

"I hope you don't mind but I came as soon as you text." Meredith didn't want to impose, she knew what those first few hours... days... were like after birth.

"The whole point in me texting you was for you to get your butt down here! I want you to meet your niece!" If it wouldn't have caused her pain, Amelia would've been bouncing up and down on the bed.

"It's a girl!?" Mere yelled in a whisper, eyes immediately going to the small bundle that Link was lovingly cradling.

"Yeah, a gorgeous little girl, coming in at seven pounds!" The pride in Link's voice was obvious and it made Meredith smile even more. He was taking to being a father like a duck to water and that little girl already had him wrapped around her little finger. There was no doubt about that.

"Do you want to hold her?" Amelia asked.

"Please!" Meredith placed herself down in the chair as Link carefully placed the baby into her arms.

The little girl looked so cosy in her swaddled state, eyes closed and mouth opening and closing to form a small "o". Meredith entire world, at that moment, was consumed with the new life that she held. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her niece, she didn't want to. It had been a while since she had held a baby, that wasn't a patient, in her arms.

"Meet Alina Shepard-Lincoln." Link's awestruck voice whispered, his gaze still on his daughter.

Meredith couldn't help but smirk, "That last name is a bit of a mouthful."

Amelia just rolled her eyes and defended their choice, "It saved on the arguments!"

"Well, I happen to think that Alina is a very pretty name for a very smart little lady!" Meredith cooed at the baby.

"I'm glad to hear it, wouldn't want her godmother hating her name." Amelia laughed.

Meredith's head shot up and looked between Link and Amelia. "Wait- what?"

Link had taken a seat next to Amelia bed, holding her hand. "We were going to ask..."

But he was cut off by Amelia, "Look, we're not religious or anything so it's not like there'll be a christening. So, maybe the term godmother is a little redundant here. But the 'keeper of child in case of any mishaps' doesn't flow as well, you know? But if you prefer that title we could go with that-"

"Babbling!" Link and Meredith said at the same time, laughing.

"Right, sorry!" Amelia shook her head before getting back on track. "I'm blaming baby brain. But Link and I were thinking, the world is a scary place. The three of us know that and if anything were to ever happen to me and Link we would want to know that Alina was with someone we could trust to love her and raise her to be a strong, fearless woman. And you were the first person we both thought of." Tears were brimming in Amelia's eyes as she spoke.

Meredith felt something tightening in her chest as Amelia spoke. "I- are you sure? I mean I did run off with my two kids whilst pregnant when Derek died."

Amelia shrugged, "Okay, that definitely wasn't your finest moment..."

This time it was Link who cut in, "But you've had a million brilliant moments. Not just as a surgeon but as a mother."

"This is what we both want," Amelia gave Link's hand a squeeze. "As long as you're okay with that."

A grin was on Meredith's face, "I would love that."

Amelia let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good because I don't think anyone would cope with being second best if you said no."

Meredith let out a hearty laugh which caused Alina to stir so Meredith rocked her gently on her shoulder whilst walking her around the room. Her goddaughter. Carefully she handed Alina back to her father who resumed the walking whilst Meredith sat next to Amelia.

"Derek would be so proud of you right now." Meredith had taken Amelia's hand, holding it tight.

"You think so?"

"Oh, I know so. He would have spoilt that little girl so much." They both laughed as they remembered how Derek was around his own daughter and other nieces.

"You know, he would have been proud of you too, Mere." Meredith opened her mouth to protest but Amelia carried on. "You've been raising three amazing kids as a single mom, you're making strides in your field and you're carrying on in your life. He wants to see you happy, Mere. Even if that was with a certain gorgeous, Irish Chief of Paediatrics."

Meredith couldn't help but roll her eyes at that last part. "That sounds awfully specific."

"Hmm, does it? Good thing I know where to find one, don't you think?" The smug look on Amelia's face was beginning to irk Meredith a little.

"Amelia, you just gave birth. Do you not think it's a bit early to be playing matchmaker." Meredith didn't know how Amelia even had the capacity to think about anything else right now. After both of her births, all Meredith had wanted to do was to sleep and not have to think about anything other than keeping her child alive.

"She's got a point, Grey," Link butted in as she placed Alina down in her plastic cot and sat on the end of the bed by Amelia's legs.

"Really? You're in on this, too?" Meredith raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, I'm just saying, I've seen the way he looks at you."

Meredith was getting a little flustered now. "He doesn't look at me like anything!"

"Suuuure he doesn't!" Amelia sarcastic tone was not appreciated by her sister. "Anytime you're around and he's in the same room his eyes won't leave you. He's always watching you!"

"Oh, because that's not creepy at all. Hayes constantly watching me and plotting to kill me." Meredith rolled her eyes, why would him watching her like a hawk be an indication of him liking her.

Amelia slapped Meredith's arm. "Ow!" She rubbed the spot.

"Oh, shut up. I didn't even hit that hard! And you know what I mean!"

"Why are we discussing this? Shouldn't we be discussing baby stuff?" Meredith tried her best to deflect the conversation away from Cormac Hayes.

"Eh, everyone is going to want to take about baby stuff! I'm fed up just thinking about it. I want to talk about you and Hayes!"

"There is no me and Hayes!"

"Not yet but there could be if you give him a chance," Amelia sang.

Meredith sighed, "Amelia..."

"You said that you and DeLuca were history, right?"

"I mean, yeah..."

Amelia probed, "Do you still want to be with him?"

"No, definitely not. After everything that's happened... I don't think either of us wants that." Meredith shook her head. Whatever she and Andrew had was definitely in the past, it wasn't something that she wanted to revisit.

Amelia nodded, "Okay, good. So, what's stopping you?"

"He just thinks of me as a friend." Meredith wasn't sure how many times she was going to have to keep bringing that point up but Amelia didn't seem to understand.

"But you don't?" Link rejoined the conversation which made Meredith shake her head. Why the hell was she being ambushed?

"I never said that."

"But do you think of him as just a friend?" Amelia was not planning on letting go of this until she got a satisfactory answer.

"I mean, I'd be blind if I didn't think he was good looking..."

"See!? Plus, he was a gift," Amelia reminded her with a smirk.

Confusion was written across Links face. "What?"

Amelia waved her hand behind her to shush him. "I'll explain later." Her full attention was back on Meredith. "You guys would make an incredibly hot couple. What's stopping you?"

Before Meredith could even open her mouth Amelia started again. "Absolutely nothing, now go!"

"You're kicking me out?" Meredith lifted a brow.

"Don't make me call security!"

"I own the hospital!"

"Link!"

"Alright, fine I'm going!" Meredith walked over to where Alina lay, blissfully unaware of the antics going on around her. "She's crazy but your mom is a good one." She whispered.

"Hey, I heard that!" Amelia called at Meredith's back as she departed the room.

On her way to the elevator, she passed the nursery, Cormac standing outside the window in a pink apron. Wincing, Meredith hoped she could get past undetected. After the conversation she had with Amelia just now, talking to him would be a little awkward and she couldn't be dealing with that. And if word got back to Amelia that they had both spoken, then Meredith would not hear the end of it. But going past the nursery was the quickest way to the elevators and she could not be bothered to traipse her way around the entire ward just to avoid one man. He did seem quite engrossed in whatever was on the chart he was looking. It should be fine, she would just quietly creep past. No one would know, Hayes wouldn't see her. Life would be great, no awkward conversations, everything is all good...

"Grey, what are you doing up here?"

"Damnit" Meredith whispered under her breathe. Why the hell did he need to look up then!?

Awkwardly she walked closer to Cormac, knowing it would just look weird if she kept three feet of distance between them. To avoid his gaze she looked into the nursery, full of babbling, healthy babies. "Uh, hi, Hayes."

A lopsided smile graced Cormac's face as he watched her looking at the newborns. "You know, I've been working with you for months and I don't think I've ever heard you call me by my first name."

"I could say the same for you," Meredith still hadn't dared to look at his face.

"Touche... well, maybe it's something that we should both try then, Meredith."

Meredith shut her eyes, the way he said her name made butterflies erupt in her stomach. Why was she feeling like a fifteen-year-old again? This was stupid, she was a grown woman, with three kids and a big job. She could not be going crazy just because a hot guy had said her name. She cleared her throat, "Cormac."

"Wasn't so bad now, was it?" He grinned.

Meredith finally looked at him and gave him a sarcastic smile. The awkwardness and tension knotted in her stomach were beginning to ease away. "Still with the jokes I see?"

"What can I say, if it paid better I would be a comedian."

Meredith laughed in spite of herself, which made Cormac's smile even wider. She didn't seem to laugh much around the hospital, he knew that they were around dying people but still. It felt as if she was holding something back but when she laughed, she seemed free. It bought along a warm feeling for Cormac, one that he hadn't felt since his wife had passed away. It was a feeling that he had battled with. He had felt guilty when it had first happened, as though he was betraying his wife. But she had wanted so badly for him to move on after she had left. Cormac hadn't thought that it would be possible to find that kind of love again, not that he loved Meredith but he could see things going somewhere. If he thought she even felt the same way.

"So, what are you doing around these parts then?" He bought the conversation back to his original question. Hayes was pretty on top of his department and he was sure that no one had pages for a consult from General recently.

"Oh, Amelia had the baby and she texted me to come and meet my niece."

Cormac's eyebrows raised in joy, "Shepard had her baby?"

Meredith nodded, "Yeah, a little girl, her name's Alina."

"Well, I'll make sure to do a round of the little on then and make her my patient."

"I'm sure that Amelia would love that."

Cormac took a deep breath and followed Meredith's gaze to the babies. It was now or never. He was only going to have the courage to do this once and if he chickened out now he wasn't sure if he would be able to ask her this again. "Babies..." He started with a long pause.

Meredith just stared at him curiously, waiting for him to continue. Cormac wanted to hit his head against the windows. Babies. Why would he start off like that? And then not say anything else? She was going to end up thinking that he was a right weirdo. And she was going to think that he was even weirder because he was leaving this gap longer and longer. Damnit, he really needed to say something.

"They, uh, make you think of new beginnings, don't they?" Cormac blurted it out as quickly as he could and Meredith wasn't sure whether she was meant to agree or whether he was going to continue talking. Thankfully, Cormac carried on. "It just gives you hope... that things will be okay."

Meredith's eyes were now locked on Cormac's profile. How hadn't she realised how attractive he looked from this side. The stubble... his nose... okay, yeah, maybe he did like him, a tiny bit.

"Look, Meredith," Cormac turned his body so that he was fully facing Meredith. "I've been wanting to ask you if you wanted to go out for a drink sometime..."

