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monstersandmaw · 4 years ago

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Evening to ya, Ghosti✌️😆

Sorry if the wording sounds silly, but I wanted to ask if you know any rituals I could do for the New Years. 🤣 Christmas hasn't been exactly an easy time for me for various reasons and I tend to get the holiday blues pretty bad, and for a long old while New Years has felt very similar. I'm doing my best to feel hopeful and to have some faith for the new year, but it's turning out to be trickier than I anticipated. So I wanted to ask for suggestions as to do anything that could help feeling more hopeful, I dunno. :3

Though feel free to ignore this if you don't have the energy for it. I hope you had delightful holiday however you celebrated!!! 😊💖💖💖💖

Hey anon! (it��s now afternoon here in the UK, and it was morning when I started this! I got a bit carried away). I don’t know that I’m necessarily the right person to ask about this, but here are some ideas of things I’ve found helpful/centring/calming anyway which you could draw from. Other folks, please feel free to chime in with your favourite ways to put the old year to bed and welcome in the new one!

(first of all, I’m sending you lots of virtual ghostli hugs to help drive away those holiday blues. That sucks, and I’m so sorry it’s been so tough for you.)

Here’s a rundown of what’s below, and I’ll put in a ‘keep reading’ so that it’s not an incredibly long post! Some of it is more on the ‘spiritutal’ side of things, and others are just mundane and practical things.

Congratulate yourself on making it through the clusterfuck that was 2020

Make some tea and meditate on what’s been and what you wish for

Go outside, be still, and breathe deeply

Let go of negative events and thoughts by writing them down, then safely burning the paper

Disconnect from social media for a few days (or however long you’re comfortable with)

Start a bullet journal

Write lists of goals for 2021 and then refine/distill them down to 3 manageable objectives

Commit 100% to 6 months of positive change

Pick three dates/months in the year when good things will happen, and make them happen (including growing veg/fruit)

Light a candle on the full moon or New Year

Ok, so, first of all, you’ve made it through this year!! That’s no small accomplishment, given the sheer volume of absolute shite that has been flung at us from all angles, no matter where in the world you live. Celebrate that. Seriously, I’m not being flippant. Take a moment of stillness wherever you are, be ‘present’, and just think about the fact that you’re here, right now, reading this post. Not everyone is here any more for one reason or another, but you did it. Congratulate yourself and celebrate that. Treat yourself to a slice of cake (or something you really enjoy) specifically to celebrate making it through 2020.

Make a cup of tea (try a new blend or recipe perhaps, or stick with your absolute favourite), or make a comforting drink of your choice. As you pour the water into the cup, breathe in the steam and enjoy the scent of it. Try and imbue all the positive things - memories, achievements, moments etc. - that you encountered this year into the tea/drink, and think about them growing in strength as the tea steeps, and envisage them continuing on to next year too. When you drink the tea, you take the positive thoughts into yourself and they become a part of you. You could try it in the morning with a caffeinated drink (if you enjoy those) and let it fuel you for the day, or you could try a herbal tea at night to let the good vibes steep overnight while you rest. Make it part of your daily routine; a private meditation.

Go outside and find a quiet spot somewhere and either stand or sit and just soak up the atmosphere. If there’s a tree nearby, think about the way its roots are planted in the earth, its trunk stands tall, and its branches reach towards the sky. Feel that space inside you. Breathe deeply in and out, visualising your lungs filling to the deepest parts, starting at the bottom. Count to four for each inhale, and six out (or whatever you’re comfortable with, so long as the exhale is longer than the inhale). This will help to still you and calm you.

If you have something fireproof (can just be a ceramic bowl), take a piece of paper and make a moment to write down all the negative things about this year, using a pen that you’re comfortable with. If you’re not one for words, draw pictures. You can make it really beautiful or just scribble it all down - it doesn’t matter. Get that shit out. Look at it for a while and read it through, mentally letting go of each thing as your eyes pass over it, then light one corner (carefully!!!) and let it burn somewhere with good ventilation (a cooker hood is good for that, but outside is better). Visualise all that negativity being swallowed by the universe and let it go. My favourite line from the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf comes at Beowulf’s funeral when a Geat woman is singing her grief at his passing to the sky, and there’s the simple sentence: “Heaven swallowed the smoke.” How beautiful is that? The sky swallowed up her grief as she poured it out to the universe. The negativity might take some time to vanish from your life (it’s not going to disappear at the same time as the paper, sadly!), but watching it go can be the first stage of letting things go. I did this last year, and I’m only just letting go of the last things on that list, but it was a start, and it made me feel more at peace.

Disconnect from social media. I know that with so much more happening online this year out of necessity, we’ve become even more dependant on our phones and computers, and it’s wonderful that we have this chance to connect with people when we can’t see them face to face, but social media can also act as a crucible for negative feelings. People usually post the best or the worst aspects of what’s going on for them or what they care about, so it leads to a skewed view of both the world and of what’s going on amongst our connections. It’s easy to start feeling insignificant next to someone else because of their achievements or their looks etc. and it’s also easy to start to get a bleak outlook when the news is full of terrible stories and people are reacting to it in a volatile and often knee-jerk way. Take some time off - uninstall the apps, or put the limiter setting on, or just step back - for a day, two days, a week, whatever you’re comfortable with. It doesn’t have to be forever. If you use those platforms to talk to people, tell them what you’re doing, and give them another way to reach you if they need. No need to isolate yourself completely!! Think about how you felt before you started it (write it down?) and do the same afterwards, and compare. If it didn’t work for you, then that’s fine too.

Start a bullet journal! Now is the perfect time to start bullet journaling. I first started this year when I felt like time was slipping through my fingers and my life was out of my control, and it’s really helped me to get a sense of order back. It’s not the magic cure-all for procrastinators and time wasters, trust me, but it can help to organise your mind as well as your day, and keep track of your habits etc. It can be literally whatever tool you need it to be. There’s a trend on social media - particularly Instagram and YouTube - that shows off these gorgeous journals that are basically works of art in themselves, and while it’s absolutely fine to aspire to that if you want to, the essential point of the bullet journal is to be a tool. You can buy print-outs from Etsy if you don’t fancy doing your own spreads. But don’t get completely hung up on pretty spreads and layouts because you won’t use it fully then. If you’ve got ‘new book fear’, like I did, make your own! I literally started my journaling by folding a few pieces of paper over, slapping a few stickers on them to cheer them up, and writing some lists. I didn’t buy a ‘proper’ journal until July 2020 when I’d got the hang of what I wanted out of the tool, and how to use it. I adapted one or two things, and I’ll be changing one or two things for next year, but it was a good way to start.

Here are two ‘minimalist’ journals and styles that I found helpful when setting mine up. They focus on usefulness and practicality, rather than overwhelming, artistic spreads and cutesy designs. I’m about to do a ‘plan with me 2021’ journal video for YouTube, so I’ll put that up when I’ve finished it, in case that’s helpful.

Elsa Rhae

Pick Up Limes

Write down the things you want to achieve for 2021. These can be more abstract concepts like ‘more organised’ ‘healthier’ ‘start a business’ etc. Then, when you’ve got as many things as you’d ideally love to achieve/accomplish/manifest (don’t hold back at that stage), take another piece of paper and choose a maximum of six from that first lot to focus on, and below that, choose just three absolutely essential things to focus on. Make those your things for 2021.

Now, this one is a personal one for me, so it may not be applicable at all to you/others, but I’ll share it anyway. For me, I need to make some significant lifestyle changes for my physical and mental health. So, I’ve decided to commit to 6 months of really hard work to bring about those changes. Time is going to pass anyway, from January to June. Six months will come and go anyway. Where will I be in six months’ time? I could be physically and mentally exactly where I am today. That thought is super depressing to me. Or, I could devote 200% focus, commitment, and energy, and bring about those changes, and be the ‘me’ I want to be in six months’ time.

It’s like the adage of ‘given a week to write a speech, it will take you a week, but given a day to write the same speech, it will take you a day’ - your brain will tell you it takes the amount of time that you have at hand to accomplish the task, and that’s simply how long it then takes. Use those three things from the 2021 list above, and commit to making those three things happen.

As an aside, tell someone (whose opinions you value) that you’re going to do this. By telling someone, you’re helping to cement the idea in reality, and you’ve got a support to turn to if it gets rocky, someone to cheer you on, and someone to celebrate with who knew what a struggle and commitment this was to you in the first place.

Pick three points in the year where good things will happen. Book yourself something nice, save up for something and have it delivered then, or tell yourself that you will have achieved [x] by May, or September, or December. For me, it’s a working draft of my novel, and certain health goals by October, but make it yours, and keep those points fixed in your mind. It will help 2021 not to be one amorphous mass of time, and will give it structure and form. You could also choose to grow something in a pot - lots of vegetables can be grown cheaply from seed in a pot on a windowsill, and you’ll have something tasty to eat at the end of it!!

Here’s a slightly gentler idea to finish with:

On New Year’s Eve take a moment to yourself, go outside if it’s not raining or too cold etc., light a candle, hold it (safely) in your hands, and be still. It doesn’t have to be exactly at midnight, but it will help your focus if it’s dark. Otherwise, go to a quiet part of the house and turn the lights down so that the candle flame is your focus. As before, think about what you’ve achieved this year, and be honest, not just negative! It’s very easy to say ‘oh I didn’t achieve anything, it all sucks, it was all awful’, when there will be tiny victories tucked away in there, I promise you, even if it was the toughest year of your life. Then think about where you are at the moment, mentally and physically. Acknowledge that state of being. Look at it with honest eyes. This moment is not for anyone else, so you don’t need to colour it one way or another. It’s for you. If you’re finding it hard not to be negative, be neutral. Let those thoughts come and go, and then turn your mind to the future. Mentally feed those negative thoughts into the flame in front of you, one at a time. Say it out loud if that helps, but do what makes you comfortable. Let the light from the flame fill your mind and your heart, and think about your intentions for the new year.

Tonight (30th Dec) is a full moon, so if that is significant for you, you may wish to do this tonight instead of tomorrow.

I hope that some of that gives you some inspiration, and I hope that people will chime in with their own new year’s rituals and habits. Be honest with yourself but not harsh, and be positive but not unrealistic. This year has been one hell of a ride, and we’re not done yet... Here in the UK, we’ve got the highest numbers of Covid that we’ve ever had, we’re in the harshest lock down (Tier 4) and can’t visit anyone, and we’re also going through Brexit (which is proving a nightmare for everyone, especially small businesses...).

Control the things you can control, and learn and employ systems to ride out the things that are beyond your influence. And take heart - you have a family of folks on here, all across the world!

#new year ritual #new year #resolutions #new year resolutions #rituals #ritual

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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Pure Blood 32 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

A/N: Its feels so good to be back <3 -Val

Masterlist

Chapter 31 Chapter 33

If someone had told me that teaching James Potter was going to be like this from the beginning, I wouldn't have offered to help him. I wouldn't even have accepted his friendship.

"That doesn't make sense. You want me to ignore her, but I don't want to do that to her!"

I grunt and pull on my hair.

“It's not ignoring her. It's giving her space and not spending 24 hours breathing on her shoulder!"

"I don't do that!"

"That doesn't matter, James!" I yell, others start to stare around the Gryffindor common room.

"I told you it wouldn't be easy..." He mumbles.

"I didn't think you were such an idiot... Listen, once Lily agrees to be your girlfriend, you can be as clingy as you want, obviously she'll set the limits, but at least she'll no longer want to kill you like I want to,�� I force a smile.

"Ok, explain again," He sighs.

“Stop harassing her, say good morning to her and go on with your day, if you meet her in the hallways– and no, you don't have to look for her, you just ask her how she's doing, if she decides to have a conversation, you follow, if not, you wish her the best and you leave. Same at dinner. Let her breathe."

"But it's so boring and at that rate she'll go out with me in ten years..." He complains, resting his arms on the table.

"You already have some advantage, you've spoken to her and met a little, now she must see that you have matured and that you can have a serious relationship–"

"I can do that!"

"Prove it."

"Anything else?"

“Save the compliments, at least for now. Just be simple."

"Good."

"Will you be okay tomorrow?"

"I hope so..."

***

Two weeks passed in which James followed my advice. And right now, in potions class, I smile every time Lily turns discreetly toward James.

"I can't believe it's working," Sirius says next to me.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Do you distrust your girlfriend's abilities?"

“I'm actually scared now. Who knows what you'll do in our relationship?"

"That's up to both of us and it depends on how you behave," I smile and kiss his cheek.

Class ends and I walk along with Sirius holding his hand.

"Good thing I didn't take the bet," says Remus catching up with us. "Lily's nervous..."

"Bet?"

"The three of us weren't so sure your plan would work, but the fact that James is listening to you made us change our minds," he explains.

The three of us stop before going to the great hall and James walks over.

"This is not working Persephone!"

I frown.

"What are you talking about?" The others also look at him confused.

“Now it's worse. Lily runs away from me and when I think she wants to talk, something happens and she runs as if I had some disease!"

I smile slightly and take his hand.

“Don't worry, everything is going well. You just have to be patient."

"I've waited six years..."

"Just a little more."

He grunts and nods.

Of all the students who pass us, I notice Regulus. Sirius notices it.

"Hey, you guys go ahead," he says to the others.

I frown and look at him.

"I spoke with Regulus," he tells me, surprising me. I never told him that I had talked to his brother.

"What? Why? What did he say?"

"Ok, calm down."

"Sirius," I threatened.

“I wanted to make sure my brother was… I don't know, okay? I was never able to send him letters, for obvious reasons, and when we came back to school he ignored me, but I found a way..."

"And?"

"It was a failure, and he has every right to be mad at me," He sighs. "He told me some things that Walburga forced him to do and all that..." He's silent for a few seconds. "Percy, last night I was thinking about what would happen if I came back? If I asked for forgiveness and take full responsibility…"

"I don't think it's that easy," I walk out of reach and he follows me.

“I know, but just imagine it. Maybe my parents will forget everything and I'll be the heir, I marry you… Regulus won't have to endure anything else. I've always been there for him, even when my parents got mad because I was sorted in Gryffindor, or all those times I tried to defend someone. He always came to me and we talked. Regulus was the one who scolded me the most for what I did to you, but he knows what to say and I'm just a selfish idiot…"

His chest rises and falls with heavy breathing. I stop him and cup his cheek.

“Sirius, I want to help him too. But taking the blame and wanting to do something that only hurts you is not the solution."

"Then what is?"

"I don't know," I shake my head. I feel a lump in my throat. "We can't always help everyone and less those who do not want to."

He leans in, his forehead against mine

"I want to get him out of there..."

"Me too," I sigh and close my eyes.

I slowly walk away and look at the boy in front of me. I wrap my arms around his neck and play with the little strands of hair that come out of his ponytail. He grabs my waist.

“I wish I could do something to keep Regulus with us, and you out of the reach of your family. Maybe the three of us in a small house..." I smile. "No school, no worries, just us in peace..."

"With James and the others on the weekends..."

"James married to Lily..."

"Remus telling us stories..."

"Peter cooking something for everyone..."

We both laugh at the thought.

"It's what we need."

***

When they say that the last year is faster, they are absolutely right. No more exams, now we can follow a quiet routine, at least inside Hogwarts.

Outside the chaos spreads and more and more Muggle or wizard families are disappearing. What worries the most are the reactions of others.

While some of us are afraid of what is happening, some smile and think that all victims deserve it.

Every time someone mentions any of that news, the atmosphere becomes tense and ends in fights.

The teachers don't want to tell us anything, after all, what can a group of teenagers do?

Just barely a week before Christmas break, Professor Dumbledore needs me in his office. When I arrive the marauders, Jenna, Lily and their friends are there too.

"What's going on?"

"Miss Singh, join the others, please" I obey.

The movements of the director on the other side of his desk are slow and meticulous. His always sweet and playful look is replaced by a serious one.

"I know you all have questions, unfortunately I cannot answer all of them," He walks to the side of his phoenix and caresses it slowly. "What I am about to tell you is confidential and it is vitally important that this only remains between us."

"Excuse me, professor," says Lily. “I don't think that's very encouraging. You took us out of class and now you're asking us to keep a secret. Sorry if I sound defensive, but I don't feel comfortable with all of this."

She is absolutely right and I am grateful someone said so. Because I have no idea whether to panic or ignore it. Dumbledore nods.

"I am aware of what is happening, I can easily read your expressions," he sighs, "I suppose you are all aware of the disappearances of both Muggle families and wizards."

"Do you know anything about that?" James asks and I tense my body.

Dumbledore nods again.

“I can't give you many details, I'm afraid, at least for now. However, the reason I brought you here together is that I have known you for almost seven years each, even if you think that teachers don't pay attention."

Sirius and I share a look.

“Therefore, I have the confidence to tell you about an organization. This is not official and we did not plan to tell you before everyone was of legal age, but the situation has worsened very quickly and I fear the worst..."

"What does that have to do with us, professor?"

“This organization aims to defeat the enemies guilty of all this chaos. I have spoken with the others and we agree that you can be of great help to make this happen."

"But we're just kids," adds Peter.

"That's the key, young Pettigrew."

My family comes to mind. I have no proof, but something tells me that they may be involved.

“For now, you cannot do more than gather information. Unfortunately, we are not the only ones who have rallied young people to be on their side. As soon as you graduate, we will tell you all the details and you can make the decision. We don't want to force anyone, but...” He gets up and watches us through his half-moon glasses. "You may be the solution."

Everything is silent for a few minutes, until McGonagall arrives and asks us to return to class.

"Miss Singh, may I have one more moment?" I nod. "I see that something else is bothering you, may I know what it is?"

Of all the people I could tell, I know that Dumbledore can be a great help. I know Sirius and the others know something, but they're just as lost as I am. Maybe someone older can help me.