Meredith looked around, "Who? Me?" She asked, pointing at herself, a mischievous smile on her.

"Oh haha, Grey, yes, you."

"Hmmm..." Meredith put her hands in her white lab coat, rocking back and forth on her heels. She may as well have some fun with this since she knew what her final answer was going to end up being. "Yeah, what's a drink between friends, right?"

Cormac winced comically, "Oh, Grey, come on. You're killing me here!"

"I have no idea what you're on about." She looked around innocently.

"I'm sure you don't. Fine!" Cormac suddenly got down on one knee just as there were a gaggle of doctors and nurses on their way past the pair. They all came to a halt when they saw Cormac on the floor.

"Cormac, what the hell are you doing." Meredith had crouched a little and was yelling at him as quietly as she could.

"Meredith Grey!" His thick Irish accent projected all the way down the hall. "Will you please allow me to take you on a date?"

At this point, Meredith had gone bright red and could feel herself slowly dying from embarrassment. She began to tug on Cormac's arm trying to get him to stand up whilst straining a smile to their audience in the hopes that they would leave. "Hayes, can you please get the hell up?" She whispered through gritted teeth.

"Nope. Not until you give me an answer."

"Fine!" Meredith finally relented, annoyed that her plan had completely backfired on her. This was going to be around the hospital within the next hour and she knew that her sisters were never going to let her live this down.

"I'm sorry, Meredith, I couldn't hear you." Cormac looked up at her grinning, her tugging not even having the slightest effect in moving him from the floor.

Grumbling under her breath, Meredith knew that there was only one way that she would be able to put an end to her embarrassment right now. "Yes, I'll go on a date with you," she said as loudly as she was able to bring herself to.

Finally, Cormac stood up, turning to the audience and giving them a huge grin as they all clapped and cheered. When he turned back to Meredith, she was rolling her eyes but ultimately glad that the group seemed to be dispersing now that they had gotten what they wanted.

"I hope you're happy." She playfully hit him on his chest.

"Over the moon, I'll have you know." They both wore matching grins on their faces until Meredith's pager went off.

"I'm sorry, I'm needed in the pit."

Cormac just shook his head, "Go, I'll catch up with you later."

Meredith sent him an apologetic smile before running down the corridor, Cormac watching her retreating figure with her lab coat flying behind her. He couldn't help but think how lucky he was that he had managed to get a date with Meredith Grey.

[annerbhp]

Lucky

- part one - part two - part three - part four - part five -

Part Six

Harry watches Snape lead Malfoy out of the party, his eyes narrowing.

What the hell is Malfoy doing skulking around the party? He isn’t even dressed for a party, and Harry doesn’t believe for a second that he was just trying to sneak in. Malfoy is glaring daggers at Snape, and Harry doesn’t even think twice about following, absently setting the two goblets in his hands down on a table.

This could be his chance to finally find out exactly what is going on, and what Snape has to do with it. To prove he isn’t imagining all of this.

He ignores one of Slughorn’s guests trying to catch his attention, pausing in the hall outside as he tries to figure out which direction they’ve gone in. He heads down one way before deciding he must have chosen wrong, doubling back at a fast clip. He slips his hand down into his pocket, groping for his invisibility cloak and pulling it free.

Before he can flip it up over his head, he hears a voice from behind him.

“Going somewhere?”

Harry stumbles to a stop, turning towards the entrance to Slughorn’s rooms. Ginny stands there, still looking more beautiful than anyone has a right, only now there is something not quite right about the way she’s holding her body.

Shit. Ginny. His date. How could he have possibly forgotten?

“No,” he says, despite how blatantly untrue that clearly is.

“Right,” she says, her face impassive, none of the warmth that had been there earlier. But there’s also something in her eyes that makes his gut burn.

“I just need to do something really fast,” he says, the excuse feeling weak and stupid the second he says it.

“Just going to the loo, huh?” she asks, lips twisting. It’s clear she knows exactly what he’s doing out here. She would have seen Malfoy like everyone else. Besides, one hardly needs an invisibility cloak for peeing.

“I’ll come back,” he says, furiously torn between losing Malfoy and pissing Ginny off. If it weren’t so important, he’d never…

“Don’t strain yourself on my account,” she says, voice clipped and icy. She turns, but rather than walking back towards the party, she heads down the hall, like maybe she’s leaving.

Shit, shit, shit, Harry thinks, glancing down in the opposite direction.

On impulse, he darts forward, grabbing Ginny’s hand, and setting back down the hallway with her in tow.

She protests, but he shushes her, nearly breaking into a run, trying to be as quiet as possible. Ginny is clearly unhappy, but he also trusts she won’t blow their cover when they aren’t supposed to be out here and might get detention for it. No, she’ll save yelling and hexing him for later.

They pass by a row of classrooms, Harry pausing briefly to listen outside each. Just as he’s starting to get desperate, he pauses outside the last door in the hallway, catching Snape and Malfoy’s voices, pressing his ear against the wood, able to hear everything they are saying.

He looks at Ginny, still standing in the middle of the hall. He waves her closer, lifting the invisibility cloak.

For a second he thinks she will refuse, her jaw set, but then she’s crouching down next to him, her ear pressing to the door.

He flips the cloak over the two of them, and settles in to listen, his face just a few inches from Ginny’s.

“…cannot afford to make mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled—” Snape is saying.

Harry presses his ear closer.

*     *     *

Ginny’s shoe is cutting into her heel in a highly unpleasant way as she crouches next to Harry, listening to Snape admit to things like Unbreakable Vows and Malfoy talking about serving his master. It’s a lot, and Ginny’s barely taking it in at the moment, to be honest, too caught up in the stupid, stupid truth she should have seen from the start.

Which is only harder to deal with, Harry’s knee pressed up against her, his hand only inches from hers on the door.

Draco’s voice is coming closer, and Harry’s eyes widen in alarm, but then he’s grabbing her, surging up and pushing her firmly back against the wall right next to the door. He ends up pressed completely against her as the door swings open, barely missing them, and for a moment Ginny’s brain completely fizzles out.

Draco storms by without so much as a look in their direction. Harry lets out a breath, the air rustling the hair framing Ginny’s face, and that does absolutely nothing at to help. Harry looks down at her, only now seeming to realize their current position. His mouth opens like he might apologize, but she presses her hand to his mouth as Snape finally steps out into the hall as well.

Snape lingers a moment, staring off into the direction Draco disappeared, and Ginny doesn’t even dare breath, or think about Harry’s lips against her palm, the unreal amount of heat he seems to be giving off. It’s a really sodding inconvenient moment to register the warm woody smell that must be him or his soap or something, but either way, it’s making her dizzy.

Focus, Ginny.

Snape finally turns, heading back towards Slughorn’s party and disappearing inside.

Ginny lets out a breath, pulling her hand down from Harry’s mouth, fingers registering the slight roughness of his chin.

“Ginny,” he says. “Did you—"

“Not here,” Ginny hisses, wondering if he takes pride in getting caught.

He nods, glancing back in the direction of the party. “Cloister?”

She doesn’t exactly feel like going back to the party anyway, she tells herself, so it’s stupid to feel disappointed that this particular misguided evening is clearly at an end.

She nods.

Fortunately, it’s not too far because there is no way for them to walk under the cloak together, at least not any way for Ginny to feel comfortable doing it. Harry walks at a fast pace, his eyes bright with a strange sort of intensity that leaves Ginny feeling inexplicably disgruntled.

They’ve no more than stepped inside the cloister when Harry flings the cloak aside and crows, “I knew it!” He strides across the space. “I knew he was up to something. And Snape is in on it! You heard him! Serving his master. And I don’t believe him for a second that he wasn’t behind what happened to Katie. He was clearly lying, the slimy git.”

And so he goes on, repeating almost everything they heard with such zeal and conviction, that she rather quickly feels like he’s forgotten she’s even here. She wonders if she got up and left if he’d even notice. 

She tells herself she’s being petty, the rational part of her brain pointing out that the overheard conversation was definitely worth being picked over. Potentially damning on many levels. She hasn’t even begun to process it, to be honest. But all she can think about is what a nice time they’d had, what it had felt like when Harry pushed her back against the wall. The way even now as he paces and rants, what a dashing figure he cuts in his dress robes, and Ginny fully realizes in that moment what a complete fool she is. How much she’s let her feelings get away from her.

It had felt so…good, being at the party with him. But clearly it hadn’t meant as much to him. She was foolish to think it had. She can’t help but think of him offering to walk her back to her compartment on the train all those long months ago, realizing all he’d wanted to do was spy on Draco. Being with her had been beside the point entirely.

Her chest fills with a sharp pain, wondering if she is destined to make the same stupid mistakes when it comes to Harry Potter. This was hardly a real date, Ginny. You were convenient.

Pushing to her feet, she walks towards the exit. She’s a writhing roiling mess right now and wants nothing more than to escape. To take the time to think about this clearly. Because if she has to try to talk right now, she’s bound to say something she really, really regrets.

She hasn’t made it all that far when Harry calls out after her. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my room,” she says, not even able to look back at him right now.

He catches up to her, his hand on her arm, looking concerned like he actually cares. “Now? Already? If you’d rather go back to the party—”

“Why did you really ask me to go with you tonight?” she asks before she can stop herself.

“What?” Harry asks, eyes shifting to side with clear guilt, and that’s it, that’s the last straw.

“Trying to get yourself a Slytherin spy to watch Draco for you?” she asks. “Going to ask me to sneak you into the common room?”

He blinks. “No. That is not why I asked you.”

She shakes her head, not particularly in the mood to hear any more. “Sure,” she says, pulling her arm free and moving for the exit.

“It’s not,” Harry insists, still pressing and why can’t he just let her leave? 

“Then why?”

“Because I bloody like you!” he very nearly shouts at her.

Ginny stills, feeling the anger melt almost instantly into something else. Something much worse. She slowly turns to look back at him. “What?”

Harry closes his eyes, blowing out a breath and stepping closer to her. “Because I like you, and if you’d gone with someone else, I’d have been tempted to set birds after them.”

Ginny feels her heart pounding away in her chest, even as her mind struggles to process that. “There’s no accounting for taste,” she quips, because she’s stupid.

Harry’s face just absolutely falls, like puppy that’s just been unexpectedly kicked. He turns away, sitting down on a tumbled marble block.

“Harry,” she says, taking a step towards him, even as she has no idea what to say.

“You really don’t think much of me, do you,” he says. 

Ginny shakes her head, even as shame floods her body.

“First that I’d cheat you in the match. Now that I’d only ask you to the party to get you to do something for me.”

“That’s not true,” she says, not appreciating him turning this back around on her. She’s not the one who almost ditched him to go spy on an inane arch-nemesis, or whatever the hell Draco is to him.

He gives her a look of disbelief. “Yeah, it is. You were even suspicious of why I’d want to help Reiko with Quidditch!”

She wants to deny it, but the inescapable truth is that she does always seem to jump to the worst conclusions around him. “Maybe I do,” she forces herself to admit. “But it’s not because I think poorly of you.”

She can tell he doesn’t believe it. “Then why?”

Because it’s far easier to believe the bad things of him than to believe he actually likes her. Despite the fact that he just rather clearly told her that. Shouted it, really.

“Because I like you too,” she admits, knowing she’s felt this way far longer than she’s ever been willing to admit. Because it never mattered. It was never going to happen. Never could happen. So why be weak enough to want it? “And it’s easier to think those bad things than accept that you might…like someone like me.”

Harry’s pushed back to his feet. “Someone like you?”

She lifts her chin. “A Slytherin.”

“I don’t care,” he says.

She laughs. “You mean you’ll overlook it.”

He walks towards her. “No. That’s not—Merlin, I’m mucking this up. You were right, what you said last year. About seeing all Slytherin the same. I know that.”

“And yet you would have left me there,” she says, horrified to feel the prick of tears in her eyes. “For everyone to see.”

He lets out a sound of frustration. “I would have come back.”

“Would you?” she asks, not so certain herself. Harry is apparently willing to forget absolutely everything else when it comes to catching Draco or Snape doing something wrong. 

He looks ready to immediately confirm it but has the grace to hesitate as if really thinking about it. “I don’t know. But I do know I would have felt like a right arse about it if I hadn’t.”

She lets out a humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s something.”

His jaw clenches. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I’m also right about Malfoy, and having everyone constantly telling me I’m imagining things or being petty or tilting at nargles or whatnot is driving me barmy!”

Ginny opens her mouth, but Harry cuts across her.

“And no, before you can accuse me of it, it’s not just because they’re both bloody Slytherin. You heard what they said!”

She wants to snap back at that, at this stupid obsession with Draco, but she can’t ignore what she heard. She doesn’t really know what it means just yet. But at the very least it’s suspicious. And he’s right, that she’s always jumping to the worse conclusions around him.

Harry is standing a few feet away, staring at her like he’s waiting for her to turn and bolt any moment—like he’s torn between making his point and not wanting to drive her away.

Either way, this clearly means a lot to him.

Taking a breath, Ginny sits, carefully settling her robes around her. “Start at the beginning.”

Harry looks wary, like he suspects a trap. “What?”

“With Draco. Start at the beginning. Why do you suspect him? And of what exactly?”

“Ginny, I’m not asking you to—”

“No,” she says, cutting across him. “You’re not. I’m offering.”

He still hesitates.

“If you don’t want to tell me—”

“I do,” he says, looking surprised by this himself.

“Okay.”

He starts calmly enough, like he’s trying to prove how rational he’s being about it all, but as he talks more and more about Borgin and Burkes, what he saw on the train, his suspicions about Katie Bell, the way Draco’s been acting this year—giving up Quidditch, passing up prime chances to be a prick, walking around looking half dead—he ends up furiously pacing back and forth, like he feels the need to spill it all out before she can get a chance to tell him he’s wrong.

He eventually runs out of steam, turning to look at her, clearly braced for her reaction.

“Okay,” is all she says, still trying to take it all in, what it might mean. Not ready to express an opinion.

“He has the mark,” Harry presses, as if this is not the reaction he wants from her.

“The Dark Mark?” Ginny says, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck go up.

He nods, so certain of himself. “He was showing it to them on the train. You know what that means. He’s a Death Eater.”

She touches her own arm, fingers sliding up over her forearm and the tattoo there. “That isn’t always a choice.”

“What?” he says, walking over to her. He looks down at her arm.

She lifts her chin, resisting the urge to tug the fabric back down over her skin. Harry just stares down at it, his brow furrowed. “Everything always looks different from the other side,” he mumbles.

“I suppose so,” she says, feeling horribly exposed and not particularly liking the troubled look in Harry’s eye. She pulls her sleeve back down, getting to her feet. “It’s getting late.”

This shatters Harry’s immobility. “I’ll walk you back,” he automatically offers.

She shakes he head. She doesn’t need his misguided sense of chivalry. “It’s after curfew. And the opposite way for you.”

“I don’t care,” he says. He blows out a breath. “I mean, I want to.”

She hesitates, as always the weak part of her wanting to grab any excuse to spend more time in his company.

“At least let me do this one thing right,” Harry says. “Please.”

She nods.

He surprises her by offering his elbow, like he still doesn’t mind touching her, like that little green tattoo on her arm doesn’t change everything.

She slides her hand into the crook of his elbow.

They’re quiet as they work their way back across the castle. It’s not uncomfortable exactly, but it does feel heavy with everything said. Things still not said. She’s not sure which one of them is doing it, but they are walking slower and slower, the closer they get to the common room.

“This isn’t really how I wanted this evening to go,” Harry eventually says. “Just so you know.”

“And how did you want it to go?”

“Well, with a bit less arguing, I suppose.”

That startles a laugh out of her. “With us? Doesn’t seem likely.”

“Yeah,” he says, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose not.”

Against her will, her hand tightens on his arm. “You must be regretting asking me now.”

Harry’s answer is immediate. “Not even a little.”

Despite herself, she finds herself leaning into his arm, wanting so much to believe that. He’s warm and close and there’s that scent that seems to go straight to her head. Despite every complication, this feels seductively simple.

“Me either,” she finds herself admitting.

“Ginny,” he says, pulling her to a stop as he turns to face her.

The way he’s looking at her makes everything slow, makes her feel hyper aware of how close he is standing, how alone they are. She’s still holding his arm, and his hand moves slightly, brushing her waist, almost like a question. She doesn’t move away, lifting her face to look at him.

And then he’s doing it, leaning in as if to kiss her, Ginny’s heart thudding away in her chest, something like anticipation tingling along her skin. Only he stops short, his eyes uncertain as he looks at her, like he’s worried about making another mistake.

So Ginny makes the mistake for him.

She lifts up to meet him, needing to know what this feels like. Wanting to know.

Harry’s hands grip her arms as her lips meet his, pulling her closer.

It’s nothing like her kiss with Kieran, which had been more of an unwelcome attack in her estimation, though had left her wondering if it was possible she didn’t just like kissing all that much. But kissing Harry disproves that almost immediately. His lips are warm and gentle, not really demanding anything, like just being here is more than enough for him.

She moves her free hand up to his neck, fingers sliding around to the curl of hair at the back of his neck, just wanting to touch him, to feel that this is real.

He makes a sound, something low and pleased, and on instinct she parts her lips, Harry immediately pressing closer. Everything only seems to fit together better now as his head tilts to the side.

Her back comes to a stop against the wall, Harry above her and around her, and it’s completely overwhelming in the best possible way, the kiss stretching on and on and on, so much more than she ever could have imagined.

They break apart at the sound of voices approaching down the hall, clearly pissed as they alternate between loud singing and breathless attempt to hush each other. Harry pulls back, distance widening between them as he looks back over his shoulder.

Ginny leans back against the wall and tries to breathe, part of her tempted to just ignore the intrusion, never wanting Harry to stop. But the smarter part of her brain knows what a bad idea that is. This intrusion of reality back into the situation.

Harry looks back at her, seeming a bit befuddled and looking very thoroughly kissed.

She’d done that. Put that look on his face.

“I should go,” she says, as much a reminder to herself.

“Yeah,” he says, looking reluctant, his arm tightening around her again.

Before she can be distracted, she slips out under his arm, reaching for the entrance latch. She really just needs to think about all of this. And something about Harry has always made thinking clearly particularly challenging.

She pauses in the doorway, looking back at him. “Night, Harry.”

“Night,” he says, hands shoved in his pockets as he smiles at her.

Letting the door swing shut behind her, she stops right inside the doorway, her hands going to her lips. There are so many things to think through, to consider more closely, but for now, she just stands there, never wanting the sensation to end.

[anothersadsimp]

Simple Nights

Frankie Moralas x Best Friend!Reader

Words: little over 2k

Warnings: EXTREME FLUFF

You had moved in with Francisco Morales after he had gotten back from the whole fiasco in South America. The lady friend he was with had it with his life choices and left after he came back, leaving him and their baby girl. You had talked to Frankie about helping out, even if he assured you he would be okay, and moved in with him to help keep them afloat.

Frankie was forever grateful for all the work you put in, both with him and Rosie. You were always there to support him from enlisting to become a pilot, to helping him get sober. You became his rock, the thing that grounds him as everything tumbled down on top of him. Even as he “screwed up” the relationship with his wife, you still stood by him.

Somewhere in your friendship blossomed something more. You both knew it, but refused to acknowledge it. The friendly touches slowly grew into full on cuddling, and the terms of endearment became more frequent. Frankie’s friends, more like brothers, often teased the both of you especially now that you’ve become a mother figure to Rosie, his beloved daughter.

So when you came home from a rather busy day at work, you were excited for the comfort that caring for Rosie brought. Not only that but the baby snuggles are a type of stress relief like nothing else. You kick your shoes off and hang up your bag on a hook near the door. It’s quiet, other than “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac softly being played from one of the rooms. You smile as you make your way through the hall, stopping to lean against the doorway to Rosie’s nursery.  

You stood there watching as the man you fell in love with held the sweetest 9 month old child, swaying around to the music. Your smile grows at the sight, and your heart melts from hearing his voice sing softly under his breath. He slowly turns as he dances her around to see you at the doorway.

“Hey!” He draws out with a smile that reaches his eyes.

“Hi.” You greet him quietly before looking down at Rosie who screeches at the sight of you. “Hi baby!”

She smiles and reaches out for you. You gladly take her in your arms, bouncing her excitedly and kissing the top of her head. Frankie’s smile doesn’t leave his face as he watches you with his daughter. His eyes are soft, and his heart skips a beat as he watches the two most important people in his life interact in such a soft moment.

“I think she missed you.” He says rhetorically with a smile.

“Did you miss me little Rose? Did you miss me?” You ask in a high pitched kiddy voice.

She lets out a little sound of agreement with her tongue popping out of her teething gums. It's one of the cutest smiles you’ve ever seen, one that will always make your day better.

“Well good. Cause I missed you too.” You pout as you nuzzle your nose into hers.

You pull back and start dancing with her to the music playing. Frankie is frozen just watching you with his little girl, before a loud beep pulls him from his trance. You look up from Rosie confused, when Frankie starts leaving the room.