"I don't think I can help much, professor."

"Why not?"

I frown.

"Do you know my family?"

He laughs slightly.

“Yes, I know them. Do you think they are involved in this?" I nod.

"And now I can't do much outside of school, they watch me."

“I am aware of that, Miss Singh. But that's why I'll give you time to think about it. I don't want to ask you to do things against your family, far from it. When this year is over, you will have your answer."

"How can you be so sure? How do you know that everything could work? If I accept and my family finds out, I could not bear the guilt and I don't want to be anyone's spy, I don't want to do any of that,”I say agitated.

Dumbledore sighs.

“Whatever your decision may be, I will personally help you with any problem you come across. You have my word,"

My eyes water.

It's not the answer to all my problems, but it is more than anyone could give me.

***

"You can't have chocolate cake for breakfast, P," Jenna scolds me.

"Sure I can, watch" I take a piece with my fork, but another hand takes it away.

"She's right," Remus says, pushing my fork away.

I pout.

"I wasn't going to eat just that," I lie.

"Here, " continues Jenna putting a plate with pumpkin soup in front of me.

"But I don't want soup..."

"That's the condition, don't be a child!" says Remus.

"Fine," I give up.

"Who would say that now they scold you even for eating?" Sirius scoffs next to me.

"It's not the only time. Only merlin knows how many days I had to hide my chocolates so that you could eat something else..."

"Ha…"

Sirius makes a face.

"Uh, Persephone," Lily tells me a few seats away.

"Yes?"

"What did you do now?"

"Another scolding? And now why?"

"You tell me, everyone is watching you," I raise my head and confirm what the redhead says.

I don't remember anything... at least something bad.

"Is it because she's with Sirius?" Marlene asks.

"I don't think so..."

At that, several owls enter the castle. I don't receive any, as usual, but something that worries me is that the accusing looks continue and some point to me, then see a white paper in their hands.

"Oh no," Jenna whispers and I notice she has a black envelope. "This is not good…"

She opens it and with her shaking hands takes out a white paper. She reads it and I see her pale. When she's done, she watches me.

"I, uh..." She hands me the paper.

I take it and read the italicized words.

The wedding of the century.

The great heirs of the most important families of the wizarding world Walburga and Orion Black along with Ares and Amelia Singh, have the honor to send this invitation:

You are cordially invited to the union between Regulus Arcturus Black and Persephone Amelia Singh.

The ceremony will take place in the summer of the following year at the great Black Mansion.

Taglist

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107 @thagreenmoon @madmaiden2890 @msella @avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft @secret-obsessions

@xkonpinkx

@littledeadgirlwalking

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight

#Pure Blood is back #Pure Blood #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x reader #Persephone Singh #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Regulus black #Harry Potter fanfic #Lily Evans #twoidiots writing

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beykhabarr · 4 years ago

Text

Drarry Muggle AU (Part 2)

Read Part one here

Read Part 3 Here

Ok Im sorry this is just getting really really long, and im still not dont yet! I just want them to have the perfect first date :((((, (I suck at writing conversations please forgive me)

“I know, I am sorry, I know I went overboard but I want you to know that you can be so much happier, that life has so much to offer you”

“Oh, you really should not have done this, if you weren’t my best friend I would have killed you by now, where the hell was Blaise and why didn’t he stop you from overstepping your boundaries,”

“As if he could stop me” Pansy scoffed and Draco scowled at her “I mean, Potter literally walked to your house, what bigger sign do you need?”

“I am not ready!” Draco whined

“You won’t ever be ready, love, it’s been years!”

“You really think he will like me?”

“I think he already does”

“Don’t lie to me, I can take the truth”

“Okay, the moment I asked him he agreed to come, despite knowing that he will be third-wheeling with me and Hermione who, in fact, couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves, you really think he would agree to come along if he wasn’t the least bit interested in you? How stupid do you have to be?”

“Ugh, okay, what if he doesn’t like me after I go out with him like he just doesn’t find me interesting?”

“You think way too much! You are funny, handsome and interesting, and you won’t know what he thinks unless you give it a shot!”

Draco remained silent, biting his lip, he had no idea what to do.

“Now don’t be a child and come, let’s go, it will be the best night ever”

“Easy for you to say” but he still followed her out of his rooms.

His parents must have both gone to sleep because the house was silent but the mess that covered each and every piece of the hardwood floor spoke volumes, as he walked down the stairs, he tried his best not to look at a certain portrait of him and his father lying on the floor, shards of glass glimmering in the little light of the hall, he tried his best not to think about what he felt towards his father now, only a feeble tug of longing where there should have been so much more, a void that should have made him feel loved and cared for, instead he felt like a liability. He tried his best not to think about it, but the harder he tried the more vehemently the thoughts clogged his mind. If it were not for the gentle tug on his sleeve, and Pansy’s sweet voice filling his ears, he would have stayed there drowning in the mist not knowing a way out. Where there was hurt and disappointment a moment ago, he let his mind rush with a sudden adoration and gratitude for Pansy taking over.

They both walked outside, into the cold December night, it was way past midnight and the moon shone brightly atop their heads, and the only thing that stopped his from staring at the mood was Harry Potter standing by Pansy’s red convertible, the moonlight reflecting gently in his glasses, and a tiny cardboard box in his hands. The camera did not do justice to his attire, a suit that was so green it was almost black, and how it brought out the colour of his eyes.

“Draco, love, you’re staring” Pansy elbowed him “Don't embarrass me in front of Hermione,”

“Err, don’t you use that tone with me, I am still very mad at you”

They walked over to the car then, Hermione was sitting in the car, scrolling on her phone, her hair styled like a crown, she seemed tired.

“I am sorry we kept you both waiting for so long,” Pansy said “Draco here was having a tantrum”

“I was no—”

“Hey, Harry why don’t you let Draco taste some of that cake,” Pansy said, he refused to look at her but could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Uh-yeah, here,” Potter said and extended the box he had been holding.

“Thanks for coming,” Draco said, taking it from him, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Uh, it’s not a problem, who am I to turn down the invitation for a late-night drive?”

“A late-night what now?”

“Oh come’ on Draco just get in the car!”

“I call shotgun!” Hermione said already in place

And Pansy smiled and her eyes full of adoration, it was rare to see her so vulnerable when they were with other people, she rarely ever smiled, he had learned to hide her feelings away from a very young age.

Draco got in the passenger seat, and Harry slid in next to him.

Draco had no idea how to talk to him, he was not even sure why Harry had agreed to meet up with him in the first place, they had not exactly been on good terms up until last year.

They had gone to the same school for all their life, but Draco had had a mean streak growing up, and Potter with his righteous smirk would always come forward to defend anyone who Draco was up against, they didn’t talk to each other much for more than seven years, until the Prom last year when Harry’s date had stood him up, and he had joined Draco on the bleachers. It was the day Draco realized that he had the biggest crush on Harry, but was too scared to pursue it.

“Okay, no eating in the car, and don’t ask me where I am taking you because it is a surprise and you cannot tell anyone about it, because it is my secret spot” Pansy broke the silence of the car, and the engine rushed to life, the roof slid open and they were once again exposed to the chill of the night.

“Um, so did you have fun at the party?” Draco asked, only loud enough for Potter to hear.

“Yeah, it was great, I can’t believe we don’t hang out with you guys more, everyone had so much fun, especially with that glitter canon thing,”

“That was my idea!” Draco chimed it, “I knew people would love it,”

“I figured!” Harry said

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you are so artsy, I figured it would be your idea,” Harry said “I was hoping you’d be there”

“Uh, you were?”

“Yeah, I mean...it would have been nice,”

Draco nodded, unsure of what to say.

“But, I am glad we got to hang out tonight, thanks to Pansy” Harry said louder this time, but Pansy was way too engrossed in something Hermione was saying, both their voices hushed.

“I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time” Draco said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she’s been through a lot growing up, I can’t even imagine, she has become so guarded and she barely opens up to people, but tonight, she seems different, almost childlike” Draco laughed to himself.

“You both seem close”

Draco nodded, and looked at Harry in the eyes, as the moonlight glimmered in his soft greed emerald eyes. “Yeah, I have known her all my life and there isn't a day when I am not grateful to have her,”

Harry smiled, genuinely the smile touched his eyes, and if it was possible his face lit up even more. “She was the first person I came out to”

“Yeah?”

Draco nodded. “I just am glad she’s my friend, I don’t know what I’d do without her”

“I know what you mean, my friends mean a lot to me too, Hermione and Ron, they have been with me through thick and thin, and things didn’t get any easier, but they made everything bearable, I am extremely grateful for them too”

“I know right? Sometime friends can be so much more to you than a family member”

Harry nodded and his gaze dropped to Draco’s hand. “Hey, what’s that?” He asked, taking Draco’s hand in his, shooting electricity up through his entire arm. It took Draco a second to realize what harry was talking about, he was talking about a gash that ran across his right palm, he remembered he had gotten it a week ago when trying to clean up pieces of glass after his parent’s row.

“It’s nothing just a stupid wound”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you get it?

“Uh, I don’t really remember, maybe a scalpel or something at school,”

“Did you medicate it?”

“I,uh-” Draco was spared the embarrassment of answering when the car was brought to a screeching halt”

“We’re here!” Pansy yelled, and got out of the car.

“Where exactly?” Draco said to no one in particular.

Hermione chuckled “Oh shut up, look at how excited she is, I am sure she has something planned”

“I can’t believe she brought us into the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night” Draco said looking out the window, onto the deserted road.

“Come on Malfoy, have some patience and a knack for adventure if I must add” Harry said, nudging him in the shoulder. They both slid out of the car, but Harry didn’t let go of Draco’s hand, his incredibly cold hand fit comfortably in Harry’s warm ones.

"Okay, I know what you are thinking" Pansy said clapping her hands together in front of her in anticipation "but trust me it gets better, just follow me"

Hermione got out of her car, her hair now hanging loose around her shoulders, Pansy looked at her and blushed. "Okay you both follow you come here" she said as she put her arm around Hermione.

They walked to the side of the road into the bushes, Draco was growing anxious by the minute, but he was willing to wait and see how the evening would unfold, besides he was holding hands with Harry, so there was little he had to complain about.

They used their phone's flashlight and walked for what seemed like an hour but were only around ten minutes until they finally arrived at Pansy’s spot.

And Draco's mouth hung open in surprise, in front of them stood an enormous lake and they were surrounded by Thousands of fireflies as they watched the moon reflect in the somber and glistening lake in the starry

"So what do you think?" Pansy asked

"Holy shit this is beautiful," Harry said and Draco laughed at his unguarded exclamation.

"Harry, language please" Hermione said from Pansy’s side.

Harry scoffed at her, and Draco could not think about anything apart from the fact that he looked utterly beautiful against the starry night sky, his hair ruffled by the wind.

#drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #pansymione #hermione granger #pansy parkinson #Drarry angst #Drarry muggle AU #Drarry first date #Drarry Fluff #drarryfluff

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orionwhispers · 5 years ago

Text

Perfect Places // Steve Harrington

(A/N - yep. this isnt peaky, i know. im taking a little breather so i dont completely burn out writing tommy, but trust me i have 3 wips for him coming soon!! i dont know if any of you guys will like this bc its stranger things and thats ok!! i just had a blast writing it and i love steve and it really challenged me. pls let me know if u like it!! stay safe my loves xxx)

warnings - angst but also so much fluff your teeth will rot

You felt like the moon was mocking you.

It loomed overhead, round and full and beautiful, the colour of purity and innocence, a beacon of light contrasting against the ink coloured sky. Your face was red hot, streaked with tears that dripped down your nose and collarbone and into your shirt, staining you with sadness that you could feel clawing under your skin.

You were sat on the Byers’ front porch, the sneakers you had once kept so pristinely clean were now caked in mud, your socks soaked through. You felt numb, you ached for something; a familiar lash of anger or heartache, anything to make you feel human again, but you just felt numb.

You could hear clattering from inside the house, low murmurs of voices and whispers tangling together, but you blocked them out like it was just white noise. The steady hum of those you loved and trusted brought some comfort, but that was instantly replaced by longing for the one person who deserved to be there, the person who deserved to still be alive.

You had been ecstatically high on adrenaline, you were terrified but vivacious as you helped bundle your boyfriend and the kids into Hoppers’ car as he raced past the Laboratory’s gates. You remembered the feeling of Steve’s hands around your waist as he pushed you into the back, flustered and protective, determined to get you away from any danger.

You should have said something.

You knew something was wrong, but you kept quiet. The air in the car was thick and dense like smoke, and Hopper was covered in crimson coloured splotches, you noticed the way he didn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. You should have said something, should have asked where your Uncle was, should have demanded an answer, but instead you pushed those thoughts away and watched the road through the windshield until your vision went blurry, Steve’s thumb soothingly rubbing over the top of your hand.

You knew he felt it too.

It was only when you reached the driveway of the Byers bungalow, feet moving on autopilot, tearing through the front door and seeing Joyce waiting for you, tears running down her face as she pulled you into her chest, did you realise the immensity of the situation. You let out a wail that could rival a demogorgon, sinking down into the coarse fabric of her hospital gown, her hands clambering across your frame, desperate to offer any comfort she could.

Steve was beside you in an instant, gripping your elbows to stop you falling onto your knees and onto the shag carpet, cradling you into him like a child. He felt so helpless, not knowing how to ease your pain, words getting stuck in his throat like cotton balls as he watched the girl he loved shatter into pieces. One look at his familiar face contorted in torment and it set you off again, coughing and spluttering like you were drowning in your tears. You pushed the consolatory hands off of you harder than you had intended, feeling suffocated and in desperate need of some form of relief. You were no good to anybody like this, you needed to wallow in your grief alone, Joyce had bigger problems and you refused to drag her down under with you.

You stumbled towards the front door, murmuring “I need some air.” You sank into the darkness like it was an old friend, wrapping your arms around yourself as your head throbbed and pulsed. You let the cold air hit your bare skin and fell to the ground, knees to your chest and silent screams leaving your throat.

Steve ran forward to be by your side, but Hopper pulled him back by the hood of his jacket, a large hand consoling your distraught boyfriend, “Let her go kid, give her a minute.”

He gave you five.

Watching the hands tick away meticulously on the clock above the fridge, he flexed his fingers and allowed the slow and steady noises to keep him grounded. He loathed the idea that you were outside alone, beautiful face covered in tears, heartbroken and shattered. Not only that but the knowledge that those things could be looming in the woods waiting to sink their teeth into you was driving him mad with paranoia. The only thing stopping him from pulling you inside where he could safely watch you was the unwavering concern that not letting you grieve would do more harm than good, so he settled for watching you through the window, hands clamped around his trusty bat - just in case.

————————————————————

You were sure you had run out of tears. Exhausted and dehydrated, you buried your head in the palm of your hands, desperate to stop the mind numbing pain at the back of your skull. The trees rustled gently, olive coloured leaves glinting under the stars. You wondered what could be lurking inside of the forest, but you were too drained to care.

You heard the door creak behind you, but relaxed at the familiar weight of Cortez’s against the soft wood.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, almost timid. Sounding so foreign coming from his mouth, so cautious and kind that it almost made you start crying all over again. He paused momentarily, before inhaling and sitting down beside you, his long legs awkwardly bent, his back starting to ache, but he couldn’t care less. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, unsure how to break down the barrier that was forming between you. Your hazy eyes lingered on the T-shirt’s and sweaters dangling from the Boyce’s washing line, sleeves swaying with the movement of the wind, almost as if there was an invisible person dancing inside.

Steve was the first to break the silence. He usually was, his quick wit and smooth demeanour had been one of the reasons you had fallen for him in the first place, the only person you had ever met that could make you melt into a puddle and then cry with laughter with just a few sentences.

“How you holding up?” He faltered, picking angrily at a loose thread hanging from his denim jeans. “That was a stupid question, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t trust yourself to form words just yet, but you tilted your head as much as you could muster, communicating with your boyfriend in that nauseating way that only the both of you understood, except this time it felt sour instead of sickeningly sweet.

You crunched a stray leaf under your shoe, mulling over the sound as it tore under your heel. “It doesn’t feel real.” You muttered finally, biting your lower lip with your front teeth, letting the pain stop your tears. “I keep expecting to see his face, his stupid goofy grin.” You smiled gently, “I keep waiting for him to turn up and say it’s all a prank, but I know he won’t, he’s too kind for that.”

“He was the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Steve said truthfully, “He was a good guy.”

Was. Three words that swam around your head and tangled your stomach into knots and you choked on the thickness in your throat. The strangled groan was so heartbreaking that Steve wanted to tear apart the things that did this to you with his bare hands, but instead he pulled you closer with them, clasping you against his chest.

He let you cry, he let you ruin his t-shirt and cover him in your mascara and wet, hot tears. He would let you bawl into everything he owned, even his prized The Clash shirt or limited edition Charlies Angels sweater that was buried in the back of his wardrobe - he would give it all to you, to stain and rip and ruin, if it meant you had at least one moment of solace.

Under the beautiful navy sky littered with stars, Steve sighed, wishing he knew what to say. He wished that he was as articulate as Nancy, or as strong as Hopper, he’d even take being as soft spoken as Jonathon, if he knew it would make you feel better. But you hadn’t fallen in love with any of them, you had fallen in love with him and he was going to do everything in his power to try and make his girl hurt a little less. So he tried to distract you.

“Do you remember our first date?” He said, breaking the silence, his eyes focusing on the branches of a tree swaying in the distance.

He heard you sniffle, felt the rise of your head under the palm of his hands. If you were surprised by his question you didn’t show it. “How could I forget?”