“I put some pasta in the oven, so it’d be ready when you get home.” He explained.

“Thank you.” You look at him with a hopelessly grateful look in your eyes.

He nods before walking towards the kitchen to take the pasta out. You turn back around to turn off the music and start walking out of Rosie’s room.

“You hungry?” You ask Rosie, bouncing her on your hip at your words.

She makes a loud “da” sound, to which you took as a yes. You smile at how she seems to be learning and understanding everything you say. She seems to be growing faster than you can keep up with, and pride fills your entire being.

You walk out with her and start strapping her into her highchair. Once you’re done with the buckle you slide the tray onto the chair and she happily starts slapping it with her hands. You chuckle knowing that it’s her sign that she wants food. You walk over to where Frankie is getting down plates for the pasta. You both get your share of pasta and sit down at the table on either side of Rosie. You start cutting up the pasta into tiny pieces and put them on her tray so she can eat it.

“I’ll cut her up some pasta, you should eat.” Frankie worries.

“No it’s fine. I can eat and feed her at the same time. I’m fine.” You try to sooth him, knowing he’s worried about you chilling out after work.

He sighs and starts eating his pasta, as you cut up a few more pieces for Rosie. You start eating after cutting quite a few pieces up for her. She babbles happily in her seat as she shovels fistfulls of food into her mouth.

“Is that good baby?” You ask her in your baby voice.

She does one small laugh as confirmation as her hands fly to her hair, lathering it with pasta sauce. Frankie reaches over saying a small “no” as he removes her hands from her hair. You laugh at both of them, Rosie for being silly, and Frankie trying to stop a kid from being messy. Frankie looks at you giggling at their antics and smiles at the sound as he fights with her daughter’s messy hands. He sighs knowing it's no use to try and stop her.  

“It’s okay, we’ll have bath time after dinner.” You smile.

He smiles with you, as you seem to ease his trouble. He doesn’t know how you do it, how you handle everything with a child so easily. He knows you have some experience through family and friends, but it still blows his mind. It only makes him fall harder for you when you treat her as your own.

Once dinner is finished you move to rinse the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. Frankie moves to get Rosie out of her seat as he sees you rinsing the dishes from the corner of his eye.

“I'll do that, if you want to give Rosie her bath?” He offers.

“No, it’s okay. You get started and I’ll help you after.” You smile.

“Ok you ready for a bath?” He mumbles to Rosie while lifting her out of her chair.

He walks with Rosie to the bathroom to start her bath. She babbles on pointing in the direction they’re going and Frankie easily “converses” with her. You smile as they walk away, and turn back to the dishes.

You quickly rinse them off and place them into the dishwasher, planning on running it later. You dry your hands on a nearby towel before trekking down to your room to grab some PJs, and stop by the bathroom. Frankie is on his knees leaning over the bath lathering Rosie’s head in baby shampoo. He quietly mumbles to both himself and Rosie as he bathes her.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower in your room if that’s okay?” You ask, clothes in hand in front of you.

He turns towards you with a soft look upon his face. It’s not the first time you’d use his restroom to wash up, but for some reason his heart still skips a beat from the domesticality of it.

“Of, course.” He nods.

You smile and nod in appreciation before stepping away. You walk through his bedroom into the bathroom, and set your clothes on the counter. You turn towards the shower and open the glass door to turn it on. You step back to let the water heat up, and you grab your phone to put some calming music on.

You take your work clothes off, fix your hair so it won’t get wet, and step into the steaming water. You sigh in relief as the frustration of the day flows down the drain. You start humming lowly to the sound of your music, as you turn and let the water run down your back. You soaked in the shower for a bit before you reached down to grab the soap to wash your body. You had forgotten that you were in Frankie’s bathroom as you reached for the soap. You shrugged before grabbing it, knowing he wouldn’t mind if you used a bit.

You couldn’t help but inhale deeply at the scent of his soap being lathered onto your skin. It was oddly comforting, and a soft smile graced your face. Your mind couldn’t help but to wonder to the selfless man who cared so deeply for you and his daughter. You felt soft, wanting to bask in the warmth that only he can give off. You focus back on your shower and rinse the soap off your skin. After a few more moments basking in the scalding water you turn it off, and step out to wrap yourself in a fluffy towel. You dry yourself off with the towel before setting it aside to put your PJs on.

You step out of the bathroom, steam from the shower following you into Frankie’s bedroom. You begin walking towards the nursery again to see Frankie rocking Rosie, trying to get her to sleep. They see you coming in and look up at you. Rosie gives you a big grin clapping her hands at the sight of you as Frankie gives you a closed lip smile.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“Much, thank you.” You smile back.

He smiles a little more at your answer, happy you’re feeling better. “I don’t know how you get her to fall asleep so fast.”

You laugh a bit before reaching out to take her into your arms, “Here why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll get her to sleep.” You offer.

He agrees, places her in your arms, and gives her a quick kiss to the top of her head. You move to sit down in the rocking chair and turn the lamp on next to you. Frankie stops when he flips the lightswitch and looks back to see you adjusting Rosie in your arms.

“Put your head down.” You mumble softly.

Rosie does as you say putting her head down on your shoulder, her face hiding in your neck. You kick off the floor to start rocking the two of you back and forth at a soothing pace. He sees you close your eyes resting your head softly against hers. His heart melts at the sight, and god does he want to hold the both of you in his arms. It takes a lot for him to finally turn and head towards his bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for Rosie to fall asleep with your hand running softly over her back. You nearly fall asleep in the chair with her, but you manage to stand up from the chair. As you stand you sway her in your arms, shushing her as she stirs. You walk over to her crib where you slowly lay her down. She sighs as she melts into the cushion of the crib and you slowly back away to turn the lamp off.

You quietly pull the door shut, and squeak when you run into a hard surface. Frankie puts his hands on either side of your arms to steady you and apologizes under his breath. You look up to see Frankie’s soft chocolate eyes looking down at you.

“Is she asleep?” He whispers.

“Yeah, sacked out.”

He steps back, giving you space and you both make your way to the kitchen again. You walk over to start the dishwasher, as he walks to sit on the sofa in the living room. When you were done turning the dishwasher on, you walk over to sit next to him knowing he’d ask you to sit with him for a bit before bed. You sigh and lean over, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. He moves his arm over your shoulders, and your head moves more towards his chest.

You both sit there blankly staring at the tv, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your arm. It takes about 20 minutes for him to realize your head slowly drooping and breathing evening out.

“Should go to bed, querida.” He whispers.

You mumble and snuggle further into him, arms coming around his torso. “So warm.”

He smiles amusingly at you acting like a child, before reaching for the remote to turn the tv off. He starts shifting you off of him to stand up, trying to pull you to your feet. You groan in protest, not wanting to move or lose the comfort he brings you.

“Come on, mi amor.” He mumbles as he reaches down to pick you up.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you bridal style, your head coming to nuzzle his jaw. He walks a bit before leaning to put you down onto a bed, much like you did with Rosie. Your arms wrap tighter around his neck not wanting to let go of his warmth. His hands come up to your arms as he slowly pulls them from his neck.

“Let go, baby, I’ll be right back.” He whispers.

You whimper but do as he says, letting your arms fall limply to the bed. It's a few minutes before you feel the bed dip beside you, as it becomes darker. You blindly reach out and seek for Frankie lying next to you. He feels your arms reach out for him, and before you can reach him he slides his arms around your waist to pull you to him. You shuffle closer with his movement and rest your head on his chest. Your hand runs over his chest for a moment before it stills over his heart, and on instinct his hand comes up to cover yours. He leans down to press a kiss to your head, and you nuzzle closer into him.  He takes a deep breath before fully relaxing into sleep with you.

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Don’t let me Forget

Based on the song “I don’t quite remember” by Beth Crowley

Sebastian Stan x reader

Word count 1884

Warnings: breakup, tears, small fight

Summary: You break up with Sebastian because he’s away so much, but then you realize that having him around some of the time is much better than never having him.

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

“Look, I just don’t know if this is working out anymore Sebastian,” you said quietly, crossing your arms. Your boyfriend Sebastian stood in front of you, confusion written across his face. He had just gotten home from shooting in God knows where. He had been gone for 3 weeks.

“What do you mean, y/n?” he asked you, stepping closer. You shook your head, “Look, I know it’s your job and it’s not your fault, it’s just...It’s hard when you leave and then I can’t see you for weeks on end, and I thought I couldn’t handle it, but I was wrong.”

You loved Sebastian very much, that wasn’t the issue. You had just overestimated your abilities to do the long distance thing.

He stepped closer to you and you averted your gaze. “Babe, I…” he grazed a hand over your arm. “I’m sorry. I mean, I know I’m away a lot, but please. Don’t do this. I love you.”

You stepped back and turned away from him. “I think you should go.” you said, voice wavering a little. “Please Seb.”

“No, I’m not going to just leave.” he said, walking around in front of you again. “We can make this work. Please, don’t give up on me.”

You just shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed a little before shaking his head and stepping back. “You said you understood. You know this is my job. You knew what you were getting yourself into!” he yelled.

Anger rising in you, you snapped back “Well I didn’t realize that this relationship would be more of me waiting for you to come home than actually spending time with you!”

He shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

“Well neither is being alone for weeks!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face.

He softened and tried to come comfort you. You stepped back. “Don’t! Just….” you sighed. “Please just go.”

“Please y/n -”

“Now.”

Stunned into silence, he sighed before grabbing the bag he had just come in with and walking out the door, slamming it behind him. And once the door closed, you broke down. 

Sobs wracked your body and you fell to your knees. You didn’t really want him to leave, you just couldn’t take the standstill anymore. The waiting, the disappointment when he said the shooting was extended, or the annoyance when he had to drop everything he was doing to take a phone call from his agent. You knew it was his job, but you never knew a relationship could feel so lonely. 

You didn’t sleep in your room that night. Or the next week. You couldn’t. The empty side of the bed where Seb used to lie felt different when you knew he wasn’t coming home anymore. You could still smell his cologne on his pillow, and you couldn’t do that to yourself. Not yet.

You tried to push him out of your mind. You put all of the things he left behind in a box and shoved it into a far corner of the closet so you didn’t have to look at it. The days were okay, you were occupied enough with your job and regular day to day tasks. But when the sun went down and you would lay on your couch, the memories would come back to haunt you.

All the laughs, all the smiles, all the times the two of you made it work. These nights would always end up with you crying, remembering all that was and thinking about what could have been. What you threw away just because you were a little lonely.