He smiled, thinking back to the day, over two years ago. If he thought hard enough he could almost relive the gut twisting anxiety and the sweat pooling on the nape of his neck as he pulled up to your house. The two of you had been friends forever, bound since the day you both shared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the playhouse in kindergarten. But you both started naturally drifting apart around the end of middle school, settling onto different paths as you grew up, only really seeing each other in the hallways or at the back of the school bus.

By the time you both entered high school, Steve was completely swept up with basketball and his newfound popularity, and you were settling into your own friendships and trying to stay on top of your grades. You rarely saw one another, but by chance the two of you were paired as lab partners one semester in sophomore year, and soon science became his favourite subject. Seeing you became the highlight of his day, better than scoring a goal in basketball or cutting class with Tommy and Carol. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you, the conversation so easy and genuine, and he made it a personal challenge to have you in stitches by the time the bell rang.

He fell hard, and fast. He had always thought you were beautiful, even when you were just kids and you wore your hair in two braids and seemed to always be covered in glitter. There was just something about you, an ease and a lightness that you carried, something about your smile and sound of your laugh that had him stumbling over his sentences like an idiot. He liked hearing about all of the things he had missed, like how you got grounded for sneaking out of your room to go and watch the new Star Wars, or how you crashed your dads car into a tree the very first hour after you got your license.

It wasn’t long before he realised that his day didn’t feel complete unless he had spoken to you. He started noticing how every game he searched for your face in the bleachers, the only person he really cared about seeing. His eyes would flicker over faces at parties, determined to find your sparkling eyes and kind smile, finding the hit of seeing you more electric than the cheap beer and fizzled out joints being passed around him.

He was nervous. He didn’t get nervous - he was Steve Harrington for Christ’s sake, but somehow you had managed to turn his whole world on its axis. He tried to live his life with as little regrets as possible; but in the quiet of his bedroom, with the moonlight casting shadows across his walls, he couldn’t help but feel furious with himself. If he could go back in time and do everything all over again, he would make sure to hold onto you as tight as possible and stop the two of you drifting apart.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were a knockout. The kind of girl that would bring even the strongest of men to their knees, the kind of girl that lingered in his brain long after he had fallen asleep. He also knew that he wasn’t the only one who had been completely captivated by you. He had seen the way Mike Adams cornered you after the school assembly, laughing at something you said as you sat with a group of friends, an enamoured look in his eye. He saw the way Jacob Taylor tried his hardest to get as close to you as possible at a house party, dazed by the way you twirled your hair obliviously and smiled like white, hot sunshine.

He knew what they were going through, smitten and stupid and dopey and practically a puddle at your feet, because he felt exactly the same way.

He was going to ask you out to dinner and then the movies. He had an elaborate speech planned in his mind, one that he had practiced in the mirror repeatedly - not that he would ever admit it. He was nervous. So goddamn nervous of screwing up the one thing that he really fucking liked, of potentially ruining your friendship and making himself look like an ass for misreading the signals and making you uncomfortable that he almost talked himself out of it as he walked into the physics lab one rainy afternoon.

But when he saw you there, looking up at him. As sweet as cinnamon in your oversized lab coat and stupid goggles, lips slightly chewed and fingertips stained with charcoal, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting:

“Doyouwanttogooutwithme?”

For a moment he wished he took photography class, so he could snap a picture of the blush on your cheeks, have a physical copy of your wide smile and the glint in your eyes; something to look at when he was trying to fall asleep.

“About time, Harrington.” You had said, and it had knocked all of the wind from him, and he had walked around with a big goofy grin for the entire rest of the day.

————-————————————————

“I remember being so goddamn nervous. I thought I was going to throw up.” He said now, his voice laced with humour, somehow always knowing how to diffuse any situation.

You curled up further into him, craving his stability and warmth, and you relaxed as you felt his palm rubbing comforting circles across your back.

He looked into the darkness, remembering the anxiety filling him as he waited for you on the street by your house. He remembered peering into the rear view mirror, fluffing the edges of his hair with his fingertips, twisting and pulling the strands until they sat where he wanted. He could feel his leg shaking, foot hovering above the gas as he struggled to keep his composure. He hadn’t even been this nervous when college scouts came to a game, and he seriously needed to stay cool before you opened the door and saw him.

“You brought me flowers.” You said quietly, and he looked down at you with a gentle smile, his heart clenching at the sadness in your voice.

He remembers standing in the grocery store, cursing and muttering under his breath, wondering what was more romantic: tulips or sunflowers.

He bought both.

He can remember holding them in his shaking hands as carefully as he could as he walked up the stone path to your house.

“I had to talk myself into ringing the doorbell.” He felt you scoff under him and he laughed,

“Seriously! I was terrified, more scared than I was tonight.”

Its a lie. Running through the junkyard and fighting off strange monsters had been exhilarating, but also the most terrifying experience of his life; especially when he knew that the kids and you were just metres away, hidden in the old bus. He really thought he was about to die when the demodog reared and snarled in his face, teeth gnashing at his throat, but in those moments all he could think about was protecting you.

It’s strange, he had never been so terrified to lose someone.

“And then Bob opened the door.” Your voice was heavy and thick, like you were swallowing honey and it snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him of the reason you were both huddled outside.

Your parents worked ninety percent of the time, only really coming home to crawl into bed and then driving back to work six hours later. You were used to it though, falling into a somewhat stable routine of eating TV dinners and doing your homework to the sounds of Jeopardy! playing in the background. Despite the lonely nights and your parents distance, there was always one person who tried their absolute best to make you feel safe and secure. Your uncle, Bob Newby.

The goofy, gold hearted manager at RadioShack was always there for you, especially whenever your parents weren’t. He always made sure your refrigerator had something green inside, and would come over after work to sit and watch cheesy rom coms with you. He even installed new locks and security lights in the yard and on the porch, just to make you both feel better, even though it was Hawkins - and nothing ever happens there.

He was basically a surrogate dad and your best friend, and you weren’t even embarrassed to admit it. Some of the happiest nights of your life had been with him, like when you went to the midnight viewing of The Godfather and shared toffee popcorn and cherry twizzlers, or when he drove you to Lake Michigan for your birthday and you ate sandwiches next to the water.

So when he found out the captain of the basketball team had asked you out on a date, he was a little apprehensive.

“He really grilled me.” Steve muttered with a sad smile, it hurt him that one of the most poignant moments of his life was now to be covered in a thick, black cloud, and he could only imagine what you’re going through. “I thought he was going to pull out a shotgun.”

“Psh. It would have been a lightsaber.”

You remembered shovelling in cereal at the breakfast bar the morning of your date. Bob watching you over his steaming mug of coffee curiously.

“So… Any plans for today?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled fondly at your uncle. “Steve is taking me out. This is only like the billionth time I’ve told you.”

He nodded, “Right, Right. Steve. Steve.” He tested the name on his tongue. “And Steve is - the captain of the basketball team right?”

“Yep.” You said, through a mouthful of sugar. “Oh, and he’s the leader of this really tough biker gang, to get in you have to murder three kittens.”

You watched his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and then slowly fall back to their original spot when he caught on to your teasing. He held up his hands in playful surrender, taking a swig of his drink and then placing his mug on the granite counter.

“I know I’m being a fusspot! But I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know, Bob! But I’ll be fine! We’re just going to catch a movie and then dinner.”

“Ok.” He sighed, turning to wash up the dishes left from the previous nights pig out fest, but his hands stilled before he could twist the faucet. “Wait! Nothing R rated - or too romantic, and tell him to knock it off if he tries that whole ‘I’m so tired, let me put my arm around you schtick!’”

“I’m ignoring you now!”

You remembered getting ready, picturing the soft blush hue of your summer dress, and the taste of your strawberry gloss on your lips. You remembered the heat of your curling iron as you meticulously styled your hair, checking your reflection as a way to distract from the minutes ticking by.

You knew the familiar feeling of sweaty palms and butterflies before a date, but that morning it was as if somebody had realised a kaleidoscope of monarchs and swallowtails inside of you. You were completely nauseous, but so excited, and you felt like you were floating on cloud nine, unable to believe that Steve Harrington - the boy you had been crushing on since first grade - wanted to take you out.

You were nervously touching up your makeup, widening your eyes and applying yet another coat of mascara, when you heard commotion downstairs - and the telltale sound of your date getting completely grilled. You practically flew to your feet, haphazardly tying your converse and grabbing your purse, hoping to save Steve from the clutches of your overprotective Uncle. You nearly slid down the carpet when you noticed the door was ajar, smiling widely at the sight of Steve clutching two bouquets, his hair perfectly coiffed and his sneakers white and gleaming.

“- No I’ve never been in an accident, Sir.” You heard Steve say, his voice carrying through the hallway.

“Hmm?” You heard Bob reply, “And what about alcohol? Do you drink it?

“Only eggnog at Christmas.” Steve replied with a grin, his lips falling down when Bob sent him a glare. “Ok, not in the mood for jokes.”

“Are you under the influence now?”

“What? No! Why would I… Wow.” He faltered when he noticed you at the top of the stairs, and for the first time his mind went totally blank, his brain short circuiting at the sight of you. He felt his mouth go dry and he struggled to say something, not wanting to look like any more of an idiot than he already was, but Bob got there first.

“You look great, sweetheart.” He said, voice brimming with pride.

You blushed a deep crimson, feeling awkward under both of their stares. “Thanks, Bob.”

As soon as you reached the floor you blinked up at the men watching you, raising a brow slowly when Steve didn’t move. “So are you ready?”

“Yep. Yes. Yep.” He said quickly, rummaging around his pockets for his keys, and then realising they were in his hands the whole time. “Lets go.”

“Be home before eleven!” You heard Bob yell, his words just carrying into the night before you managed to slam the front door shut.

After the initial awkward meeting at your door, and Bob shooting unconvincing daggers at Steve as he guided you towards his car, the rest of the date went smoothly. You had been out with boys before; middle school crushes that took you to the ice cream parlour in town, and letting your best friend rope you in for a double date with a boy you had never met - but nothing like this.

As the car lulled through the streets, any unease forming quickly uncoiled between the two of you, and it wasn’t long until you were both in stitches. It felt so natural and easy, and you found yourself wanting to know everything about the hazel haired man sitting next to you.

You ate at a diner just outside of town, because according to Steve: “they have the best strawberry milkshakes - ever. I swear they’re like crack.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Harrington.” You had said, shooting him a million dollar smile over your shoulder. He was glad that you walked in first, because it felt as though a bullet had soared through his gut.

——————————————————————-

“I remember the milkshakes.” You said. Steve looked down at you, curled up on his lap. He nodded at your words, thinking of summer days and winter nights snuggled up in your booth at the diner. You must have shared hundreds by now, drinking such an obscene amount of the sweet treat it was a surprise neither of you looked like a strawberry. You had ruined the fruit for him. He couldn’t take a bite from a strawberry without remembering the taste of your lips or the sound of your laugh, it was conditioned into him like he was one of Pavlov’s dogs. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it, strawberries had become his favourite fruit.

“I told you those milkshakes were great.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He could feel you wobbling under him, could feel the heart wrenching tremor of your body starting to shake with tears and he swore internally, trying his best to distract you again.

“And then we watched Ghostbusters.”

You let out a half hearted laugh. “And you almost shit yourself when you saw Slimer.”

“He popped up outta nowhere!”

“And then you spilt popcorn everywhere.”

“Yeah, that old lady was pissed.” He clicked his tongue at the memory, crumbs and melted butter flying everywhere, the entire row in front covered in his mess and glaring at you both, you laughing so hard into your sleeve you thought you might just pass out.

“And then I drove you home - way before curfew I might add - because I’m a gentleman.”

“And then you kissed me.”

“I think you’ll find you kissed me.”

“Ha.You wish.”

It felt good to hear the bite back in your voice, and it warmed him like a zap of electricity that his plan of distraction was working.

Besides, it was partly true - you had kissed him first.

That night as he pulled into your driveway, his gut felt like a huge boulder inside of him. There was nothing more that he wanted then to lean over the console and kiss you, but he was too goddamn nervous.

The date had gone so brilliantly, and he could feel himself, tripping, stumbling and falling completely head over heels for you, but he was so uncharacteristically anxious that it was kind of freaking him out. He was getting all worked up about things he had never thought of before, like his teeth clashing against yours, or accidentally knocking your heads together and giving you a mild concussion.

He left his car running, because he didn’t want you to be cold, (and the constant vibrations were good at hiding the tremor in his legs). It was fully black outside, the night sky a long stretch of navy and the stars were pretty but not nearly as pretty as the girl smiling at him in the passenger seat. Just as your eyes connected and he thought he was going to finally kiss you, the porch light turned on, a nice little reminder from Uncle Bob that he was still watching. You laughed exasperatedly and reached over, filling the distance between you as you tried to grab the strap of your handbag and Steve leant over to give you a hand with the sticky door, but instead your lips caught his and he froze in place, his eyes closed and his heart feeling like a jackhammer in his chest, all of his worries evaporating behind him like ocean spray, because suddenly everything felt right.

“Night, Harrington.” You had said smugly, leaving him in his car that suddenly smelt like cotton candy and coconut shampoo, and with an entire carnivals worth of fireworks erupting from his stomach.

————————————————————

“When I got inside he pretended he had just woken up.” You said now, your words coated with tears but laced with tenderness. “Tried to act like he wasn’t staring through the window watching us kiss.”

Steve tangled his fingers through your hair, anchoring the two of you together, hoping that the small action would give you at least some comfort. He mulled over all of the memories the two of you shared, picturing them shattered at his feet like shards of shimmering glass. He wasn’t sure how to comfort you and it hurt, the silence settling around you like thick, poisonous gas.

“What about our first anniversary? The first time we committed a felony.”

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Yeah and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time either, you little criminal.”

He remembered when you went out to a much too fancy restaurant in the city. How angelic and beautiful you looked in a little sundress and heels, stealing the breath right out of his lungs whenever he looked at you. How even when he was out of his comfort zone you felt like home, always making him feel stable no matter where he was. He remembered those glances you stole at one another, tongue in cheek laughter and suppressed smiles at the strange place you were both in, the two of you sticking out amongst the older, richer and snootier couples like a sore thumb.

He remembered the glint in your eye and the look on your face, the one that had him completely wrapped around your little finger - (but really, you could look at him anyway and he was a complete goner). It was how you both stood up at the same time, grabbing your handbag and wallet and rushing through the sea of people, laughing loudly as he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you with him, dodging the doorman who was cursing loudly at the kids who had just dined and dashed, even though neither of you had had more than a mouthful of your overpriced starter.

“You are such a bad influence, (Y/L/N).” He had scolded, playfully pinching the inside of your thigh as you lay stretched out on a picnic blanket overlooking the forests on the edge of town. You swatted him away, and he felt his breath hitch at the sight of you, hair tousled and makeup slightly worn, so effortlessly beautiful beneath the headlights of his car.

“Oh, please Hargrove. You would be lost without me.”

He didn’t reply, because it was true.

Instead he leaned over your body, stealing a quick kiss and also a handful of fries from the drive thru bag next to you.

“Hey!” You whined, leaning up and swatting at him. “Those are mine!”

“Technically, technically,” He said, licking salt from his fingertips. “They were at the bottom of the bag, not in either of the cartons - so they were never really yours.”

You rolled your eyes, punching him softly in the gut and laughing as he collapsed on top of you. “You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass.”

He ran his tongue over a canine, finding clarity in your eyes.“I can’t believe you’ve put up with me for a whole year.”

“Me neither, but the money your dad gives me to go out with you makes it worth it.”

His finger trailed along the bridge of your nose, his lips curling the same as the path his fingerprints followed. “Stupid.” It was a terrible comeback, but when you looked up up at him like that, all of his sentences spilt into a bowl of mismatched alphabet soup. He blinked down at you, feeling the way his heart hammered against his rib cage, engulfed in the terrifying feeling of being so in love with somebody. “Seriously though, this has - this has been the best year of my life.”

Your rosebud lips parted, showing him that dammed smile that would make him burn down the whole town if you asked him to. “Mine too.”

——————————————————————-

“Remember when I got a black eye because of you?” He murmured, glancing up at the stars that flickered above you both.

“Because of me?” You scoffed, halfheartedly. “Hardly.”

“Ok. Keep telling yourself that.”

There was once a time where he loved nothing more than spending Friday through Sunday completely wasted, waking up on somebodies couch, his mouth tasting like sour liquor and his clothes scattered across the floor - but not after he met you. He used to long for the high from downing tequila shots or jumping into the pool with hazy eyes, a burnt out joint being passed around friends, but soon he realised that nothing came close to the fever high he got from simply being around you.

He remembered sitting in the school parking lot on a Friday afternoon, listening to Tommy and Carol natter about how a group of seniors were going to break into the rec centre and get drunk, but there words were nothing but static as he looked for you among the familiar faces.

You had been officially dating for a few months, and much to Tommy’s dismay, it seemed as though neither of you had any intention of letting the other go. It stung the teenager when Steve started blowing him off to hang out with you, his usual alibi for wild parties leaving him high and dry. He was jealous of the way you managed to consume all of Steve’s attention, and the fact that since the two of you had gotten together, Steve was so much kinder to everyone, and didn’t want to join in with his juvenile antics. When you went to parties, he drank less and laughed more, and Tommy was left doing shots and keg stands alone.

More than anything though, Tommy was jealous that Steve had scored a girl like you, kind and soft and sweet, when he had trouble getting Carol to stay over longer than the time it took to drain a bottle of stolen wine. It made him feel envious and insecure, watching the way you kissed Steve in the hallways with rosebud lips and your eyes shone like diamonds under the gentle sun; when was a girl going to look at him like that?

“You coming tonight, Harrington?” He asked from the hood of Steve’s car, his legs dangling onto the asphalt.

“No.” Steve said, chewing on his fingernails. “Sorry man, I’m taking (Y/N) to the drive in.”

“Aww.” Carol preened, a solid supporter of your relationship. You hadn’t known her too well before you started seeing Steve and hadn’t expected to become so close to her, but now she was one of your best friends. Sure she could be a little vapid and a little rude, but she also made you laugh loudly and always helped you get ready for dates with Steve, and you really appreciated the way she let you into the inner circle. “That’s so sweet. You guys are too cute.”

Tommy ignored her. He could already feel himself boiling over.

“Cmon Harrington, it’s one night. It’s tradition.”

“No it isn’t.”

He exhaled loudly. “Well it should be.”

“I’m good, man. And besides, we’re still going to see the Bulls play on Saturday, right?”

“I guess.”

Silence settled around them like cigarette ash. Tommy, growing more irate by the second, toyed with the collar of his shirt and curled and uncurled his fingers. He wasn’t quite sure why he was pissed - as Steve’s best friend he should have been pleased with how love struck and happy he was, and it wasn’t as though he never saw Steve anymore, or that you had split up the group or anything - but he was still annoyed, and that’s why he said it.

“God, I hope she’s a better fuck than she looks. I mean, she must be if she’s got you this whipped.”

It took a moment for Steve to process what he had said, swallowing his friends words like they were barbed wire, his throat filling with blood.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Just what everybody else is thinking.” It wasn’t what everybody thought, but Tommy thrived off of mob mentality, and the small crowd watching in the parking lot was enough to spike his adrenaline.

“Tommy.” Carol warned, her voice thick and heavy, eyeing him from over the roof of the car.

“What did you say about her?” Steve asked, his face turning crimson, the shade matching the colour coating his pupils.

Tommy didn’t hold back, his hands firmly grasping his shovel, ready to dig himself deeper. “Jesus. Look at you! Look what she’s turned you into. She’s a bitch, and so are you.” He gestured wildly with his hands, the severity of what he had said was slowly sinking in, but he was stupid enough to stand by it for the time being.

Steve was livid. His body rattling like he had been struck by lightning. He knew he wasn’t some fucking white knight who had to defend your honour, but there was no way in hell he was going to let some fucking prick about you like that.

“And…you know what? The both of you can - ”

“Fuck you.” Steve brought his fingers to a fist and clocked him right in the nose, a sickening thwack echoing around the school. Tommy recoiled backwards, almost falling through the windshield. He managed to regain his balance at the last second, and his face was contorted with both pain and disbelief.

“What the fuck man?” Tommy seethed, spitting out a wad of blood and lunging at Steve, managing to grab him by his collar and slam him onto the asphalt, their jeans ripping across the gravel.

The two of them rolled around, a deadly mix of closed knuckles and crisp white sneakers. A small crowd had gathered around the two of them, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and rich with stories to be shared around the party that night. They both managed to get a couple good hits in, Steve just managing to get the upper hand before the school janitor started calling in for backup.

You had just left World Civ, your textbooks still cradled in your arms and your best friend laughing in your ear as you made your way out of the school and towards the parking lot.

“Yeah, I swear! She…” Your best friends voice trailed off as she noticed a blur of movement in the distance, her ears picking up like a bloodhounds. “Oh my God. I wonder what’s going on.”

You looked up shrugging your shoulders, expecting to see some of the wrestling team or soccer players roughhousing like they usually did, but your blood turned cold when your eyes focused fully and you caught sight of that damn perfect hair.

“Holy shit. Steve!��

If only your phys ed teacher could have witnessed the speed you ran across the car park; dust picking up with your shoes as you bolted towards your boyfriend. You managed to break through the inner circle crowding around them, the teenagers egging on Tommy and Steve as they scrambled towards one another, the sound of elbows and knees and fingernails clashing all around you.

“Hey. Hey! That’s enough!”

Poor Mr Springer tried his best to separate the two of them, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist and trying to tear them apart as they continued scrapping like junkyard dogs.

Your mouth was agape as a couple of boys helped break the two of them up, your eyes widening at the scarlet red blood staining the ground and the deep purple bruises already starting to show. You managed to catch Steve’s line of sight, his eyes widening at the sight of you, his face starting to swell.

“Steve? What the fuck!”

“Oh! Hey, babe? How did your pop quiz go?” He asked, throwing you a dazzling smile as though everything was right in the world.

Despite everything, you bit back a laugh, kneeling down to wrap your hands around him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” You said, cradling the now puffy side of his face, a quarter sized apricot indent growing under his eye.

He winked at you as he was pulled away and dragged to the principal. He knew he was in for a months worth of Saturday detentions, but he couldn’t care less. He avoided the death glare his former best friend was giving him, licking the blood pooling across his split lip.

If he had to chose between you or Tommy, or choose between nights in with you or nights out with the rest of the seniors - hell, if he had to choose between basketball and you, it would be you, every time.

Point blank, period.

———————————————————-

There was a chill in the air, swallowing the both of you whole. Steve could feel his jeans dampening, your tears cascading down your face and onto his denim. He could feel eyes on the back of neck, and knew without turning around that Dustin and the rest of the kids were watching from the kitchen window, waiting to jump out and rescue you both if something crawled out from the bushes.

He didn’t have much time left. Soon he would have to bring you back inside, away from the vulnerability of the night and into the embrace of those you had grown so close to. He thinks back with a grimace, to the fight you had over your new routine.

Bob and Joyce dating came as a shock to everyone involved, especially Steve. Not so much that Bob had found companionship with the pretty single mother, but more so that it meant you were spending more time at their house - with Jonathon.

He wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

No matter how many times you rolled your eyes and teased him - he wasn’t jealous.

He just didn’t like the idea of you sat next to him at movie nights, laughing with him during family board games, eating breakfast in the chair beside him, driving to school together and singing along to the stupid obscure bands that Jonathon liked.

Ok maybe he was a little jealous. Sue him.

He’d spent the night at your place, under the guise of helping you with your calculus homework, even though you had a higher grade than him, and he watched with sleepy eyes as you rummaged around your desk in the morning.

“What?” He mumbled under the slowly rising sun, half of his face still buried in your pillow. “What? Where? Where are you going?”

You rifled through your handbag and examined the contents, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Bob’s taking everyone out for lunch - well it should have been breakfast but someone - ” you emphasised with a playful glare, “Is making me late.”

“Whose going?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“You know. Me, Joyce, Jon and Will.”

Jon.

“You didn’t tell me Jonathon was going.” He’s not sure if it’s true. He remembers fragments of you telling him your plans for the weekend, but he also remembers your words shattering before they reached his brain, because of that little strappy top you were wearing and the blackberry colour of your lipstick.

“What?” You asked distractedly, untangling your headphones from your Walkman. “I did.”

“No.” He clicked his jaw, a sign of his annoyance. “You just said Bob was taking you out.”

“With everyone - everyone includes Jonathon.”

“Right.” He’s pissed. His anger isn’t directed at you, more so the floppy haired teenager you’ll be sharing pancakes with, even though it’s not exactly his fault either. “Since when did you guys become The Brady Brunch?”

You let out a dry laugh, oblivious to the fact your boyfriend was getting more agitated by the second.

Did you really have to wear that skirt? He thought. Why did it have to be the short little denim one covered in cherries that made you look so damn good?

“You know how much Joyce loves her kids, Bob just wants to make an effort.”

“Yeah but why do you have to go?”

You shrugged, applying a swipe of lipgloss and tightening your cardigan in an effort to hide the hickeys blossoming under your collarbones. “He invited me, said it’s a family thing.”

“It’s not as though you’re really family though is it?”

He regretted it the moment the syllables left his mouth, but he was too wound up to think before he spoke. He cringed at the way you lost his gaze in the mirror, really fucking hating himself when he saw the crimson blush rise from your throat and onto your cheeks, and the sheen coating your eyes.

“I should go.”

You didn’t hesitate, grabbing your belongings and darting down the stairs. Family had always been a sore subject for you, and he loathed himself for striking you in the one place that it really fucking hurt.

“Wait.. Baby I -” He chased after you, but you were too fast. He wished that you would stay and argue with him, he’d let you scream and yell and shout at him, because he deserved it and he wanted to let you know he was sorry for being a prick, but you were already out of the door.

“Just up when you leave.” Were the last things you said, disappearing into your car.

He apologised with your favourite chocolates and red roses and an attempt to make you dinner. You couldn’t stay upset with him and his sheepish grin even when half of your kitchen was covered in tomato sauce and your moms pan was coated in burnt pasta.

The boy could screw up, but he always knew how to make up for it.

He trusted you, and loved you, and apologised for - in your words, ‘being a class A jackass’ - and even put away his pride long enough to tell you that, Ok, fine, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous of Jonathon and the bond growing between you.

That night as you curled up on your living room floor amongst an abundance of pillows and crocheted throws, you reassured him that you were in love with him and only him, even when he drove you up the wall. He fell asleep a little easier that night, his girl happy and safe in his arms, your words calming the storm that was once brewing in his mind.

…And maybe Jonathon wasn’t that bad.

———————————————————-

The light of the moon was harsh, almost like the street lamps that flickered in the distance. Steve could feel you moving underneath him, and his palms were starting to dampen, the reality of the evening finally sinking in.

Bob was dead.

As though the same thought had passed through you, you spoke, your voice strained and quiet. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know.”

Your voice cracked like thin ice. “He didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t… He.” You choked on your words, and Steve pulled you into him firmly, as if to stop you from falling apart.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You sniffled, a sob tearing through your lungs and clawing through your throat, and you tried desperately to not think about your poor uncles lifeless body. “What am I going to do without him?”

You weren’t looking for an answer, but Steve gave you one.

“It’ll be me and you, it’ll be us. Forever.”

His future was uncertain. He was under a mountain of pressure from his teachers and coaches and guidance counsellors to get his head down and decide about college and scholarships and what he was going to do with his life.

He even took one of those quizzes that was supposed to help him figure his shit out, but when he sat there, pencil in hand and he read the words - where do you see yourself in five years? The only thing he could think of, was you.

He thought of you, so smart and pretty, your future just as undecided as his, but still by his side. He could see road trips and night drives and long distance calls, he could see morning laughter and monumental arguments and make ups, in the distance he could even see a house with a white picket fence and a big dog and a few kids who looked like a mixture of the both of you.

It seemed so simple. So much more simple than applying for college or an internship, because he knew that whatever he did, he wanted it with you.

And then this crazy fucking year happened, and things weren’t so simple anymore. Soon he was best friends with a bunch of pre teens and fighting off big scary fucking monsters and Billy Hargrove. Soon his small world of basketball and strawberry milkshakes and tongue kisses was filled with danger, and he needed to keep you safe.

“I miss him.”

“I know.” He says honestly. “I miss him too.”

He remembered the last conversation he had with Bob. It was before they found Hopper underground, and Bob was getting ready to leave and see Joyce and Will. You were in your room, finishing off the last of your homework, and Steve was heading downstairs to finish off the last of the pizza. He had just grabbed a Coke and a slice of pepperoni, when he saw Bob rummaging through the cupboard in the hall.

“Hey,” Steve said, waving the hand with the soda in it. “I heard about Will. Is he alright?”

Bob gave a kind nod. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “Well, actually, I’m not sure. I’m uh - I’m looking for my old board games for him to play with.”

Steve smiled, because that was exactly the thing Bob would do. “Well, give him my best.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Steve spun his heel to rejoin you upstairs, taking a big bite of melted cheese as he walked, before Bob spoke aloud once again.

“There’s something strange going on in this town.”

Steve remembered the year before, standing in Jonathan’s living room, twinkling Christmas lights draped on the wall and a baseball bat in his hands. He remembered Barb and Will, and the body from the quarry.

“Yeah.”

Bob exhaled, moving so that he was standing face to face with the teenager. “You make sure nothing happens to her, alright? You know she’s - you know she’s my little girl.”

Steve straightened, his voice solid. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

“I know. You’re a good guy, Harrington.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees, but he knows that for you, he will be.

“Take care of her.”

“Always.”

And they had partied ways: Steve upstairs, where he pulled you into his arms and made you laugh as he planted wet kisses on your face. And Bob to the Byers house to find a map spanning the length of the walls, and then the hospital, and then ultimately, to his death.

———————————————————-

The dark felt much more menacing now, shadows moving like long fingernails and jagged claws around you. He knew that he had to get you inside. He knew that the others would be making plans and setting traps and he knew how much safer you would be there. His heart was shattered after the small sobs leaving your body, your chest deflating like a burst balloon. He also knew that the best people to comfort you would be inside, Joyce with her motherly love, Dustin with his sweet, silly nature, and even Jonathon who truly loved you like a sibling.

“Cmon, lets get you inside.”

He wrapped his hands around you and helped lift you up, steadying you as you swayed on shaky legs. He cradled you into him, feeling the warmth of your breath and tears against his throat, and he inhaled, preparing himself and readying himself, telling him to be strong, for you.

He wrapped a free hand around the door handle, waiting to twist. He took one final look at the menacing bushes and trees surrounding you both, listening for a rustle from the branches.

He doesn’t know what will happen next. But he does know, that whatever it is, you’ll face it, together.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagines #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things oneshot #\#strangerthings #stranger things headcanon #steve harrington headcanon

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penpatronuswhump · 4 years ago

Photo

WHUMPTOBER 2020

No.16

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee: Tony Stark

Caregiver: Steve Rogers

Title: Fight Back, Tony

By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO

Like a furnace.

Tony felt like he was burning alive in a furnace. He woke up clawing for the ceiling and walls, and scooting backwards fast as he could, convinced that he’d been put in feet first and the only way out was behind him. His hands collided with something solid and he pushed off it. His head butted against something behind him and the impact hurt so much that his entire body briefly froze before seizing. The heat increased. “I’m burning – I’m burning!” he gasped. Tony felt sweat pool on his eyelids. He realized, then, that his eyes were closed, and he opened them, expecting to see furious flames surrounding him. Sweat splashed down into his eyes and he had to blink to see through them, through the burning, through the haze, through the confusion.

“Hey. Whoa, hey,” a voice whispered. “Tony. Tony, look at me.”

Tony’s eyes darted everywhere. He saw prison bars and blank concrete walls. He saw the moon outside a small window. He saw empty cups and plates and used forks and spoons. Then, a face blocked everything out, forcing him to see it and it only. He looked into the person’s eyes and recognized them. They were safe eyes.

“Steve,” Tony grunted softly. “Steve, I’m burning.”

“Shhh, Tony, you have a fever. It’s just a fever.” Steve pressed a dirty piece of cloth to Tony’s forehead, to his cheek, to his chin. “You got hurt, remember? The wound’s infected.” Tony tried to sit up, but Steve pushed him back down. His head was lying on the inside of Steve’s knee. Embarrassed, Tony tried to roll away, but Steve righted him again. “Easy.”

Tony relaxed. “My head. My… My stomach.”

“I know.” Steve stopped Tony from touching his wounds. “Tony. Tony, I need you to listen to me for a minute.”

Tony squirmed. “God, my head…”

“Tony. Tony, please.” Steve patted his cheek. Tony looked at him. “We’re in trouble here,” he said. “Big trouble.”

“I don’t – I don’t even remember…”

“And I need you to swear to me that you’re going to fight. Fight the pain, fight the fever, fight the delirium. Fight back.”

“How did we even – where are we?”

“Doesn’t matter. You just focus on staying alive, all right? Leave me to handle everything else. It’ll be ok.”

“Ok. I trust you, Cap.”

“That’s my man.”

“Should I… I should probably stay awake…”

“You probably should,” Steve agreed. “Tony?”

Tony was already unconscious.

---------

Like boiling water.

Tony felt like he was burning alive in boiling water – under the water. He woke up stretching and circling his arms like he was swimming. He had to get to the side of the pot before his skin burnt off. He kicked his legs, arched his head up so that he’d get air as soon as possible when he breached the surface. He must have found the side, because something solid connected with his body and his stomach suddenly erupted in pain. Tony screamed, but heard barely anything more than breath. Hands grabbed his wrist and he fought back, convinced that they were pushing him deeper into the water. But, he had no strength. The hands were strong, and he was drowning and burning at the same time…

“TONY!” a voice cried. Tony’s eyes flew open. Natasha. Nat was there. Why was she there? Why was she… Was she crying?

“What’s wrong?” Tony rasped.

“Oh my god, you’re awake,” Natasha gasped. She placed his hands on his chest and intertwined their fingers. “Hey, Stark.”

“Nat, what’s wrong?”

She snorted and shook her head. “I’m, um, just having a rough day, Tony.”

Stark looked around. He was still in the prison cell. “Where’s Steve?”

Nat’s facial expression briefly flickered. “He’ll be back soon. He’s fine.”

“You were the best liar I knew until now,” Tony whispered.

Nat looked down at their hands, and when she looked up the tears were thicker. “They took him. It’s been a day. I – I don’t know what they’re doing to him.”

“Is he awake?” came a voice further away. “Holy shit—” Clint appeared. His face was dusty and dirty, and blood had dried beside his eye. “Stark, man, thought you’d never wake up.”

“Hey, Barton. You look like shit.”

“Look in a mirror, brother.” Clint’s nose crinkled. “Then again, maybe not.”

“That bad?”

“You look like Gollum if he was drowned and left to die in a pile of dog shit.”

Tony chuckled, and the pain multiplied in his head and stomach. “Oh, wow, oh…”

“Don’t make him laugh,” Nat snarled at Clint. “Do we have any water left?”

“Yeah. Steve put his aside for Tony.” Clint disappeared from Tony’s vision, and then reappeared with a tin cup. Natasha took it and held it to Tony’s lips, depositing just a few drops. Tony suddenly realized he was dying of thirst. He reached his hand up, tipped the cup and took several gulps. “No, wait—!” Natasha ripped the cup out of his hands, but it was already too late. Tony suddenly rolled to his left and vomited liquid and bile up.