This went on for a few months. You could feel your focus slipping at your work, and in the things you did. You thought you had pushed him out of your mind, and every time you were satisfied with how you had moved on, he would creep back in from a darker corner of your mind you apparently had missed.

You were having second thoughts. Regret was beginning to consume you.

But as the days went on, you realized that some of the memories you had, the best ones, were becoming foggy. They were muddling together, fading away. And at first you thought that’s what you had wanted. But the more you thought about it, the more you wondered if you actually wanted to move on. Or if you maybe wanted a second chance.

You missed the way he would smile at you, the way his laugh sounded. Sure, you could go on google or youtube and flick through the thousands of pictures or videos of him being the goofball that he was, but it was different when he was with you. And that couldn’t be found on the internet.

You pulled out your phone to look for pictures you had taken together to try and jog your memory of what it was like when he would smile at you. But what you found instead was where they used to be, since you had deleted them all that first night. 

Frustrated, you scroll through your phone to see if there were any texts or emails, voicemails, anything to give you something, but you had deleted those as well. You chucked your phone at the wall, not caring if it was broken. You put your head in your hands and started crying. You missed him so much, and there was no way to hide it anymore.

You stand up and walk to the room you used to share with him. You hadn’t been in here since you broke up with him. You plopped down on the bed and rolled over to his side, breathing deeply to get a whiff of his scent, only to cry even harder when you realized that had faded too.

You sobbed into what used to be his pillow, clinging to it tightly. You stayed like that for the rest of the night, trying to immerse yourself in the memory of him. But it was still so cold. You had nothing left but your pride and fading memories, and neither of those could keep you warm on this cold autumn night.

The next day was a Saturday and you woke up, but didn’t get out of bed. What was the point anyways? You had nothing to do that day, and you had no plans to try and do anything. It would just be interrupted by thinking of what you lost.

You stared blankly at the wall, and your chest ached with loneliness. You realized you didn’t remember what it felt like to have Seb wrap his arms around you from behind and hold you close. How you felt against him, and him against you. You would do anything to feel him, see him, hear him again. 

You would have never let him go if you knew that you could have possibly felt as alone as you did right now. And you didn;t know how, but somehow that feeling got worse with each passing day.

The tears were flowing again and you did nothing to stop them. No one would see them anyways. And then you were painfully reminded of that day when you had pushed him away when he was just trying to wipe away your tears.

He would never do that again

That thought alone was enough to cause you to roll into your pillow, a new set of sobs overtaking you. You never knew that love could hurt so bad.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by what you thought was knocking. But no, it couldn’t possibly be someone knocking, you hadn’t had anyone over since he left. No one knew how much you were struggling with the choice you made. 

But you heard it again. 4 firm knocks. Wait…

You sat up in your bed and wiped your face aggressively. Seb used to knock that way, and no one else you knew did. You knew you shouldn't get your hopes up. Why would he come back after all this time?

You walked over to the door, hoping your eyes weren’t too puffy and that you didn’t look as much of the mess that you felt like you were inside. Your hand hesitated over the doorknob, before closing your eyes and turning it.

You opened your eyes and nearly fell to the ground when you saw Sebastian standing at your door. “Hey,” he said.

“Seb!” you said, gasping a little. You crossed your arms. “What - uh - what’re you doing here?”

He looked down at his feet. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, and his hair was a mess. You thought it was cute, the way it was tossed about, but you brought your attention back to the conversation.

“I, uh…” he started, before looking up to meet your eyes. “Can I come in? Please?” 

You nodded, stepping to the side. He stood there, hands in his pockets, and you tried to memorize every last detail of him before he vanished again. You needed to remember everything.

“Look, I know when we last saw each other - we didn’t leave on good terms - it’s just…” he sighed, looking back at you. “I missed you.”

You nodded again, afraid to open your mouth because you knew a sob would escape instead of words. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking, and you brought your eyes to meet his own. They were shining with tears. 

You felt tears stinging your own eyes as well. You looked down at your feet before saying, “I didn’t sleep in our bed for months because it smelled like you. I deleted everything that night and it has been eating away at me that I couldn’t remember certain things about you. Your laugh, your smile...” you let a few tears escape before meeting his eyes again. “I missed you too, Seb.”

He let out the breath he had been holding and stepped forward to hug you. When he wrapped his arms around you, you finally broke down. It was real, he was here, and his arms held you tightly. “I’m so sorry, Seb. I made a big mistake. This was all my fault.”

He shushed you and rubbed a hand up and down your back. “I’m sorry too, babe. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be alone for so long, waiting.”

You shook your head against his chest. “Not as painful as knowing you wouldn’t be coming back and not remembering how it felt when you were here.”

The two of you stood there for a few more minutes of silence, besides the sniffling and quiet cries of the two of you. You took a shaky breath. “Please don’t go. No matter what I say, don’t leave again.”

He tightened his arms around you again. “Never again. Not like that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. You were both a crying mess, bloodshot eyes and red faces. You leaned up to kiss him, and it was the best feeling you had had in awhile. “Never let me forget what this feels like,” you breathed into him.

He shook his head. “Never.”

[mrfeenysmustache]

Some Family is Found

Summary: A collection of vignettes about the Higurashi family, from Single Dad Souta, schoolyard fights, blended family of three then four, and learning to let go and let fate take control.

"Papa Souta!"

Yanked from sleep with a harsh gasp, Souta was already half rolled out of bed and running before his eyes had fully opened. He knew that tone, scared and frail and small, and his body had become well trained over the last year to respond to it immediately.

He dashed quickly from his room to hers, throwing open the door and flinging himself inside right to her little bed where she sat wide eyed and terrified much like she had been when he'd first laid eyes on her.

"Towa! I'm here. You're safe. It was just another nightmare."

No sooner had he sat next to her had she thrown herself into his arms, shaking and snuggling while he crooned wordlessly and petted her soft, white hair.

The first time she'd called him Papa had been a night just like this one. A handful of months passed with her in his care and every night she woke in a fright, babbling about sisters and fires and someone named Setsuna. She'd clung to him just this way, rubbed her sniffling little nose into his shoulder and called him Papa with a shaky sigh that bound his heart right up.

Her nightmares came further apart from that night on, but every once in a while he was still needed to chase away the darkness.

"It's okay, it will all be alright." He shushed gently, swaying her back and forth while he scratched at her scalp and rubbed her back. Eventually she quieted down and then went limp with sleep again. He tucked her back into her bed, smoothed the hair back from her forehead and smiled at the peace that returned to her little cherub face.

He checked her alarm clock and sighed; it was early enough that she wouldn't normally be up, but his own alarm clock was about to go off, signaling his painfully early study hour. He was almost done with his degree and then waking before the sun could, hopefully, become a thing of the past. With one last look at the sweetly sleeping face of his little daughter, Souta quietly left her room to return to his own.

———

The bell chimed the end of the day and a flurry of tiny bodies rushed passed him, giggling and squealing and eager to leave the school yard behind until tomorrow. Souta gulped and straightened his shoulders before striding across the lawn and entering the doors once the last of the children had filtered out.

He'd spent enough of his own childhood here to know where he was going, and his legs carried him unconsciously to the principals office where he'd been called in for an important meeting.

He steeled himself at the door and took another deep breath before opening it dipping his head in greeting to the principal and eyeing the wilted form of the white haired toddler he'd been asked to come in to discuss.

His heart panged at the sight of her, his normally vibrant girl so small and sad and dejected, one of her pigtails drooping and a bright red scuff mark marring her round cheek.

'Oh no...'

"Higurashi-San, Thank you for coming."

"Of course." He replied, sitting in the empty seat across from the large desk.

A pair of sad red eyes shifted his way and he smiled softly, reassuringly.

The principal finally looked up from her paper work and blinked, looking perplexed before adjusting her glasses.

"I'm so sorry, there must be some confusion, I believe I requested that Towa-Chan's mother or father come in to speak today."

Souta winced internally, but kept his expression genial and placid.

"Yes, you did. There's no confusion. I am Higurashi Souta, Towa-Chan's father."

The principal blinked again and cleared her throat, looking between he and little Towa with a glint in her eye he didn't appreciate.

"My, you certainly look very young to be a father." She said crisply, and Souta bristled and struggled to keep his tone polite.

"I'm sure it doesn't surprise you to know I hear that quite a lot."

"Yes well. Let's get to the point, shall we? Towa-Chan has been exhibiting some shocking behavior of late. We are very concerned."

"As are we, she's made us aware that she's been on the receiving end of some unfair teasing."

The principal sniffed and shuffled her papers before folding her hands primly.

"Be that as it may, we can not tolerate violence against our other children, and Towa has instigated several physical altercations this week alone. Unless something drastic is done, she is risking expulsion."

His eyes widened and he sat up straighter in his seat, meeting the principal's gaze unflinchingly before looking once again on Towa. She still didn't look up, staring at her feet and making herself as small as possible. It broke his heart, and he heaved a sigh before looking back to the principal with a smile.

"I understand. I'll talk with her tonight. Thank you for your time."

He stood and scooped Towa up from her seat. She curled into him and he strode quickly out of the building. He stopped on the stairs to switch her over to his back, and after hooking his arms behind her knees she rested her head against his shoulder and sighed a forlorn sigh.

"I'm sorry Papa Souta. I caused so much trouble."

Her little voice, small and broken, tore into him, and he wondered if he might be doing something wrong.

He knew he was young to be a father, especially to a school aged child like Towa. She was barely six, but he wasn't quite out of university just yet, and was far from the ideal situation for having small, helpless people depending on you. He still had so much to learn himself.

"Don't worry about it Towa-Chan. No one wants to be picked on. You just need to remember your strength. You aren't like the other kids, you're much stronger."

"Okay." It was barely above a whisper, and Souta hated for her to sound like that.

The rest of the journey home was made in heavy silence, but Mama Higurashi swept in to lend her gentle touch and Souta watched Towa brighten a little under her attention.

Cookies and tea and an affectionate pat on the head as her grandmother helped her color a picture soon had Towa back on track and Souta sighed in relief.

"Why don't you go and study for your upcoming final and leave us girls to our own business, hm?"

"Thanks mama."

——

Mama Higurashi tearfully hung the picture she'd taken just a few nights before on the wall, brimming with love and pride.

Souta smiled back from the center of the frame draped in his graduation gown with Towa beaming atop his shoulders, his graduation cap covering her white hair.

It's not what she ever expected the photo of his university graduation would look like, but she glanced at the high school graduation photo of her firstborn daughter and grinned.

Both of her children seemed fated to walk interesting paths that twisted off from the rigid one set in place by society at large.