“Oh, God,” Tony coughed.

Something metallic rattled nearby. The three Avengers looked up to see a guard unlocking the cell door. Clint tried to get there in time, but he missed catching Steve, who was tossed inside. “I’m ok, I’m all right,” Steve insisted in a broken voice, waving Barton aside. He got to his feet and limped over to Tony. Like Clint, his face was dirty and there was caked blood all over it. He knelt beside Tony and offered a smile. “Told them you’d wake up.”

Tony’s eyelids felt heavy. “Not for long, I think,” he admitted.

Steve nodded. “It’s ok.”

“Is it…?” Tony coughed. “I’m fighting, Steve, I promise.”

Steve took Tony’s hand. “I know. Keep it up. I’m proud of you.”

On Tony’s right, outside of his imagination, beyond his hallucinations, the real Steve Rogers watched, distraught, as Tony carried on conversations with his teammates who weren’t there. He didn’t know what to do – interrupt the delusion? Would that distress Tony too much? Make him doubt anything was real? Steve sighed. He leaned his cheek against the cell wall. If the hallucinations brought Tony any sort of comfort, maybe the responsible thing was to leave him inside them.

Steve put his face in his hands.

---------

Like he was buried in snow.

Tony felt like he was six feet under, and that six feet was full of snow. He was shivering so fast, so fast. He woke up in Steve’s lap again and could barely get a word out between the clicking of his teeth. His head felt a swollen, throbbing entity separate from his body. His stomach rumbled with emptiness, yet felt heavy and bloated and so very, very painful. Like there was a bear trap around his abdomen.

Steve was speaking to him. His frown was deep. Tony couldn’t hear, but he recognized the shape of his name on Steve’s lips. “Tony, hang on,” Steve seemed to be saying. “Hang on, hang on.”

Tony’s entire body shuddered. It felt like the fluid in his very eyes was frozen. The sweat that covered every inch of his skin felt like little icicles. “I’m trying,” he tried to say. “Steve, I’m trying.”

Tony summoned all the “him” that he had in himself, and told his body to persevere. He gave it no option. Hang on, hang on, hang on.

----------

Steve stared at the small rise and fall of Tony’s chest. It was mesmerizing, like watching ocean waves. His heartbeat was a little hypnotizing, too. Steve had barely stopped feeling at least one of Tony’s pulse points at a time. It seemed too slow, but it was steady as a clock. Until…

His heart skipped a beat. Steve shot up into a sitting position from lying on the floor beside his friend. He rearranged his middle and forefinger to make sure he was getting an accurate reading. The pulse continued for another minute, and then it suddenly did a double skip. “Behave,” Steve growled at Tony’s heart. Stark’s face was so, so very pale. He needed a long shower to wash the dried blood out of his hair. And the makeshift dressing Cap had made from his own uniform had turned dark maroon around the wound in Tony’s stomach. The fever kept rising. His breaths seemed to be more and more difficult to breathe.

Flashing lights from outside the cell—

Steve looked up. The lightbulb above flickered. A second later, he heard thunder.

Cap grinned down at the wheezing Tony. “Almost home,” he promised him. “They’re coming for us.”

----------

The thermometer beeped. Steve took it out of Tony’s mouth and announced, “99.8. Almost there.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to let me out of this bed until I’m 98.6, are you?”

“Maybe not even then,” Steve threatened. He put the thermometer on Tony’s bedside table and sighed. “Maybe I’d let you out if I wasn’t so sure you’d spend a solid 24 hours in the lab.”

Tony sat up higher in his bed and rearranged his sheets. “How about we compromise. I’ll only spent 20 hours.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He put his fingers against his temples. “98.6, Tony. For me?”

The request caught Stark off guard. He slinked backward into his pillows. “Fine. For you. Because you kept me alive in that hellhole.”

“Oh, no.” Steve took some gauze off the bedside table and gestured for Tony to turn onto his side so that he could replace the bandages. “I didn’t do a damn thing. You did that all on your own.”

“Oh, you did more than you know,” Tony guaranteed. “You even sang that lullaby to me.”

“Tony, I didn’t sing you a lullaby. You were hallucinating half the time.”

“I did wonder why it was in tune. You have an awful voice.”

“Super soldier serum can only enhance so much,” Steve chuckled.

“So, was I hallucinating when that goose was tapdancing?”

“You made that up just now.” Steve finished up with the bandages and sat down on the side of Tony’s bed.

A beat passed. “Did I hallucinate you lecturing me and holding my hand half the time.”

Steve blushed. “I may have done that.”

“See? You did help keep me alive.”

The End

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 4 years ago

Note

Gokaiger OT6? Prompt 10?

I have joked in the past about the Standard Issue Sentai Polycule but I feel like there’s sentai polycules in general and then there’s the Gokaigers. Anyway, 10 is a neck kiss, feels like we haven’t had one of those in a while, and this is basically a game of Telephone but with smooching. It’s also a little longer than a lot of the other prompt fics have been.

The weather is good, and Marvelous and Joe spar in the woods. They’ve agreed on no guns today, just swords, and it’s an easy rhythm; Joe will always be the better swordsman, but Marvelous can hold his own. They dance around each other, feint and dodge.

And then Joe pulls a second sword out from behind a tree and Marvelous grins at him and says, “You cheater!”

Joe just grins back and dodges another swing. “No such thing as cheating in a sword fight, Marvelous, you know that.”

Marvelous rolls his eyes and presses forward, and they continue to spar until Joe hits a root and loses his footing. Their swords are locked at the time, so they both hit the ground with a thump, blades tossed to the side just to keep from impaling themselves or each other. That means that now it’s a grappling contest, and in this kind of close combat Marvelous has the advantage. Within a few minutes, Marvelous has one of Joe’s arms twisted up behind his back, and Joe is swearing quietly.

“You gonna yield?”

“No, I can get out of this.”

“You sure?”

“You know I’m sure.”

Marvelous pauses, smirks, cinches the hold in a bit tighter, and then leans forward and kisses Joe in a very particular spot on the side of his neck, murmuring against his skin, “How about now?”

Joe stumbles. “You cheater.”

“No such thing as cheating in a sword fight, remember?”

Joe laughs breathlessly in response. “Ok, yeah, I yield.”

Joe finds Luka in the crow’s nest, as usual, and they stand side by side in silence, leaning against the railing as the sky shades into darkness and the stars come out. There’s a warm breeze, and the air smells very slightly of blooming flowers.

When the sun is nearly gone Luka says, not looking over at him, “So did you want something or did you just feel like hanging out?”

He shrugs. “Mostly I just wanted to watch the stars. I like how quiet it is up here.”

She makes a little “hm” noise and leans against him. “Yeah. Easier to see things right.”

More silence as the sun sets completely. It’s not dark for them, though; the moon is full, the sky is full of stars, and the city below them is full of light. Joe looks down at the top of Luka’s head thoughtfully and then bends and kisses her just behind the ear, which is a relatively easy spot to reach.

“Oh,” she says, “so you’re in that kind of mood.” Which is the sort of thing she’d say if she were annoyed, but she sounds more sly than anything. She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

He shrugs again, smiling very slightly. “Maybe, if you want. The moon’s full. It seemed like the right thing to do.”

Luka and Ahim sit together on the bed, and Luka brushes Ahim’s hair. She does so little with her own that it’s sort of nice to fuss with someone else’s, not that she’d ever admit this in public. When she was young she’d brush her sister’s hair, and braid it in patterns; Ahim isn’t her sister, and she’s forgotten most of the patterns, but it’s still calming.

She pulls the brush through dark waves and realizes that she’s only forgotten most of the patterns. There are still a few simple ones she could probably do. “Would you like me to braid it?”

She can see the edge of Ahim’s smile. “I would like that very much, please.”

“How many braids do you want?”

“Two would be lovely, thank you.”

“Ok.”

Her hands remember what her conscious mind’s forgotten, and after a moment she finds the exact rhythm, the careful lift and twist as she picks up more hair with each cross. It’s not complicated. If she had ribbon, she could work it in. Maybe she’ll do that next time.

Lift, twist, cross. Secure the end of one braid with a piece of elastic that Ahim passes to her. Start on the other side, lift, twist, cross, a simple woven pattern along the side of Ahim’s side.

When she finishes and secures the second braid she leans back and admires her handiwork, feeling pleased with herself, and then kisses the back of Ahim’s neck where the new style leaves it exposed. Ahim giggles. “You’re feeling very sweet today, Luka.”

“Yeah, that happens.” Luka grins at her when she looks back. “Don’t tell the others, ok?”

Everyone’s in the mood for dessert today, but Joe’s not in the mood to make cake, so Doc is showing Ahim how to make chocolate mousse. She holds the bowl for him as he beats egg whites, watching in fascination as they puff up and then holds their shape. “It’s extraordinary, isn’t it, how such a simple thing can change.”

He flashes a smile at her over the bowl. “Watching how things transform is one of my favorite things about cooking.“

After some brief instruction, she folds the egg whites into the chocolate without help, which gives him time to clean the mixer. When she’s sees what he’s doing, she frowns. “Did we not prepare enough eggs?”

“Oh no, no, now we’re doing whipped cream.” He pulls the heavy cream out of the refrigerator and measures it out carefully into a bowl. “That’s what really gives it the right texture. And then later once it’s set we’ll make extra to go on top.”

“Oh, lovely. May I try this time?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

She lowers the mixer in carefully, and he holds the bowl, only letting go once with one hand to add in sugar and orange extract as the cream thickens. The little galley already smells sweetly of melted chocolate; with the addition of oranges it’s heavenly.

“Ok,” he says, once the cream’s the right texture, “you can stop now.”

Ahim lifts the mixer, but her finger stays on the button a second too long; Doc nearly lets go of the bowl as the beaters spin and fling bits of whipped cream into both their faces. Ahim lets out a startled squeak. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I hadn’t intended that to happen.”

“It’s all right.” Doc grins, and then reaches out and swipes a bit of whipped cream off her nose with his finger and tastes it. “You still did a good job.”

“Why, thank you.” She drops a tiny curtsy, and then kisses him--although, since he’s already turning, she hits the side of his neck instead of his face. Fortunately there’s a bit of whipped cream where her lips land. “Oh, it does taste nice, how do we mix this in?”

Doc turns bright red. “I, ah. Like with the egg whites. We fold it.”

She beams at him. “Wonderful, may I do that too?”

“S-sure, I’ll. Get out cups to scoop it into while you’re doing that.”

Gai’s brought more books for them to read for research, and while the scrapbooks are very useful, Don finds that he enjoys the comics a bit more. They make everything seem more exciting, with their vigorous illustrations and dialogue balloons full of exclamation points. What must it have been like, to know that a host of brightly-colored strangers cared about your welfare? To grow up in a world full of heroes?

He doesn’t realize that he’s spoken out loud until Gai, sitting next to him on the couch regluing something in one of the scrapbooks, says, “It felt really safe. It was nice.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No, it’s fine, I don’t need to concentrate hard to do this! Anyway, it’s a fair question. It felt safe. And then...well, then they were all gone at once.”

Gai rarely looks so solemn. It’s a shock to see now, and Don frowns. “I wasn’t trying to bring up painful memories, I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Like that, the solemn look is gone. “How could I be that sad about it when I’m one of them now? We’re carrying on what they all did. That’s amazing!”

Gai’s broad smile is infectious, and Don realizes that he’s smiling too. “I guess you’re right. It’s certainly something.”

“Isn’t it? Oh, are you enjoying the comics, should I bring more? I have more.”

“I’d like that, please.” The smile is too infectious; Don can’t concentrate. And Gai looks like he’s waiting for something else, and it might as well be a kiss, so Don leans over to kiss him--and overbalances, landing on him instead. Which seems as good a reason as any to kiss him anyway, on the side of his laughter-filled throat, which makes Gai laugh more, and that’s always good.

Gai takes what seems to be an unwholesome enjoyment from cleaning, and Marvelous is deeply suspicious of it. With Doc he’s come to accept that it’s just how the man is, but then, Doc also occasionally nags him about being messy. Gai, however, seems enthusiastic about it, and that’s just strange.

Anyway, it’s way too late to be cleaning now, if they’re the only two left in the common area, and Marvelous decides to do something about it. “Will you cut that out, you can finish in the morning.”

Gai bounces to his feet. “Sure, if you want. Oh, which team are you looking at?”

“The card guys, JAKQ? Who’s this guy in the hat over here?”

“Oh, that’s a different hero, not a member of the team. But he looked a lot like Big One. I’ve always kinda had a theory that they were secretly the same person. There’s even a third one who also looks like them, but I couldn’t find a good picture of him.”

“Huh. I didn’t know this planet had other heroes.”

“Yeah, a few, they also kind of...disappeared during the war. I’m not sure what happened to them.” Gai comes over and perches on the arm of his chair, reaching out to tap another picture. “See, that’s the logo for one of them. They’re cool too.”

“You’ll have to tell me about them sometime.” Marvelous looks up at his delighted grin. “They sound interesting.”

“I’d love to. I have another scrapbook about them, I can find it soon and we’ll look at it together.”

“Good.” Marvelous turns the page. “I’d enjoy that. Here, you’re in my elbow room, quit it.” He wraps an arm around Gai’s waist and pulls the other man into his lap, shifting the scrapbook so it’s balanced on his knees. “So what’s the deal with these guys?”

“Well, they were from all over the world.”

“Their suits are goddamn wild.”

“Yeah, the outfits then were really different.”

They flip through pages until Gai’s yawning and Marvelous has to blink to keep his eyes open, and then Marvelous closes the book and stands up with Gai in his arms. “Sleep now. More heroes or whatever tomorrow.”

Gai rests his head against Marvelous’ shoulder, grinning sleepily, and then kisses the hollow of his throat where his shirt’s unbuttoned. “Yeah. Sleep sounds nice.”

#captain marvelous #joe gibken #luka millfy #ahim de famille #don dogoier #ikari gai #gokaiger #fanfiction #anonamouse

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imagineredwood · 5 years ago

Text

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

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila (OC)

Warnings: Sexual content, sad-ish talks of childhood

Word count: 4.7k

**This shit got way longer than I was planning 🤷🏻‍♀️**

“El Padrino is renewing his vows next month.”

Camila smiled and swallowed her mouthful of eggs before answering.

“That’s beautiful. You don’t see many people together long enough to renew their vows anymore.”

EZ nodded and took another bite of his bacon, wiping his mouth.

“It’s not too formal but it will be nice, so you have time to look for an outfit if you don’t have one in mind already.”

Tilting her head, Camila looked at EZ across the table.

“You want me to go with you?”

He gave a laugh and reached for his cup of coffee, eyes still on hers.

“Who else was I going to take as my date?”

Her smile was bright as she shook her head, a playfulness in her eyes.

“No one else. Only me.”

EZ’s smirk was prominent as he put the mug down.

“That’s right.”

Camila wiped her mouth and then stood from her chair, grabbing her empty plate and EZ’s empty glass of orange juice. She walked over to her sink and placed them down, EZ stabbing his last piece of scrabbled egg and putting the fork into his mouth before standing himself. He walked towards Camila, reaching around her to place his dirty dishes in the sink as well, his arms coming to wrap around her waist, holding her to him. He leaned his head forward, resting his cheek against hers and he felt her smile, his face turning slightly so he could look at her.

“What are you smiling about, preciosa?”

Her smile widened and she turned to look at him too, pressing her lips to his cheek and letting them linger before she pulled away.

“You.”

Her words were simple, but they still brought a smile to the Mayan’s face and he pulled away from her slightly, turning her around to face him while she laughed and fought against him.

“EZ, I’m getting soap everywhere!”

She tried to keep her soapy hands towards the sink, but he kept pulling her, suds falling onto the floor and the front of her tank top. She laughed in his arms and so did he, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers, his laugh dying off as they made contact. Camila leaned up into his kiss, raising her hands up and holding them out to her sides, not wanting to get either of them full of the bubbles and water. EZ didn’t seem to mind though, his hands on her hips, trying to pull her in closer to him. His grip on her was strong and all she wanted was to touch him back, rest her hands on his shoulders the way she was used to, and she pulled away from him then, smiling and shaking her finger at him playfully.

“Let me finish these dishes up.”

EZ’s smirk came back and he held his hands up in surrender, taking a couple of steps back.

“Ok, ok. Yes ma’am.”

EZ’s smile stayed on his face and he turned back toward the table in Camila’s dining room, looking at his kutte hanging on the back of the opposite chair. His eyes stayed glued on the leather, the sight solidifying the fact that she really was in this with him. Granted, she may not know the specifics of what went down concerning the club, but she knew enough to worry about his safety every time he was away from her and that proved that no matter how little he told her, he wasn’t going to be able to keep her in the dark, just like his dad had said. He heard the water shut off behind her and he turned back to face her, loving the smile she wore as she finished drying off her hands and stepped toward him. He opened his arms up to her and she stepped into them, this time wrapping her arms around his middle. She leaned forward and turned her head, resting her cheek against his chest, his arms wrapping around her as well.

“Pop was wondering if you wanted to come by the house for dinner tonight.”

Camila quickly looked up at that and EZ saw what looked like anxiety on her face.

“Like at his house? Where you guys grew up?”

EZ nodded as he looked down at her, lifting his hand to run through her dark hair over and over.

“Yeah, baby. He asked me to ask you. He wants to make a nice dinner for you.”

Camila’s smile was soft then, an unreadable look in her eyes as she looked up at him before hugging him again.

“I’ll be there.”

EZ leaned into her some more but the hug only lasted a couple of seconds more before he snatched herself away from him, eyes wide and excited.

“I have to start making something to take with me!”