She couldn't say she was anything but proud.

A squeal of delight drew her attention to the window nearby and she watched indulgently as Souta scooped Towa up before falling to the ground with her, tickling her sides while she laughed and wiggled away.

A thread of worry wrapped around her heart then and she said a silent prayer that this new school year coming up for her would be easier than the last.

A new school, a fresh start, hopefully her granddaughter would fare better with the students at this school than she had before. She was such a dear girl with an unshakable sense of justice that she already couldn't help but fight tooth and nail for.

The sun glowed off her little white pony tails and her smile stretched freely across her face, and Mama Higurashi found herself wondering not for the first time if they hadn't ended up adopting Kagome and Inuyasha's child.

She looked very little like them aside from her hair color, but she certainly had Kagome's sense of right and wrong and Inuyasha's strength to back it up.

The likelihood of that was low, especially as she'd only ever spoken of someone named Setsuna.

"Well, time to call them in for dinner."

———

"I'm sorry Papa Souta. I cause you so much trouble..."

"It's alright Towa. I was thinking this other school would be better for you anyway. They have a wrestling team!"

Her eyes still held a glimmer of uncertainty and guilt, and though he was was stressed and concerned, he didn't want her shouldering such feelings all the time.

He knew she remembered her life before he'd found her on his front lawn, that she'd come from somewhere else before they'd taken her in, before he'd decided raise her as his own child, and he had a suspicion that she feared he might one day grow tired of her escapades and be done with her.

But he just couldn't. She may not have come from him, but she was his.

He was going to stick with her no matter what.

We have to go pick up your uniform next week, they have several colors to choose from, is there one you like best?"

He handed her the brochures and watched her nose scrunch up at the list of pictures of skirts with different colors and numbers of pleats, and bit his lip to keep from laughing outright.

"Um, no, I don't have any preferences."

"You're sure?"

"Anything is fine, really!"

"Alright. Well, have you been practicing with the sword you found with grandpa the other day?"

Suddenly her face lit up like the sun, and Souta sat back and listened while she detailed all the things she'd been practicing that she'd seen on various internet videos.

Her last teacher had admonished him for allowing her to peruse such interests.

'It's wildly unlady like. You should not be encouraging swordplay from a girl who already can't control her violent urges with her peers!'

She'd even thrown in a barb about her lack of a mother.

But while Souta agreed that Towa needed to be less violent while at school, he couldn't imagine discouraging her from the things she loved, even if they weren't the most feminine.

She bounced around the room, showing him some of the swings and stabs she'd nearly mastered and he couldn't help but think her Aunt would be so proud to watch her follow in her footsteps.

———-

"Grammy, when will Papa Souta be home again?"

"Oh much later I think Dear. I'll be tucking you in tonight, is that alright?"

Towa nodded solemnly but then burst into bright giggles when she saw her grandmother pull the secret stash of cookies out from the back of the cleaning cabinet.

"It's a big night Towa, what say we celebrate early?"

Mama Higurashi sat on the couch and let Towa settle in beside her before opening the box and letting her select two.

"One for each hand!" She chirped, smiling up at her, red eyes glimmering. It was their long standing tradition and she cherished how much her rapidly growing granddaughter still enjoyed it. She was now teetering on the edge of childhood, a vibrant girl rapidly approaching her pre-teen years.

"One for each hand my darling."

"So... you think she'll say yes?"

Mama eyed her granddaughter for a moment, but her face was unreadable.

"I do. She's a lovely woman."

"Yeah. She is."

"Do you not wish for her to join the family?"

Towa crunched into her cookie and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"It's not that. What if she doesn't like living with me all the time?"

"Oh Towa honey, Moe-Chan loves you! She's probably the most understanding person we've ever known. She's certainly taken everything in stride."

"She makes Papa Souta happy."

"She does. You know most of all he wants you to be happy though, right dear?"

"And I want him to be happy too. So yes, I hope she says yes tonight." Towa replied, leaning into her grandmother's side.

"Can we watch my favorite movie tonight?"

"That awful horror film? No chance young lady!"

Towa erupted into giggles while her grandmother put on calm, soothing movie they both enjoyed, and Towa drifted off into sleep feeling safe and content.

———-

Moe Higurashi hovered awkwardly in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, watching Towa as she sat still as a statue at the dining table, head down and pillowed on her arms. She heaved a tired sigh, and Moe's heart constricted.

She'd known before she married Souta that his daughter had many troubles at school. She was strong and sure and didn't stand aside when others were being mistreated. Thus, she was often a target for those who wanted to prove themselves stronger than her.

Towa had started another new school just this week, and already the fighting had started again. She could practically feel the stress and guilt oozing off her young step-daughter's young shoulders, and she wanted so badly to do something about it without overstepping any boundaries.

An idea struck her and she stepped quietly away to retrieve her violin from her room. Towa had not moved an inch when she returned, and in fact didn't seem to be aware of anything outside of her own troubled thoughts.

Moe hesitated for one more moment before delicately clearing her through and startling Towa out of her funk.

"May I sit here please?"

Towa nodded and watched silently as Moe took the seat across from hers and began tuning the strings of her violin. And then, without a word, she brought the instrument up, held it in place, and pulled the bow across the strings. She played something low and soothing, something that filled the room as well as all the stormy spots in Towa's mind until she felt the tension melt from her.

She put her head back down, but this time Moe noted with pride that her shoulders were noticeably less rigid. She continued to play even after Towa lifted her head and listened with a smile.

———-

There had been many times in the month since bringing his new baby home that Souta thought his heart would burst open with love and pride and happiness, and this time was no different.

Little Mei, still so small and sleepy and new, was reclined comfortably on a soft blanket his mother had knitted. She was fast asleep, swaddled tightly into a little bundle, and Towa had stretched out on the floor next to her, gazing lovingly down at her and running her fingers over the soft, wispy hairs on her head. She was whispering something, something he couldn't quite make out, but the look of devotion on her face toward her new little sister took his breath away. They were as mismatched a set as he'd ever seen. Mei's soft brown hair and eyes contrasted sharply to the burning red of Towa's eyes, or the shock of silver that grew from her head, but they both lived deep inside his heart.

Moe entered from the opposite side of the room from the kitchen with a flour stained apron around her waist.

"There are my girls! Towa, I've brought you a cookie fresh from the oven."

"Thank you Mama Moe." She whispered in return, careful not to wake her sister, and Souta watched Moe valiantly attempt to keep her own emotions in check. He knew how much it meant to her that Towa had grown so close to her.

"Let me know if you need anything."

Moe went back into the kitchen, and Souta took another indulgent moment to watch his daughters begin forging their bond.

————

Souta held his smile until the moment the shining portal winked out of existence, and then his expression fell and he grabbed desperately for his mother's hand.He squeezed it and she responded immediately.

"Souta, what's wrong my son?"

"How-" he gulped around the fear rapidly growing and choking him, watched Moe scoop up a crying Mei, silent tears tracking down her own face, and knew the dam on his emotions would break soon. "How did you do it mama? How did you... how did you let Kagome go over and over and over? How were you always okay with this?!"

Mama sighed and rubbed his back, staring off into nothing for a moment as old fears and anxieties swam back up from the recesses of her memories.

"Come inside my dears, let me make you some tea and try to ease your worries. At least, let me help you try to manage them better than I was able."

Souta hung back until the others had filed inside and looked back at the place his daughter had just disappeared without a trace. He'd watched his sister vault over the well time and again and remembered the distant fears he'd had for her as a child.

But she'd had Inuyasha, his larger than life living legend brother-in-law who he was convinced could beat any opponent conceivable.

This time, he wasn't a child anymore, and this wasn't his sister.

This was his child, one he'd practically grown up with he'd been so young when he'd adopted her.

And though he knew what she was, the very same sort of being his childhood hero was, still he worried.

For her safety, for her wellbeing, for her life.

He closed his eyes, and for a moment he prayed, that she would remain safe and unharmed, that she would find what she was looking for, that she would solve her quest, that she would return to them.

And then he wiped the tears from his face, and turned from the Sacred Tree that had taken her away, and he walked inside, trailing pieces of his heart behind him.

[bubblegum-writes]

every storm runs out of rain

A/N: hello guys! this is my first fic of allllll time. please let me know how i did and any feedback would be appreciated! thanks and love uuuuu guysssss!

          The light of the morning is far more delicate, more gentle than any other light of the day. Whereas dusk and especially noon-light stabs at the eyes, sparing no one from its rays of power, morning offers a peace that only a few privileged early-birds can see on any given day. For this reason, Katsuki was grateful for his strict sleep schedule. To see his lover's face in the pale sunlight of dawn, with her lips parted and small snores reverberating through the sleeping space, was to see the face of God in his eyes. His eyes peeked through his eyelids, the warmth of the body next to his becoming more apparent with every waking moment. Her (h/c) locks were piled atop the pillow; sleep has not treated them well. The tangles would surely be a mess to deal with when she woke up. 

          If someone had asked Katsuki 10 years, 5 years, hell, even 2 years ago, if he saw himself finally settling down with someone with whom he found love within, he’d simply sneer at the thought with some not-so-delicately picked explicits. His pride would not allow him to entertain such fanciful ideas. No, it wasn’t just pride; it was a culmination of pride, fear, and ignorance that had wrapped itself into a tight, Gordian knot-esque ball of strangled emotions. However, unlike ancient beings of superb physical power like Alexander the Great, (Y/N) did not simply tear through it like a savage in hopes that the problem would be solved. Instead, she took her time to study it, to understand why the knot had formed in the first place. With delicate and dainty fingers, she slowly unraveled the heap of emotions, traumas that were committed to memory long ago, and precariously put them all into a single, organized line of memories. Together, they traversed the paths of hurt and anger. Throughout the process, Katsuki finally saw how someone can be simultaneously caring yet strong, soft yet hard. His eyes slowly opened to the world, and with her help, he took it all in with grace. Well, as much grace as Katsuki Bakugou could handle. 

          After a few slow blinks, he was able to look at his lover (no, his wife) sleeping soundly in their king-sized bed clearly. After last night’s certain affairs, neither one of the duo had bothered getting dressed afterwards. No wonder her naked figure had yet to wake up; the passionate love-making and numerous rounds they had both endured not even twelve hours ago must have taken a toll on her body. The light from the gigantic window that stood above the headboard streamed through the room, illuminating everything in a peachy, almost antique color of yellow. Fierce red eyes held a somber, yet enduring look as they slid down her figure, from her hair, to her eyelashes and eyes as they flinched to and fro in her deep sleep. Further down her looked, and he found the marks he left on her the night before. Dark purple and blue spots on her collarbones, chest, and midsection looked like the finest art to him; he felt an overwhelming sense of pride knowing that he was the artist who littered them across her beautiful skin.