EZ chuckled as she spun around and then began looking through the pantry, trying to figure out what she was going to make to take to Felipe’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“EZ, come taste.”

He looked away from the TV and towards the kitchen, seeing Camila walking out. His eyes were finding it hard to focus, grazing over her body as she walked towards him. His gaze locked on the curve of her hips in her baby pink shorts, swaying on their own, the olive skin of her thighs smooth and supple. He raked his eyes over her top half then, her black tank top tight against her breasts, her long hair hanging down over her shoulders, almost touching the waistband of her shorts. He looked over her body the entire time she was walking over to him, only the second time he had seen her like this. It wasn’t until she was standing there in front of him that he noticed she was holding a mini cake pan in one hand and a spoon in another.

“Try the tres leche.”

“Oh.”

He laughed softly to himself, sitting up a bit on the couch.

“I thought you meant you.”

Her laugh was light, the apples of her cheeks taking on a slightly red tint as she shook her head.

“No, my cake.”

“OK.”

Camila took the spoon and dug into the mini cake she had made for him, making sure to scoop all the way to the bottom. She took the spoon and then held it out to him, EZ opening his mouth and taking a bite. She pulled the spoon from his mouth and stood back up straight, looking down at him and waiting for his reaction. He gave a nod and she smiled.

“It’s not too sweet, right? It has enough milk? I wanna make sure Felipe likes it.”

EZ shook his head then and reached out to her, hands on her hips as he pulled her into his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs as she settled.

“Es perfecto. He’ll love it, don’t worry.”

With a nod, she spooned out another bite for herself this time and then another, feeding that one to him again. They shared the cake and when they finished, she leaned back, placing the empty pan and spoon onto the coffee table before facing him again. As he looked at her, he could see the playfulness leave from her face.

“Your dad likes me, right? Like really likes me?”

A frown made its way onto EZ’s face, his hands moving from her hips to her back, cradling her now as both of her hands fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

Camila’s eyes took a second but eventually, they drifted up to meet his and he looked at her closely.

“He likes you. He cares for you. We all do. My dad enjoys having you around and he’s happy that you’re in my life, so is Angel. You don’t have to worry about that, ok?”

She nodded and gave a smile then, her hands and shoulders relaxing.

“Ok.”

EZ smiled at her relief and pulled her into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, her bright smile back as she looked at him.

“Should I make something else too?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Camila sat back in her chair as Felipe and EZ stood, heading into the kitchen with the dirty dishes from dinner. She watched as they went in and stood to help them, Angel reaching out to her and nodding towards the back door.

“Wanna come outside with me while I smoke?”

Camila didn’t smoke and she knew that Angel knew that. Reading between the lines, she figured that he needed to talk, and she nodded, following him out to the back. It was dark out, the moon only a sliver in the sky. There was enough light to see each other close up. She watched him as he pulled his pack out of his kutte, taking one cigarette and his lighter out, then putting the pack back, lighting up. He looked over at Camila as he took a drag, opening his mouth and then closing it without saying anything. She wasn’t sure if it was because he forgot what he was going to say, or he just didn’t know how to say it, but she smiled anyway, reaching over to lay her hand on his shoulder.

“You good?”

He nodded and gave a genuine smile, leaning over slightly to push his shoulder into hers.

“I’m glad you’re here. With us, you know. I haven’t seen EZ this happy in a while. Not since he got out at least. It ain’t easy moving to a new place with new people, not knowing anyone. I know it’s different, dealing with him while he tries to get used to being on the outside again and the MC and then me being me.”

He gave a soft laugh and then continued.

“You’ve been good to me and I wanted to say thank you. I know I can be a pain and you never seem to get tired of my ass. EZ’s got his memory thing and he’s so suave so I know it ain’t hard dealing with him but me on the other hand. I know I probably don’t say it enough but- “

He stopped as Camila squeezed his forearm.

“Stop, Angel. Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to thank me.”

She paused for a moment and then looked down before looking back over at him.

“You’re like the brother that I always wanted but never had. Growing up, I was always lonely. All my friends would always complain about their brothers or sisters, saying how annoying they were, how they were always taking their shit, how they wished they didn’t have siblings.”

Camila chuckled quietly to herself and shook her head. Angel looked over at her, brows knitted as he could hear the change in her voice.

“And yet when I was little, I would go to bed at night, I would say my prayers and ask God for one. At least one. I didn’t want to be greedy, asking for a bunch of brothers and sisters or something because I thought then he wouldn’t let me have one. So, I would ask for only one. Ask him to give me a sibling that would annoy me and take my stuff like the other kids had. Then as I got older, I wanted one for a different reason. I just wanted someone that I could count on, that way I knew I’d never be alone. But that never happened.”

Her voice trailed off and Angel stayed looking at her, a deep frown line between his knitted brows as he felt his heart ache for her. She was quiet, lost in her own thoughts as she looked down at the floor and when she finally looked back up at him, he saw the tears in her eyes. She smiled anyway and turned to face him completely, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall.

“You guys accepted me, let me in when you didn’t have to. You showed me love when you didn’t have to. You look out for me and tease me just like I imagined my brother would have, I had one. So don’t thank me, Angel. I should be thanking you.”

The older Reyes brother stayed looking at her for a moment before reaching out to her and pulling her into a hug. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before releasing her, Camila using the knuckle of her index finger to dab at the corner of her eye.

“Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Angel tossed his cigarette down onto the concrete, snubbing it out with the heel of his boot. He turned then and tossed an arm over Camila’s shoulder, tugging her into his side and running his hand along her upper arm as they were heading back inside.

“Come on, EZ said you made a bangin’ tres leche.”

Back inside, Felipe and EZ had finished with the dishes and Felipe was just now pulling her cake out of the fridge, placing it down onto the counter. She smiled as the two looked back at her and Angel, Felipe handing her a knife and plates before turning to get spoons. EZ’s eyes stayed focused on her though, something about her feeling off. He watched as she cut into the cake and took out a slice, using a spoon to drizzle an extra spoonful of the milk over the top of the cake. She handed that first piece to Felipe and he took it from her, heading into the living room with his plate. She did the same for Angel, handing him his plate and he left as well, only her and EZ left in the kitchen now. With concern in his eyes, EZ stood beside her and placed a hand on her lower back, looking down at her as she served him a piece.

“Estas bien, mi amor?”

Camila looked up at him then, a sincere smile on her face and she nodded. She reached up with her left hand, placing it onto his cheek.

“I’m great, Ezekiel. I promise.”

EZ nodded though not entirely convinced, able to see the slight redness in her eyes and he swallowed, praying that Angel hadn’t done or said anything stupid while they were outside.

“Ok, baby.”

She cut a slice for him and handed it to him, then got one for her, both heading to the living room to eat with the others.

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

EZ pulled into Camila’s driveway right behind her, pulling his bike up to the side while she finished parking. He took off his helmet and hung it on the handlebar, looking at her as she stepped out of the car and walked around it, slowly striding to the walkway leading to her front door. EZ hopped off the bike and came to stand beside her, reaching out to take her hand. She squeezed his back and walked up to her front door with him slowly, turning around to face him as she stuck her key in the door and unlocked it. With a nod into the house and a bashful smile, Camila tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I was thinking you could come in. Maybe…spend the night?”

EZ smiled lovingly and nodded, bringing his hands up to grip the side of his kutte as he followed her into her home for the second time today. This morning he had stopped by to have breakfast with her at her request, but something about this felt different. She had asked him to accompany her home when they’d left Felipe’s house and he’s thought something about her seemed different. Now he knew why. He walked into her home and reached for the light switch in her kitchen, flipping it and watching as her humble home was illuminated. Clean, neat, welcoming and smelled like vanilla, just like her. He pulled off his kutte and hung it on the back of the kitchen counter stool while she locked the doors behind them. Turning around she tossed her purse onto the counter and pointed to the couch.

“You can chill, find a movie or something. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be back.”

EZ nodded and leaned down to kiss her as she walked past him towards her room. He kicked off his boots and dropped them by the door before going to her couch and sitting, grabbing the remote. He searched around, not really finding anything worth watching when he felt her hand on his shoulder, Camila walking around the back of the couch and coming to sit down beside him. He patted his chest and she smiled, leaning over to rest her head on him, his arm wrapping around her waist. He moved his thumb back and forth over her side as she rested against him and looked down at her.

“Did anything happen today? While you were outside with Angel?”

Camila shook her head, tilting her head to look up at him.

“Nope. Why?”

EZ shrugged and kept up the motion up his thumb.

“It looked like you had been crying maybe, I just want to make sure he didn’t say anything to make you upset.”

Camila pulled away entirely now to get a full look at him, her brows pulled together in confusion at the slight edge his voice had taken on. When she looked at him, she saw his jaw tense, his teeth clenched in his mouth no doubt. She shook her head again, starting to get an understanding of why it seemed Angel’s self-confidence wasn’t the highest.

“We were just having a heart to heart. He was thanking me for being nice to him.”

Camila kept quiet for a moment, not missing the slight wince EZ gave at her words. Gauging his reaction, she continued.

“I told him how I enjoyed having him around. How I had always wanted a sibling, all that other shit.”

She waved her hand in a dismissive motion.

“I cry easily sometimes, that’s all.”

EZ laughed and nodded.

“Sorry. I just figured you had been upset and I wanted to know why.”

Camila smiled and then sat up, standing and making her way into the kitchen.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

EZ watched her as she walked further into the kitchen, his eyes glued to her ass. He’d been with women since he’d gotten out, but he hadn’t felt a craving like this in a while. Emily hadn’t crossed his mind in weeks, Camila the only thought running through his brain anymore it seemed. He looked back at the tv, trying to get into the show but he couldn’t focus, and he looked back into the kitchen, Camila on her tippy toes as she got the jar of coffee down from the cabinet shelf. He raked his eyes over her, a loose-fitting sleep dress on her body now instead of the tank top and shorts from before. Feeling his jeans seemingly getting tighter, he stood from the couch himself and swaggered his way over to her, coming up behind her. She giggled as she felt his hands slide around her, moving up and down her sides. He pressed his chest against her back, getting as close to her as possible. She turned her head to eye him over her shoulder.

“You happy to see me?”

It took him a moment but then he laughed, grinding into her gently as he leaned forward, his lips against her ear, his voice husky.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

His hands gripped her a bit tighter now, his right one moving to her front and gliding over her tummy. He leaned into her more and kissed behind her ear, moving his lips along the side of her neck until they were on the back of her neck and going down her shoulder. He kissed and kissed, moving along, trying to fine-tune his ears to hear if she made a different noise. He caught the sharp intake of her breath when he got to the middle of her upper back, kissing along her spine. He kissed slower then, savoring the higher pitch of her breathing as he did and committing that spot to his memory. Tonight, he was going to memorize every square inch of her body and what made her tick. He took her long hair into his hand, gently pulling it to the side to expose her back entirely, kissing along the bare skin. His other hand came up to push the thin strap of her nighty down off her shoulder, a quiet whine sounding from her as he sucked on the skin over her shoulder blade. Camila arched her back into him, her arm lifting and her hand reaching behind her, resting on the back of his head.

“EZ.”

The lust and neediness of her voice had him groaning and he reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her, his hands turning her around to face him. She looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her hands running over his chest while hers heaved.

“I really want you, Ezekiel.”

The Mayan nodded, his hands coming forward to grasp hers and bring them up to his mouth, kissing the back of them.

“Where’s your room?”

Camila swallowed and nodded over towards the hallway, her eyes focused on his mouth still.

“This way.”

EZ nodded and released one of her hands, allowing her to lead him towards her bedroom. Walking in, she motioned to the bed and then tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. It didn’t stay there for long though, EZ’s hands on the sides of her head, cradling her face as he pressed his lips against hers. She melted into him and allowed him to walk her backward toward the bed. She sat down when she felt the mattress at the back of her knees, their lips getting pulled from each others. EZ used the time to pull his shirt over his head, a smile coming to his face as Camila’s eyes gazed over his chest and stomach. She blushed when she saw him watching her and bit her lip, EZ reaching down with a smirk, his hands working at his belt. The jingle of the buckle had Camila’s eyes fluttering in anticipation, watching as his jeans dropped down to pool at his feet, only his black briefs concealing him now. He reached down and rubbed himself as he climbed onto the bed with her.

He reached out and placed his hands on the hem of her nighty, tugging at it gently and waiting for her permission. She smiled softly and nodded, raising her arms above her head as he pulled the fabric from her body. He tossed it to the side and locked his eyes on her breasts, her nipples hard as she leaned back. EZ groaned softly and she laughed, reaching out for him. He moved forward and crawled over her, his body hovering over hers as she laid back, her hair splaying over the pillow. His mouth was on her chest then as his hand grabbed hers, holding them and pulling them above her head. Camila moaned as he kissed along the underside of her breast, his tongue snaking out to flick against her nipple. He smiled when her back arched into him and he did it again, suckling at the small bud this time. She whined in the back of her throat then, her hand squeezing his and he spoke softly against her breast.

“Sensitive?”

She nodded and looked down at him as best as she could.

“Very.”

EZ nodded himself and kept the eye contact.

“Good to know.”

He kept his mouth busy on her nipple as his hand drifted down between their bodies, his knuckle rubbing against the fabric of her panties. She didn’t give much of a reaction at first, but her tiny gasp was music to his ears as he pressed his knuckle further, pressing against her clit through the thin material. She whined as he pulled away and he hushed her, sitting up and reaching for the waistband of her panties, starting to pull them down her legs.

“Shhh, patience baby.”

She nodded and pulled her hands down from above her head, holding them together on her chest as she lifted her hips up to help him get them off. Once they were off her body EZ tossed them behind him not concerned with where they ended up. The only thing he cared about at the moment was Camila, her legs spread, her entire body exposed bare to his eyes and he reached forward, running the tip of his index finger over her lips, eliciting both a sharp breath and a slight jump at the contact.

“Please, Ezekiel.”

He wanted to drag it out, tease and explore, learn everything there was to know about her body, but the desperation in her voice, the silent plea for him was too much to ignore. He knew he would have plenty of other chanced to learn her body and find all her weaknesses, but right now she needed him, and he was going to give her whatever she wanted from him.

He shimmied his body down, coming to rest between her legs, his face inches away from her pelvis and he began kissing along her abdomen. He wrapped his hands under her legs, coming up to hold onto her sides as he kissed her hips, his tongue leaving a trail on her skin that made her shiver. His mouth worked down to her inner thighs, getting her ready and taking just enough time. When her hips started pushing towards him and relented and pressed his mouth against her, kissing her clit gently. She sighed as he kissed her pussy with the same adoration, he kissed her mouth, her hands instinctively going down to cradle his head. He moaned into her as she lightly scratched her nails along his scalp and the top of his shoulders. EZ ground himself into the bed, needing some form of friction and Camila noticed, pulling at him.

“I can’t wait anymore, baby.”

EZ’s eyes locked with hers and he nodded, crawling back up her body and pushing his briefs down, kicking them off. Camila’s hands were warm on his sides as she held him, EZ holding himself up with one arm and reaching down to grip himself with the other. Camila smiled and pointed over to the nightstand, EZ knowing exactly what she was trying to tell him. He pulled the drawer open, grabbed a condom from the box and peeled it open, rolling it onto himself. He settled himself back over Camila and took hold of himself, running his tip along her lips, tapping against her clit every time he got back to the top. He spread her wetness and then rested himself against her opening, bring his arm back to hold himself up.

“You ready, querida?”

Their eyes met and she gave a small smile, nodding at him.

“Been ready for like, 3 weeks.”

They both shared a laugh and EZ started to push into her slowly, watching her facial expression. Her laughter died off and the smile was replaced with her mouth opening slightly, her brows knitted.

“Am I hurting you?”

Shaking her head, she squeezed at his sides.

“It’s just…you’re...”

EZ chuckled and nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead before resting his against hers. He pushed again, slower this time and entered her, Camila gasping softly. Her eyes slipped closed and so did EZ’s, his body shuddering at the tightness and warmth of her.

“Fuck, Cam.”

She didn’t say anything, just held onto him, adjusting. He gave her time, feeling her hips move against his and he started to thrust into her gently, cursing quietly. His speed picked up quickly, her hands now gripping his shoulders, her hips pushing up to meet his thrusts. She was used to the thickness of him now, her head lifting up slightly to look down at there they were joined. EZ looked down as well, watching with her as he pulled out then disappeared inside of her, buried to the hilt and she threw her head back.

“You feel so fucking good, Ezekiel.”

He smirked then, his hand going back down to between their bodies, his thumb starting to rub circles over her clit, knowing he wasn’t going to let her sleep until way into the morning hours.

Taglist @caramara3 @lostgirl219 @mrsjaxtellerfan @actuallyazriel @vannabanana1995

#ez reyes #angel reyes #Felipe Reyes #Mayans MC #el destino #mayans imagine #ezekiel reyes #mayans fx

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7deadlycinderellas · 5 years ago

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I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry 3/4

AO3 link

When Arya had last seen Sansa, she had been thirteen years old and full of giggles and sunshine.

She still exuded sunshine, but there were far fewer giggles. She had sprouted up during adolescence, her height making her look all the more regal. The gown she wore was a pale blue silk adorned in gold. It wasn’t as extreme as some of the southern gowns Arya had seen- it wouldn’t scandalize anyone at Winterfell- but Arya couldn’t help but wonder if she was cold.

She seems comfortable enough at supper though, even if Arya swears she can feel her eyes burning into the back of her head.

Margaery is beautiful and friendly, and the kind of woman who always has eyes on her. She is near exactly how Sansa described her in her letters.

It’s after supper, when Sansa corners Arya and asks if they could talk alone. Arya nods and the two make their way to the little solar down the hall from the children’s bedchambers.