          His hands slowly left the mattress and moved up towards her face, his calloused thumbs rubbing against her cheek lovingly. Subconsciously, (Y/N) moved her head towards the hand that comforted her, that brought her great pleasure. He smiled, his eyes narrowing so he can take in everything glorious about this moment. He slowly encompassed his ethereal wife with his strong arms, careful not to wake her up, and tucked her head beneath his chin. His calloused fingers rubbed and her arm and back, deep hums of a long-forgotten lullaby reverberating from his throat. The burnt orange blankets were strewn about their bodies, their legs entangled and chests tightly pressed onto one another. The birds were singing their morning songs loudly; spring has finally shown its face despite the harsh winter whose storms and snowfalls had ravaged Japan just months earlier. The thought of the renaissance of the trees and birds made Katsuki recount one of his darkest nights that led to his lightest moment.

          Every storm runs out of rain. (Y/N) told Katsuki that one day after his hero work had finally cracked his constitution. He had come home with a blank face, a far cry from his expressive, if not constantly angry, face. He dropped his bags by the door, not even bothering muttering a small ‘hello” or even a grunt in acknowledgement. (Y/N) was busy finishing dinner, his favorite: spicy takoyaki. Immediately she could tell that something was amiss with her fiancé. She knew if she pried or even attempted to ask what was wrong straight-out, she’d be met with a dismissive wave and passive aggressive rumbles at best. She watched Katsuki sulk through their apartment and into their bathroom, shutting the door with a loud slam! With a deep sigh, (Y/N) returned to the takoyaki, making sure none of the fried balls had burnt.

          She was grateful that she was almost done before Katsuki came home. She finished up the takoyaki, unplugged everything, put foil on the balls to keep them warm, and slowly paced herself towards their restroom. She gently placed her head upon the door and she heard the water running, but no music.

          How unusual, she thought. Ordinarily, he brought his phone into the shower and listened to whatever music fit his mood that day. However, she was greeted with near silence. Except for the near-silent sobs of her favorite person in the world. Gently, she turned the knob and pushed the wooden door. The shower curtains were closed, but she could barely make out his silhouette through the steam. Katsuki was crouched on the shower floor, his head in his knees and his arms around his torso. His head was shaking slightly, the sobs breaking (Y/N)’s heart with every moan. Katsuki was so caught up in his suffering that he had yet to notice (Y/N) slowly undressing just outside of the curtains.

          Gently, she grabbed the edges of the curtains and pulled them back. With a pitiful yelp that almost made (Y/N) purse her lips and eyebrows in pity (she didn’t however, because she didn’t know how he’d react in this situation), Katsuki looked up at her, trying his damnedest to look tough and put-together. Quite frankly, he looked like a wet, sad dog. In any other scenario, (Y/N) might’ve chuckled, but this was not the time to do so. She slowly dipped one foot into the scalding water, wincing as it barely burned her skin. She gauged his reaction to see if she should continue. When he just continued staring at her, not making an attempt to stop her or even move, she slowly lowered herself until she was sitting directly across from him.

          “Hello, dear,” she whispered, the sound of her voice barely carrying over the sound of pounding water. He suddenly swiped his red-tinged eyes away to stare at the ground between his knees. His breathing was labored and his blonde hair was stuck to his face; he didn’t even try to move it.“Hey,” he slowly said, still not making eye contact. The words permeated the air, hovering like the steam off of the two hot bodies. Testing the waters (both physically and emotionally), she took her hand and lay it atop one of his knees. He tensed, not prepared for the physical contact as his eyes slowly started trailing up (Y/N)’s body. She was perfect in his eyes; her body always seemed to melt into his, like two different puzzle pieces finally finding their other half. Above that, her personality glowed like a horde of fireflies on a hot summer night.

          He always wondered how someone could be so empathetic yet strong, funny yet serious, positive yet idealistic at the same time. On top of that, how could that person find anything good in him? He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to handle; he didn’t really choose to be that way. Yet (Y/N) found the good within him, behind the anger and sarcasm and pain. 

          “Wanna talk about today?” She gently offered her ear to whatever problems Katsuki had.

          “Maybe....I just….” He never had an easy time communicating his feelings, but at least it was easier around (Y/N). Before he could continue, (Y/N) slowly moved her body to rest atop his between his knees and chest, her arms wrapping around his neck.

          “Everything will be alright, dear. You can cry. I am here. I am here for you. I love you.” She assured him as she traced her nails atop his shoulders. Finally, the dam broke. His tears mixed with the shower water, his sobs echoing in the spacious bathroom. He told her about a villain that had attacked the city today, how he wasn’t fast enough or strong enough to save everyone. As he talked he gradually tightened his arms around her, until they were in each other's vice-like grip. He felt the safest had ever had, or maybe ever would be as well. (Y/N) dragged her fingers through his hair, humming in response to his talking and shushing sweet lullabies when his emotions came to a peak. After both lovers had been drenched and their extremities had started to prune, Katsuki felt lighter than he had for some time. He opened the locked chest that was his heart, poured the contents out in front of (Y/N) with no hesitation, and she worked his soul into newer, brighter shapes. Completely forgetting the takoyaki, they moved to their bed to finally rest for the night. He would never forget what she said after they had dried off and lay down in bed, naked yet not sexually connected in the moment. He thought he had finally gone to sleep, but before he could succumb to the darkness himself, he heard the words that stuck with him ever since.

          “Every storm runs out of rain.” 

          Gently reuniting with the current moment in time, he felt his eyes had teared up without his knowledge. His smile was not a sad one, but rather one of pure, unadulterated bliss. He pulled (Y/N) even more tightly into his chest, kissing the crown of her head repeatedly. Lethargically, she opened her eyes, her eyelashes tickling the blonde man’s chest. Trying not to disturb the perfect moment between the two lovers, she gently raised her head to meet crimson eyes. In that moment, the world had stopped moving; every set of eyes in the world was concentrated on the two sweethearts, awaiting their next moves.

          “Hello,” Katsuki grumbled, his knuckles pushing her hair out of her eyes, “How did you sleep?”

          “After last night? Like a baby.” She joked as she leaned up and kissed his chin. Again, if you had asked Katsuki 2 years ago if he would ever find himself in such a vulnerable position, he’d deny ever allowing himself to not be as strong or as brave as humanly possible every second of every day. That’s what (Y/N) did to him, though. Piece by piece, brick by brick, she took apart every facet of him with gentle heart and hands and put him back together with as much love conceivably possible. He never asked her to, she just did. He’d find a way to thank her, one day.

          “You sure as hell don’t snore like a baby,” he chided with a light tone. He leaned his head back so he could take her beauty all in. Her eyes were still drowsy, but it just added to her charm. He felt so incredibly safe here, in their shared bed with (Y/N) deep within his hold. “Speaking of a baby…” Katsuki drawled, watching her face scrunch up with a mixed look of confusion and...was that hope? His hand slowly trailed down to her lower abdomen, stroking below her navel where his future children would grow.

          “Are you putting down what I’m picking up?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and best as she could in her tired state.

          “God dammit (Y/N), I’m tryna be serious about having a kid and you’re over here joking about it!” His eyebrows furrowed, but both of them knew it wasn’t done facetiously. He pulled her face towards his, their lips only centimeters apart before their eyes met. In that moment, every word he had wanted to say to her about them, about their future, came into light. Her eyes narrowed with a smile and she closed the space between them.

          It was a kiss that started slow, their heads slowly twisting and lips opening and closing on one another. Eventually, things got heated and, after a good hour, they lay in each other’s arms again, considerably sweatier and higher off ecstasy than before.  

          “Would you want a boy or a girl?” She spoke softly into his hair, his head tucked beneath her chin. 

          “I want a healthy baby for us to love, that’s all I want. That’s all I ever wanted after I found you.” He murmured into her chest, stroking the hand beneath her bottom on the outside of her thigh. (Y/N) giggled before she took his face into her hands.

          “I’ve made you a softie, haven’t I?”

          “....Shut up…”

thank you for reading! i appreciate any feedback! lemme know if you need any trigger warnings and also lemme know what you guys would like next!

[crewhonk]

Only Happy Accidents (11)

YN is determined, on God, to let Steve have his day and not make it about herself for once.

Warnings: YN is dumb and in early labour, little smutty moment, Nat Knows Everything. y'all have had a fluffy lil series, but I'm about to angst it up and im not sorry

Only Happy Accidents (master list)

Songs: High As Hope Album— Florence and the Machine 

_______________________

July 3rd, Steve’s Birthday Party, Three Weeks and Three Days until due date, 9:15 AM

“You know. This view is something else.” YN piped up from the balcony of Steve’s old room at the tower. The room was massive and clean. The balcony was YN’s favourite besides the king bed, as it overlooked the treelike and training grounds that YN could watch the new recruits do morning laps or stretch out in the sun. “It’s nice to get out of the city for once.”

He hummed and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso and swaying with her, hands on her swollen belly. She was wearing the prettiest little number he’d seen her wear since her wedding dress, and god, he’d married the most beautiful woman in the world. All of the worlds, probably. It was a simple white sundress that plunged between her boobs and stopped at the top of her stomach. A thin white piece of fabric cinched at the waist allowed for the dress to flare over her stomach and ass, and Steve really, really didn’t want to leave this room.

It was odd being back here— a stranger to his past life. The too clean surfaces of the room and bare walls which had never been cluttered with pictures haunted him and reminded of a person who he didn’t like. He liked the person he was now, though. Kind, sentimental, husband, almost-baby-daddy. 

It was odd being here, but Dr. Cho and Natasha insisted— they both wanted YN to be close to the delivery room and medical office in case something happened, and Steve, for once, encouraged Natasha’s overprotectiveness. 

“Have I told you I love you today, Wife?” He mumbled, lips teasing the bare skin of her neck. Her hair was tied into a bandana and off of her neck, and he loved the access it gave him. Maybe his favourite part of her was, in fact, the back of her neck. 

“A few times, but I could be reminded, Husband.” YN snorted, liking the way the word tasted on her tongue and how Steve held her closer when she said it. He felt her stomach move under his hands and a thrill like no other filled him from his toes to his nose. 

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder. “I love you,” kissing her neck. “I love you,” kissing her jaw and cheek and finally, turning her head to face him, kissed her lips ad smiled. “I love you.” 

YN smiled and kissed him back, stepping away quickly and backing away from him and into the bathroom. “I know.”

___________________________

12:07 PM

Natasha prided herself on being observant. She knew Bucky was hiding something from her— not normal for him, but she trusted him enough to know that he would tell her when he was ready. She knew that Sam had been the one eating her snacks she specifically labelled. She knew Cho was seeing someone inside the compound. She knew things, and it was her favourite quality. 

So when YN walked in with Steve’s hand wrapped in her own, Natasha knew today was the day. 

It had taken a few strategic words on her part to get Steve to leave his wife’s side, but when he finally succumbed and moped off to find Sam and Bucky, Natasha followed YN to the snack table set up for the guests about to arrive for Steve’s birthday party and waited. 

“YN.” She said, and YN shook her head, shoving three finger sandwiches in her mouth and gathering a handful of cherry tomatoes. 

“YN.” She tried again and YN swallowed her food, eating a lemon square, and upon debating it, ate another. She looked at Natasha who was staring her down and YN raised on finger. ‘wait’. 

So, Natasha waited, eyeing YN’s stomach nervously. It was lower today than any other day she’d seen it— YN had always carried the baby high, but today it looked to be a completely different bump. Steve was sure to be aware, but since the due date wasn’t for another three weeks probably convinced himself that it was the dress YN was wearing that made her appear different. Steve was never someone who made assumptions about things this big. 

YN finished the cherry tomatoes in her hand and gulped down some punch, ate the slice of fruit she’d picked up and turned to Natasha. 

“I’m not allowed to eat in the delivery room, and I’ve been having light contractions since 8 AM this morning.” YN said simply and Natasha’s jaw dropped. Her hands immediately fell to YN’s stomach and somehow the skin and muscle even felt different. 

“You’ve been having contractions?” And upon YN shushing her loudly, dropped her voice. “And Steve doesn’t know?”

“I told him that she’s sitting on my bladder and I’ve been going to the bathroom and leaving the room often so I can carry out the worst ones.” YN said, looking at her husband who was laughing loudly with his friends. God, his world was about to be shifted upside down. 

“How far apart are they?” Natasha asked, and YN looked at her phone, nodding. One minute to go.

“I’m about to have another one in a minute if they’re regular, but right now they’re all at eighteen minutes give or take.” YN said, grabbing Nat’s hand and pulling her from the room. She walked quickly down a few turns and leaned against the wall, rocking from side to side and looking as if she was concentrating very hard on a spot on the other wall. 

“What can I do?” Nat said hurriedly. 

“Keep watch. I’m not letting this ruin Steve’s birthday party.” YN snarled through her teeth. They weren’t bad— just really bad period cramps, but they still sucked.

“YN. You are in early labour, we need to tell him.” Natasha hissed and YN straightened up, leaning the back of her head against the wall and catching her breath. 

“No. These past few months have been about me, and I just want Steve to be the centre of attention for once. He deserves it. Plus, I only started having contractions at eight this morning, audit’s noon now— I still have a minimum of four hours before real labour starts.” YN tried to reason and Natasha shook her head. 

“Can we at least go see doctor Cho?” Nat pleaded and YN, after searching her expression for any way out, nodded. 

“Fine.”

____________________________

1:00 PM

“So, you are in early labour, but you’re only about two centimetres dilated, but I’m not going to keep you here since you’re not in active labour.” Cho beamed, having grown attached to both Steve and YN throughout this process. She’d been a huge part of this journey, and felt as if she and YN had become some odd form of friends. 

“Told you.” YN joked at Nat as she helped the pregnant lady out of the stirrups and onto her feet. YN slipped on her slipper-flats and bowed her head as a smaller contraction made her belly tense. 

“Hey, I’m this kids aunt, so I’m going to make sure they’re safe.” Natasha rolled her eyes and smiled, nodding towards Cho who looked thoughtful. 

“What do you think the baby is going to be?” Cho wondered. “I have my guesses but It’s not my place to say.”

Natasha looked at YN, then, and down to her belly. A small, pale hand rested on the swell and Natahsa cocked her head. 

“Healthy, I hope.”

____________________________

3:16 PM

The party was swinging, by now. The music filled the common room as Avengers from around the world and galaxy filled the room to celebrate Steve Rogers. YN smiled politely as Carol Danvers looked fondly down at you, shaking your hand. 

“He’s a lucky guy, that Steve Rogers.” Her voice was low and silky and if it was Halloween again, maybe, just maybe, YN would have flirted back. 

“I think I’m the lucky one, honestly.” YN blushed and Carol smiled brightly. The conversation was that of small talk and not much else, but YN did feel as if she was the only person that mattered when Carol spoke— a quality of Carols that YN quite admired. Eventually, Carol was beckoned by Nick Fury, who had chosen a casual pair of sunglasses over his usual eye patch. 

YN could feel pairs of eyes on her the whole time she wandered around the room, and found that Wanda Maximoff, Pepper Potts, as well as Natasha and Carol all seemed to be in the know about what was happening. Wanda, likely because she was in YN’s mind, Pepper, because she’d gone through the same thing (and been just as stubborn), and Carol, because maybe, just maybe, YN was being less subtle than she thought. 

The contractions had since lost their regularity— coming at intervals from anywhere between five minutes and half an hour. It was disheartening, frankly, but seeing the was Steve seemed to be glowing was bearable. YN was leaning against the counter, just watching him from across the room and nursing another finger sandwich and water when he looked over. Peter Quill and Thor were both chatting with Steve, but when Steve caught her eyes, he excused himself politely and wandered over to her. He walked up slowly, and leaned against her lightly, kissing her soundly and making her toes curl. 

“You’re pretty.” He murmured, dopey smile on his face. YN snorted, and cupped his cheeks gently, kissing him again and brushing the tip of her nose against his. 

“You excited?” YN asked nervously, and Steve grinned widely cupping the sides of her belly. 

“I just want to meet him now—“

“Her.”

“It’s going to be a boy I know it.”

“I’m sure she wants to meet you just as bad.” YN smiled, and as she felt another cramp tighten in her stomach, kissed the breath out of Steve Rogers to distract herself. 

____________________________

7:07PM

The dinner plates had been cleared, and the party had settled into the couches— only a few remained. Those with children or living off-planet needed to go, so now, only a small group remained. YN ignored the stares of Wanda, Pepper and Natasha as she curled up into Steve’s side, rubbing her belly every time a contraction made itself known. She glanced at her phone again and noted the time— they were getting more regular now— an easy 16 minutes and they were also at a consistent pain level which was manageable but still uncomfortable. 

“You okay?” Steve whispered into YN’s temple and she nodded, settling against him as the contraction subsided. He kissed the crown of her head and rubbed her shoulder which was hidden under her brown leather jacket. 

“I’m wonderful.” YN returned and she wrapped her arm around his middle, throwing her legs over his thigh and sighing. 

“You waiting for something?” Steve asked, looking down at her phone, and she played it off, shrugging. 

“You caught me, I have a mistress. She’s getting a private jet and we’re running away together.” YN grinned and Steve made a sound in the back of his throat— somewhere between a guffaw and a snort. “She’s really into pregnant women too.”

“Too bad I’m not, huh?” Steve crooned and she ignored the way her stomach turned at his tone. 

“Too bad, indeed.” YN agreed and suddenly, Steve stood, holding a hand out for YN to take and tired back to the group when she stood, blushing furiously. “We’re going to head to bed, it’s been swell.” Steve smiled and the small group of people booed. 

“Come on, man the night is still young.” Sam protested, offering Steve another beer as an offering. Steve waved him off and wrapped an arm around his wife shoulder, carting them off towards the door. 

“That’s why we’re going!” 

______________________

7:15PM

Steve wasted little time in pressing YN against the door of his bedroom, hands skirting under her dress and tracing up the sides of her thighs. His touch was hot on her, goosebumps erupting over her skin in distinct trails. His lips were seared to her in an intense kiss, and he bent down and scooped her into his arms bridal style, making her squeal and clutch him desperately. 

“Steve! What’re you—!” YN tried, laughing as he tried to sexily take off his shirt but failing and looking like a damn dork. 

“I’m about to ravish my wife, and make sure she doesn’t run away with her pregnant-woman-loving mistress.” He joked, crawling over YN and kissing her neck, making her sigh and scratch his scalp. She spread her legs easily for him, and he fit between them like a puzzle piece. 

“Love this dress, couldn’t keep my eyes off of you the whole night.” He mumbled, moving her thin strap down her arm and following its path with kisses. “It’s look better on the floor though.”

And so he urged her to sit up, kissing her forehead gently before lifting the dress over her head and making his breath stop in his throat— god, she was beautiful. She was braless— the dress made no room for one, and her tits were swollen and soft and waiting for him to get his mouth on them and give them the attention they deserved. His lips were gentle on her— her skin had been wonderfully sensitive these past few days, and it never took much time for her to become putty in his hands. 

“Steve.” YN said, and he grunted against her, the taste of her warm in his mouth. She wanted to continue this, really she did, but someone else int eh room had another idea. 

“Say my name again, Sweetheart. Love hearin’ you say it.” He replied, pressing her onto her back and letting his hands drift lightly across her belly and to the apex of her thighs where he cupped her sex, and moaned. “Wet for me, huh?”

“Steve, wait.” YN said and Steve was in his right mind enough to pull back a little, looking into her eyes. 

“You okay, babe? Did I do something?” He asked, worry making his tone thick. YN shook her head and smiled, brow furrowing a little and looking at the side table where she saw her phone. 

“Check my phone please, and tell me the time.” She said, and his heart dropped to his stomach— was there really someone else?

“7:37.” He replied and she nodded, grabbing a pillow and rolling onto her hands and knees. She buried her face in the pillow and let out a low moan, somewhere from deep in her body that Steve didn’t realize she could even make. She rocked back and forth into the pillow, and Steve watched helplessly as he watched his wife’s body tighten and tighten until he thought it would break. 

“YN? What— What’s going on?” He begged and her hand shot out, gripping his forearm hard enough for him to be concerned— it didn’t hurt, but usually she was always so gentle with him, even when she was frustrated. “You’re scaring me.”

Eventually, she let her breath go and she melted into the bed, pulling her red face from the pillow and resting on her cheek, looking up at him. 

“I didn’t tell you ‘cause I wanted you to have one day where you were the centre of attention, but I’ve been in early labour since 8 in the morning and that was a damn strong contraction.”

And Steve, a man who had seen death over the period of a century, a man who has killed and run from the government on more than one occasion. Steve, a man who has saved the world countless times over and a man who was the bravest she’d ever met let his eyes roll into his skull and fall off the bed in the most dramatic faint YN Rogers had ever seen.

______________________

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