When they shut the door behind them Arya turns and asks,

“OK, what do you want?”

Sansa looks offended.

“Can’t I want to privately catch up with my little sister?”

Arya raises an eyebrow. When Sansa’s face remains earnest, she sighs.

“Sorry, I guess I forget how long it’s really been.”

Sansa pokes her on the cheek, and then produces from her waist pocket a piece of cloth wrapping four lemon cakes.

While they’re munching on them, Sansa interrogates her.

When Arya tells her about having met Gendry on the street of steel well before knowing he was any sort of noble, Sansa practically squeals.

“That sounds so like you,” she insists, “Sneaking off and getting in trouble. But finding a bastard prince that way? It’s straight out of a song.”

Arya groans.

“I didn’t know any of that when I met him. He was just a smith and I was just a pest to him. “

Sansa raises an eyebrow.

“And now?”

Arya turns red.

Her embarrassment is interrupted by the door opening and Gendry entering, wide-eyed and frentic.

“Is that other woman you came here with-”

Arya rolls her eyes.

“Margaery Tyrell, you have to try harder to remember.”

“Whatever. She’s staying in the guest house, not near here right?”

Both of Arya’s eyebrows are raised. Gendry sits in one of the unused chairs.

“Cornered me after you left, plied me with questions. She’s terrifying.”

Arya snorts. Margaery looks like she’s studied and practiced every bit of the art of flattery and charm on high born men. No wonder she frightens Gendry.

Sansa laughs softly, and Arya reaches across to rub Gendry’s hand soothingly. She then notices Sansa go stiff, and remembers her insisting that they talk alone.

“I’ll apologize for my friend’s behavior. Southern ladies can be very different from us demure northerners, and the Tyrells are nothing if not ambitious.”

The nature of Sansa’s comment enters Arya’s mind and she feels her stomach twisting. Margaery did indeed seem very forward, and to Arya’s knowledge was still unwed. She spares Gendry a glance, he’s pale and jumpy and she feels a rush of affection. She doesn’t think she needs to fear.

Sansa coughs, and Arya squeezes Gendry’s hand reassuringly.

“I think we’ll head off to be, I’m sure you’ll be safe from her here,” Arya assures him, standing and leading Sansa off so that they’re alone again.

Once they’re in her room, Arya turns to Sansa again. They’re sitting on the end of her bed, and Sansa’s idly digging her fingers into the plush of the fur.

“Okay, what’s on your mind. I could tell there was something up just from your letters.”

Sansa frowns, and looks away. When she speaks, she does not answer the question.

“Your Gendry is quite handsome…”

Arya snorts.

“Don’t tell him, he’ll get a swelled head.”

She’s deflecting, but Sansa is not vexed.

“You like him, that much is easy to see-”

Her voice changes.

“But do you desire him?”

The question takes Arya aback, and she doesn’t know how to respond at first. With the back of her neck pink, she tries not to think of the strange feeling that’s come to sit in her gut whenever she thinks of her marriage, or of the dreams that have begun coming to her after they spend the day together, just talking and laughing.

“I-” Arya’s voice falters, “I don’t know, truly. I’m not sure what desire really feels like? But, when we’re alone, I do wonder what it would be like if he touched me sometimes. I want to know what it would be like.”

Sansa smiles grimly, but doesn’t speak. Arya interrupts her silence.

“Sansa, do you still want to marry Willas?”

Sansa sighs deeply, tucking her knees up under her chin, no easy feat with her voluminous skirt.

“Willas is wonderful. He’s courteous and kind. He’s always interested in what I’m talking about, and I’ve never heard him have an unkind word about anyone. I could spend every day of the rest of my life in his company and be perfectly content. I could probably come to love him, as Mother often speaks of how she came to love Father. But-”

Sansa bites her lip.

“I don’t want him, not as a woman wants a man.”

Arya is confused. True, Sansa had never spoken about lust or desire being involved in her vision of marrying a perfect man, but this is still an odd confession.

“Do you know, Sansa? How it feels? Otherwise, how would you know?”

Sansa presses her chin to her knees and wraps her arms around her shins.

“Yes. I have felt desire. But not for a man.”

Arya’s brain is spinning. She’s heard some about things of this sort, but always in places she wasn’t supposed to be listening. She thinks of what Sansa’s told her before.

“...Margaery?”

Sansa’s nod is so tiny Arya barely notices. When she speaks, her voice is mouse-like.

“When I first got to Highgarden, she was incredibly gracious. She’s Mace’s only daughter, but the whole keep was full of her cousins and daughters of other minor houses from the Reach. I think she realized that with the age difference between Willas and I that I might feel...alienated. “

“She taught me to ride better, took me through nearly every inch of the lands surrounding the estate. She helped me prepare for every ball and every masquerade. She was always surrounded by other girls, but she always made time for just us as well.”

Sansa’s voice has become clipped, as though she is short of breath.

“It was last year, when she was helping me with my costumes for the harvest masquerade. One minute she was helping me fix my hair so it would fit under my mask...the next we were kissing. I’m still not sure which of us started it.”

Sansa’s rubbing her wrists, seemingly unconsciously.

“I remember it started with her hands on the back of my neck...I never knew a person’s neck could be so sensitive…”

Arya’s words have frozen in her throat, so she just lets Sansa talk for a bit. Sansa’s gaze has gone off into corners.

“Her grandmother sent her with me because she’s trying to convince her to go against her father’s advice and seek a betrothal with Robb.”

Arya cocks her head when she responds.

“Do you think she will?”

Sansa sighs deeply, squeezing her knees as if trying to make herself as small as possible.

“I don’t know. It’s so hard sometimes to know what Margaery wants for real. She wears the mask better than anyone else I’ve ever met. When we’re alone...it seems like she wants me then, but it’s so hard to tell otherwise. She’s been being molded for this her whole life, more than we ever were. I’ve seen her charm men as old as our father, and never break, not once. But if she marries Robb, she’ll come to stay at Winterfell and I’ll hardly ever get to see her again…”

Arya is at a loss for words.

“What are you going to do?”

Sansa sighs again.

“Mace Tyrell’s plan was to wed her to Renly Baratheon. She would still leave Highgarden, but Storm’s End is so much closer...and I feel like Renly would understand my pain a bit more.”

Arya crinkles her brow.

“What do you mean by that?”

Sansa snorts softly.

“Renly has often been a guest at Highgarden, but he is not enamored of Margaery. He seems to prefer her brother Loras.”

Arya snorts in response.

“Oh you seem to have found yourself in a mess Sansa,” she says, trying to sound sympathetic. She then rights her face and goes more serious, “You should tell Margaery how you feel. Whatever she does after that, at least you can say you’ve done your part.”

Arya quiets after that, her mind going through far too many things at once.

“Have-” her voice catches again, “Have you ever done more than kiss her?”

She doesn’t even have to look at Sansa to know both of their faces are glowing red. At some point, they’ve both flopped back against the furs on her bed, and she can’t even make herself look at her.

When Sansa breaks her silence, it’s with the same small voice from earlier.

“Quite a bit. Nothing that would- I’m not even sure there’s anything she could do to me to make people question my maidenhead.”

Arya’s shocked, not some much at what she’d done, but what she’d admitted. She still can’t look at her when she asks,

“Any advice?”

Sansa giggles, and they talk into the night. Sansa falls asleep at the end of her sister’s bed for the first time in forever, to the great confusion of the maid who’d been sent to look for her come morning.

The last moons leading up to the wedding are full of all kinds of things Arya dislikes. Seating plans, formal invitation writing, decorations.

And sewing, so much sewing.

“I still don’t see why we need to put so much work into a gown I’m only going to wear once,” Arya complains, when Catelyn accidentally sticks her with a pin.

“You’re soon to be named a princess, Arya, and possibly a future queen.” she chides, “People will expect you to be presented as best as possible.”

“Besides,” Sansa interjects, holding up multiple different colors of embroidery thread against the fabric, “This is the day everyone gets to come and admire you before you have to start the real work. This is the day you should put all of the fuss in, you can be practical every other day.”

Of course Sansa would think of that as a positive, so Arya bites her tongue.

She does refuse the gown being made of the fine silk Sansa had returned with from the south.

“It’s far too cold to wear silk,” she insists, “And the wool is produced here in the north.”

Regardless of marriage conventions, Arya knows she will never stop being a Stark.

In fact, winter is clearly creeping up upon Winterfell. The snow falls heavier and the wind nips and bites at more every day.

Gendry’s blood still hasn’t caught up to the north, and every minute he has to spend outside results in shivering and muttering under his breath. His annoyance makes Arya smile and tugs at her chest in a way she doesn’t understand.

She tries, desperately, to sneak a snowball down the back of his shirt, but alas, he is too tall.

They eventually finish her gown, white lambswool with silvery-gray embroidery, and her cloak, heavy and lined with rabbit fur. They sit in her chambers, existing in the moment only to be stared at.

A moon’s turn before the ceremony, Arya goes to meet Gendry in the forge, and he scampers to cover something up.

She makes a face.

“What?”

Gendry frowns, sheepish.

“It’s not finished yet.”

She noses around a bit more, but Gendry won’t budge.

Two weeks before, one of the guards calls a party approaching from the Kingsroad. Arya feels her laughter spring into life when she recognizes who it must be.

Ned is older, more lined, with more gray in his hair. The years in the capital have taken their toll. But when his daughter, seven and ten and all arms and legs, flings herself at him, grinning, he is as young as he has ever been.

At supper the night he returns, Ned passes a scroll bearing the royal seal across the table to Gendry.

“This is the official decree,” he tells him, “As of the day of it’s writing, you are Gendry Baratheon.”

Arya sees Gendry go very red from across the table, and takes the chance to ask Ned.

“What are they going to do about the queen and her children?”

Ned sighs, and takes a sip of his ale.

“I think I managed to talk him into just exiling the children to Casterly Rock. They have done no wrong-”

Well, the younger two have done no wrong, Arya thinks spitefully.

“But Cersei’s fate is entirely up to him. Even if I was there right now, I don’t think I could stop the blood from flowing.”

Especially with the rumors about the Queen and her brother, that he fought so hard to keep from the King’s ears. He hopes his absence will at least allow a long enough time for the bodies to stop falling. He’s watched for far too long as the man who was once a dear friend be seduced by bloodlust and paranoia.

Gendry manages to excuse himself from the table early, and Arya stares after him.

Bran elbows her.

“You don’t have to try and be so sneaky, he’s just going to work on your wedding present.”

Arya squints at him.

“How do you know that?”

Bran shrugs.

“People say all kinds of things in front of me now. It’s like they think I’m a piece of furniture.”

“Gendry does not treat you like a piece of furniture.”

Bran exhales roughly.

“No, he doesn’t. But he does talk quite a bit about you to family members who aren’t you.”

Bran can’t walk off and leave her confused like he clearly wants to, but he doesn’t say anything else all the same.

Winterfell fills up with both guests and the huge numbers of staff that a lordly wedding requires. The crowds and fires do a great job at keeping the chill away. Things keep piling up and it hits Arya that she’s exactly a week away from being married, and somehow it’s not that, but the beyond that frightens her more.

But it’s a week before that she explodes with joy when the raven arrives with the news she’s spent so long hoping for.

She skips down to the forge where she knows Gendry is. He hastily tucks what he’s working on under a cloth before turning to find out why she’s bouncing off the walls.

He doesn’t even have to ask.

“The Night Watch gave Jon leave,” she tells him excitedly, nearly out of breath, “He’s going to be able to be here for the wedding.”

Gendry smiles. He’s never met Jon, but he can feel Arya’s joy radiating off her. And he knows the way she’s spoken of him over the years, that she still steadfastly calls him her favorite brother, still talks about how much she misses him.

It’s after a long moment, that Gendry realizes she’s still staring expectantly at the bundle on his workbench. He sighs.

“I suppose it’s close enough that I can show you,” he starts, rubbing it with the cloth a bit, “It’s not like I can give it to you in front of your mother anyway.”

Arya cocks her head in curiosity when he pulls back the cloth.

“Oh,” she exclaims, reaching out with one hand to touch the shining metal.

“I know how attached you are to Needle,” Gendry assures her, thinking about what she said about Jon, “But Arya, it’s basically a toy in your hands now. You need something with more heft.”

He reaches and guides her fingers over the design on the grip.

“I did have Bran give me a drawing of how Needle looked though, so I could make it as close as possible.”

Arya is touched, so touched she feels her eyes grow wet. She blinks rapidly to make the tears disperse, and wipes her face with the back of her hand. She can already hear her mother and her septa’s scolding voices going on about princesses not being supposed to carry swords, but right now, right here, in this dirty forge with her intended, not one bit of that matters.

She looks at Gendry’s face, so hopeful. She’s certain that he would never once ask her to stop playing with swords, or befriending the smallfolk, or speaking her mind. In fact, he seemed to welcome these things.

Gendry’s still looking at her expectantly, but his eyes turn a bit shocked when she sets the sword aside and reaches one hand out and gently shoves him until he’s sitting on the bench, his face now nearly at level with hers.

“I love it,” she whispers, voice feeling strangely breathy, “Thank you.”

They’re so close together that Arya’s next move is easy. She’s never kissed anyone before, not for real anyway. Even when she might have had a glimmer of curiosity with one of her male friends from the village, she never said anything. Most might have refused out of fear of getting in trouble for kissing a Lord’s daughter, but Arya suspects some of the others might have refused, then laughed at her, then stopped being her friend. She had never wanted to risk it.

But now? Arya would have admitted for years that she liked Gendry. Affection was something she knew and understood. But desire, what Sansa had asked her about, was something foreign, something she didn’t quite understand.

She wants to kiss him, she wants to know what his skin feels like against hers. Wants to know if that soft scent of skin and soot will stick to her.

She leans forward and closes the gap between them.

Gendry’s lips are softer than she expected. She feels the brush of his stubble against her chin, and that draws a sound from her that she didn’t even realize she knew how to make. Arya’s hands grip the edge of his wool tunic. He reaches up and brushes the back of her neck before running his fingers through her hair and she makes another vaguely embarrassing noise. Turns out Sansa was right about the neck thing.

Eventually, they have to stop to breathe. Arya studies Gendry’s face, her heart skipping a beat when he starts to grin.

Then he sneaks one more kiss to the corner of her mouth, grins even wider and whispers, “Told you you wanted a piece of this,” completely ruining the moment.

Arya rolls her eyes, shoves him back onto the bench and stands up.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she yells over her shoulder. The sword is still on top of his bench.

She’ll find a way to sneak it inside tomorrow.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #gendrya #fic

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riadark · 4 years ago

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When the Anarchy came, things were fearful; however, it quickly devolved into ecstasy. Slaughterhouses were cutting loose all their millions and billions of trapped pigs, chickens, cows, turkeys, lamb, sheep, geese. Homes full of advanced age individuals who had no supports other than The Institution were abandoned and left to fend for themselves and ultimately die. The frail and the unhealthy were abandoned by everyone around them.

We couldn’t afford to be around targets and easy food sources for The Invaders. Our stardust cousins had already decimated their planet with their wonton glut and were coming for us. There was no choice left but to cull the herd, end the religious belief that, “the meek shall inherit the earth,” and praise health, the curation of behaviors that lead to optimal processes, the respect for the fittest in discipline. Because we had to. It was the only way to survive.

Mari was the one who had heard the call from the Animals and the Plants. Mari was the one who brought us the message.

But she was dead. Her sister, Lena was the one to take on her cause. Mari was a godlike figure now and Lena her vessel.

It wasn't hard for anyone to believe. The signs were there. The sightings, the atmosphere, mass hysteria.

And of course, it helped that the Man in charge of getting us to primal health, was the most affable, the most desirable, the most physically fit, the most everything gorgeous and amazing right down to his bulging cock which he used regularly to begin seeding the next gen of demigods to fight the ones who will arrive from the heavens to destroy us, was the person who spoke to the public about the cause.

Yes the losses of those who would have been lost anyway were very sad indeed. But there was no other way out other than to destroy an entire species.

Alex took a deep breath and watched as the panic of those released to defend themselves rushed by him, and couldn’t help himself but think of how amazing the world would be without so much malaise, misery, and mofos.

“Let them eat their last fucking piece of cake,” he muttered.

“Now now brother. I understand your resentment for all of those who suffered for their selfish needs. Do not become a liability yourself with a toxic mind. That too-- is forbidden,” the Leader walked in closer and looked him in the eyes and then grabbed both of his hands and stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

“I know what can cheer you up!” she quickly added in, “Let’s have a baby!” she smiled and looked at him directly in the eyes now.

“Yeah?” he said, “I guess it should be ok. I mean, the Egyptians did it with a very high rate of success. I mean, Pharaoh after Pharaoh and so on.”

“Exactly!” she hugged him very tightly and could feel all the love for him rush into her warm her heart that was now pushing up against his chiseled chest, “I will make the appt. tomorrow.”

She picked up a hen that was squawking nearby and as she moved to get off the street and into her car with the fowl, turned to her brother and said, “And after the meeting, we can have some chicken parm at my place. Sound good?”

He flashed his perfectly white and straight teeth into a half moon and nodded.

And off into the night they went.

#riality

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jewels2876 · 6 years ago

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Sweet Success

Filling a few Bingo squares with this series - I hope everyone enjoys this!

Square filled: Bakery AU - @star-spangled-bingo

Square filled: Who Can Sell More at A Bake Sale - @marvelfluffbingo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, kids Isabella and Rebecca and James

Word Count: 1337

Warnings for this chapter: fluff,

Pics used are not mine!

Chapter One - The Announcement

Isabella stood at your side, watching as you gently laid the fondant over the chocolate cake. You grabbed your smoother and glided it, laying the fondant flat as you removed any annoying hidden bubbles. You mentally patted yourself on the back for the light pink fondant you had created & dyed yourself. While you had been baking most of your life, it was only in the last few years since your husband’s death that you had turned your love of sweets into your own home business. It allowed you to stay home with your girls, Isabella and Rebecca, while still having an income. Of course, business hadn’t always been easy, especially when you had to deal with the baker to the stars, the one and only Steve Rogers.

“Mom, do you think you could teach me how to bake?” Isabella asked as you used an X-Acto knife to cut the fondant away from the bottom of the cake. “It looks like fun.”

You turned a smile to your eldest daughter. Isabella looked so much like her dad; it stole your breath from time to time. The dark hair with the bright blue-grey eyes, his eyes, staring at you with wonder. “Sure! But how about this weekend, when I don’t have a three tiered, chocolate-mocha layered perfection that a current bridezilla demanded?” You chuckled at your own description.

“Awesome!” Isabella pulled up a drawing pad and pencil, opening to the first blank page. “Then we can enter it in the school’s bake sale!”

You turned a sharp glance to your daughter. “What bake sale?”

Rebecca entered and slapped down a bright yellow flyer. “This one! James has been telling everyone at school how he and his dad will be the talk of the town.” Rebecca poked her tongue out at her sister and ran off. You shook your head; if Isabella looked like her dad then Rebecca acted like him, all sass and attitude hiding a big soft teddy bear beneath.

You picked up the flyer and noticed the details for next Friday during the girls’ lunch hour. You considered your current workload and smiled. “Ok Isabella, do you want to do cookies or cupcakes for this?”

Isabella’s eyes widened and she broke into a huge grin. She threw her arms around you in a big hug. “Thank you mom! Can we do cupcakes? And you can teach me how to use a piping bag with the tips? And we can make them all colorful and sparkly?”

Your smile softened at your daughter’s excitement. “I’m not sure about sparkly just yet, but we can do all of those other things! Why don’t you think of a theme or color scheme you want to do? We’ll shop this weekend. You may also want to think about flavors before you consider colors.”

Isabella seemed to be half-listening as she started doodling in her pad. You rolled your eyes with a grin and rolled out the white fondant to start covering your second cake layer.

Steve stared into the distance instead of at the yellow flyer James had handed him. Of course, James had waited until he was on the phone to give it to him. Tony Stark was busy explaining to Steve his vision for the party he was throwing, and the ideas for the cake he wanted were sophisticated and RED. He had rolled his eyes at the request but since he was on the phone with the man himself, he assured his client he was up for the job.

“I’m counting on you, you know,” Tony had said before ending the call. “People are so gaga over you; you need to deliver perfection.” The line had gone dead and he stared at his cell phone wondering what he had gotten himself into now.

“Dad, I don’t think you should do the bake sale this year. Rebecca has been bragging about her mom’s skills all year.” Steve tuned out his son as he considered design options in his head for Tony’s upcoming gala. “Dad. Dad,” James waved a hand in front of his face. “Dad!”

“Sorry! What? Yeah I can do the bake sale again this year; what did I do last year?”

“No, Dad, I don’t think you should do it. You’ve got this big project.”

“Nonsense! Let’s do some good old-fashioned cupcakes and knock ‘em dead!”

The grocery store was packed but you, Isabella, and Rebecca were an efficient team. Rebecca had just run off to grab some confectioner’s sugar while you and Isabella talked flavors. “Mom, I want to do chocolate cupcakes. But can we do different flavor icings?”

You reached out to check the prices on the peanut butter; you had a few ideas but wanted to see what Isabella had in mind. “That sounds like a good plan! It will help keep things simple. What flavors are you thinking?”

Isabella thought for a moment. “Definitely peanut butter! Strawberry. Um… vanilla?”

You chuckled. “I’m with you on the peanut butter! Depending on how chocolaty you want the actual cake, strawberry could be good as well. Vanilla is safe, but also a good choice. What would you think about a mocha-flavored icing? Or caramel?” Your most recent job had received rave reviews; the bridezilla had been over the moon with your chocolate-mocha creation and promised tons of referrals.

A cart careened into yours with a thud. You looked up to see your business rival trying to reach around you. “Can I help you?”

He turned to you as if in a daze. “Thanks but I’ve…Hi.” Steve belatedly registered your cart in his way before noticing it was you. “Y/n Barnes. I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately.”

You stared at the towering blond. Despite the business rivalry, you mentally acknowledged he was an attractive man. You compared him immediately to your late husband: Steve’s eyes were a clearer, brighter blue, but his face was fiercely stoic. Bucky’s smile had always brightened a room; your eyes prickled with tears with the memory, which you quickly brushed away with a finger. Steve would be hot if he would just smile, you thought.

“Mom!” Isabella broke your short reverie. “He just took the last of the peanut butter!” Isabella tried to grab a jar from James’s hands.

“We’ll be ok Isabella. We have plenty of other flavors to make,” you added with a slight tilt of your head. Steve still seemed a bit dazed, while James studied your cart in detail.

“Mocha? Gross! No one these days like coffee,” James smirked at Isabella. “I’m so going to kick your butt at the bake sale.”

Steve finally seemed to come around, taking stock of their own cart. “I think we have everything we need. Come on James, let’s go.” James gave Isabella one more smirk as the two left.

“James is so annoying,” Isabella sighed. “Mom, are you ok? You kind of spaced out there.”

“Yeah, sorry honey. I guess I was a little distracted.” You sighed at the empty display of peanut butter. “James seems a bit competitive.”

Isabella giggled at your honest comment. “He’s SO competitive Mom! You should see him at school; he and his friends are always racing around beating each other to class. And when they’re playing basketball they have to act like… like…”

“LeBron?” you teased.

“Yeah! They are such dorks,” Isabella rolled her eyes.

You chuckled at your daughter. Seems she paid more attention to James and his friends than she cared to admit. You wondered if maybe the two were secretly crushing on each other. You pushed the thought aside as you considered her reaction to the peanut butter instead.

“Izzy, is peanut butter that important to you?”

“I don’t know? I just thought it would be cool to have it, with actual peanut butter M&Ms, or maybe Reese’s Pieces, sprinkled on top,” she said. Your stomach growled at that moment.

Rebecca came back with five bags of sugar and laughed. “Hungry Mom?”

You laughed along with your girls. “Always.”

To be continued!

I would love any feedback/reblogs/love in general

Tag list - see my Masterlist to tag yourself!

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#marvelfluffbingo2019 #starspangledbingo #steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #fluff #bakery au

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its-all-about-harrystyles · 5 years ago

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Creatures Of The Night // Wolf Harry Part Seven - Connection

Hello!

This is my favourite part, just saying ;)

So today I am excited to share with you the seventh part of Wolf Harry which is a collaboration with the amazing @thedevilinbetweenthesheets <3

I will be writing Wolf Harry and she will be writing Vampire Harry. So it’s up to you to choose your side, will you be #WolfHarry or #VampireHarry

The story is set in the exact same location but with two different perspectives. We wanted to give you the choice to decide which version of Harry you prefer, and also what side you were on ;)

Please Reblog and Heart, and feedback is always welcome <3

Wolf Harry Masterlist / Vampire Harry Masterlist / Request / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven /

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Word Count: 3818

Warning: SMUT!! Vampire!Harry is postponed until @thedevilinbetweenthesheets says otherwise!!

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Everything around you is a rush, the events of the full moon and potential new rogue outbreak setting everyone on high alert.

The beeps of the machine beside you would wake you every hour, reminding you that you were indeed in the infirmary due to significant blood loss and deep claw lacerations.

Every time you would inhale a large breath you would cough, the strong scent of antibacterial cleaner invading your senses and burning your nose and throat.

You had been in here for a week, sleeping and waiting for someone to come along and tell you that you could go back into the main house, recover in the comfort of a cosy bed in front of the fire, but no one ever did.

You would have bandages changed twice a day, an occasional blood transfusion if it was needed, toilet breaks, meal breaks and an evening shower, but it was if the doctors were scared to discharge you too soon as if they were under some type of threat.

You feel Harry before he enters the room, the aura around you shifting slightly. Your body tingles and your cheeks heat as the doors open, the connection between you both stronger than ever.

“Honestly H, I could have died here, your taking your time” You call, turning to look at him.

His face is set into a stern scowl as he nears, a doughnut bag and coffee sat in his large hands. He hands them to you and your smile. greedily taking them off him.

“Don’t joke about death” He growls, his tone serious.

“Alright, I’m sorry, what's gotten into your panties?” You question, sinking your teeth into the sugary doughnut with a smile.

“Just the tension, we have a rogue pack moving in from the East, and we’re preparing for the attack with those bloodsuckers anytime now. It doesn’t help that you're in here because I didn’t set up patrol on the South that night” He roars, his fists clenching as he hunches over in his seat.

He lets out a large huff and places his face in his hands, inhaling a large amount of air slowly. You look at him, your mouth still wrapped around your doughnut in surprise. You quickly bite a chunk and throw it into the bag, shuffling your body down towards him.

“Your the reason I’m still in here aren’t you, you threated them” You scream, throwing your legs over the side of the bed. He looks up to you with a confused expression, his hands coming up to hold you in place.

“I may have given them a talking too, I didn’t threaten them” He shrugs, smiling slightly as your cheeks heat.

He loved the way your body reacted to him. Right now he could tell you were annoyed with him because your nose was twitching slightly, your breath increasing the slightest bit and your hands were clenched tightly over the edge of the bed. When you were angry or annoyed he found you the cutest, not that you weren’t cute to him all the time.

“Harry, I want to get out of here, let me come back to the house, I miss your bed, its better than this one and doesn’t smell of horrible sterile liquid” You pout, begging him with your eyes.

“I’ll have a talk with them, see if they think your ready” He smiles, laughing at the defeated expression shes gives in return.

“No, because you’ll threat over the smallest of things, I want to leave, I feel so sad locked up in here” She points,

“Fine, I’ll tell them you can come home” He huffs, standing from his chair immediately. You squeal and throw up your arms, throwing them around in the air as he makes his way out of the room,

“Your the worst” He huffs, turning back to you with a smile,

“But I’m the best” You smile back, excited for the freedom.

The fire crackles as the record player lightly hums in the background. Everything is peaceful and calm and smells so much better than the hospital. It smells of the forest trees and earth, it smells smoky but sweet, it smells of Harry, of home.

You wrap the blanket around yourself harder, enjoying the cosy feeling of the room around you. Harry had lit candles and was now sneaking down to the kitchen to grab a slice of the fresh chocolate cake that the ladies had made earlier this afternoon.

You both knew you weren't meant to have it, it was restricted for tomorrows afternoon tea in the garden which was for the little ones, which you felt bad about, but chocolate cake seemed so good right now, you and Harry just couldn't resist.

The door to the bedroom opens and you turn, your heart racing as you see Harry sneaking into the room with the whole cake. You look at him with wide eyes, a squeal leaving your lips as you leap from the chair and rush towards him.

“you were only meant to take two slices” You goggle, dipping your finger into the chocolate frosting. You shove it into your mouth and lick it off, smiling at the chocolate flavour.

“Yeah but I'm a big boy, one slice just wouldn't cut it, and when I saw it I knew we needed the whole thing” He chuckles, placing it onto the small coffee table that sat in front of the fire.

You follow close behind him, skipping slightly with each step as he passes you a fork.

“Also, it's best we eat with forks. Restrictions on the chocolate cake just aren't what we need” He grins, his dimples poking through.

“I totally agree” You both smile at each other before racing each other for the first bite.

You laugh as Harry's cake falls from his fork, his face filled with shock and horror as he stares to the spot the cake landed. You laugh and shove the piece of cake into your mouth, smiling at him as the chocolate melts in your mouth. This was honestly delicious, pure chocolate and heavenly. After just one bite you were thankful Harry grabbed the whole cake, one slice just wouldn't cut the craving.

“Its good isn't it” He smiles, finally taking a bite for himself. His eyes close right as if he were in pure bliss.

“It's incredible, I will have to get that recipe so I can make it for us in the future” you whisper, taking another bite.

“you think about our future?” Harry questions, his facial expression suddenly curious as you go for another slice of cake.

“Yes. I mean, since you said we were mates I thought it was ok too” you answer nervously, your checks heating as you try to hide your face from him.

“Its more than ok” He answers, reaching to take your hand and give it a squeeze.

You look up at him and smile, your body still hot from embarrassment. You probably looked like a red apple, most likely brighter.

“I think about it too, all of the time” He admits, placing his folk down onto the wooden table.

The fire crackles and spits which causes you to turn and watch the flames dance, the colours swirling together, connecting as one.

You begin to wonder if Harry ever thought of you joining, connecting on another level. You had had many dreams of this, you would often wake up in a hot sweat and need to cool down with a cold shower. It was embarrassing, but you never wanted the dreams to end, they felt so real, as if you were actually with him on another dimension.

When you woke you would smell him on you, feel where he had kissed and touched. It was as if it was true, that you were both acting out, connecting without realising it.

Of course, that wasn’t true, but the dreams, they were too good to let disappear, to suddenly no longer exist. You would most likely lock the dreams away in your brain, revisit them over and over again until you were sick of them, which would likely be never.

“Do you like that I am your mate?” You ask suddenly, turning to him curiously.

“In honestly yes, at first I was unsure if you could handle all of this, but you have shown how strong you are, so I am honoured if not lucky to have you as a mate” He answers, showing his teeth as he smiles,

“And does it not bother you that I’m human?” You ask,

“Well, no. There are ways around that, however, if you should ever not want to be a human anymore” He smiles,

“What?”

You are taken by surprise as you stare at him, your eye bulging as he chuckles. You watch him place another mouthful of cake into his mouth, his eyes practically glistening from the intense chocolate flavour.

“Well you aren’t fully human, you have wolf blood running through you, I could always turn you, it's easy enough” He shrugs, watching your face for a reaction.

You blink rapidly at him, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. He had just told you that you could become a wolf if you wanted too. To you that was massive, it meant you could run like him, be as strong and tactical as he could, it meant you’d be able to live with him, for longer than your human years could ever allow you too.

“And we could just do that, whenever?” You ask,

“Well, we would have to be mated and marked first, but after that, I can turn you, if its what you wish,” He asks back, his eyebrow raised.

“Are you kidding me, I would love too” You squeal, jumping onto him.

You wrap your legs around his waist and bury your head into his chest, inhaling his scent as his body heats yours. You can feel his body vibrating with laughter as he spins you, lying you down on the floor with his body over yours.

You smile at him, your eye twinkling as he slowly leans down and kisses you. You close your eyes and melt, your lips moving with his as his one hand caressing your waist, and the other holds your cheek.

You move in sync, your hands wrapping themselves around his waist as you both get lost in the kiss. Everything around you ceases to exist, your breathing halting completely as you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away, his chest heaving slightly as he rests his forehead on yours.

“We don’t have to do this now we”

“Shut up and take me to bed” You whisper, pulling his lips back to yours.

You feel him smiling as he gently lifts your body from the ground, moving you and placing you on the soft mattress. He crawls on top of you, his hands trailing slowly up your body as his eyes admire your flesh.

You were in a pair of baby pink silk shorts and a cami, the last pretty set you had. From the intensity of his gaze, your nipples harden, your toes clenching into the sheets as he looks at you for permission.

“Don’t ask Harry, I want this too” You whisper, smiling shyly as he flicks the sensitive nub of your nipple beneath the silk fabric. You squirm slightly, looking to see his eyes darkening.

“I’ve never done this before” You whisper,

“I will take my time for you, I promise” he whispers, pressing kisses to your collar bones. You sigh from the sensation, feeling his fingers dance beneath the straps of your cami. They slowly come down, along with the rest of the silk fabric. It lands in a heap on the floor, forgotten for the night.

He lets his eyes roam, his tongue coming out to swipe at his lips as the bulge beneath his joggers grows, You stare down and quickly look away, your cheeks heating as he pulls you back to look at him.

“Never look away, this is for you, over you” He whispers, bringing his lips down to suck at your breast. You arch back at the sudden sensation, your hands coming up to fist at his hair.

You can feel his tongue twirling around, adding pressure to the arrear that was now so sensitive. You whimper and moan as he bites at the flesh just above, leaving red marks across your chest to the next breast.

You watch him as he flicks his tongue out across the next nipple, electric sensations rippling up your spine as he sucks once more at the sensitive nub. His fingers come up and roll the first nipple between his fingers, playing and caressing the flesh beneath his palm.

“You are beautiful” He whispers against your flesh, pulling away to look into your eyes. You can see now that his eyes are pure black, the fire causing them to glisten as he leans down to kiss your lips.

You trail your hands to his stomach and sneak them beneath the cotton fabric, jumping slightly from the heat radiating from his skin. You could feel the muscles contracting as you skimmed up his stomach, your fingers running over his harden nipples until you reached his shoulders. The fabric starts to come off, leaving him to throw it onto the floor as your eyes roam his body.

Of course, you had seen it before, but now, seeing it up close, it was glorious. His skin was tan and smooth, the smallest amount of hair scattered his chest and a small trail escaped down his tummy beneath his joggers, which oddly you found hot as hell.

He leans down and presses his chest directly on yours, his skin warming yours in an instant. He was a lot bigger than you, but it was nice, you felt protected as he pushed himself up slightly on his forearms, his fingers coming up to push back your hair,

“My very own Goddess” He whispers,

You blush, gripping onto his waist a little harder as he begins to kiss at your neck, his teeth grazing the skin. It sent chills through your body, your heart rate quickening with each touch of his lips.

You feel his fingers play with the drawstring on your shorts, his fingertips catching the skin of your stomach occasionally. You flutter your eyes at the small prickle sensation, ragging your nails down the front of his body to his joggers. He grips your wrist suddenly, his lips pressing delicate kisses up your arm.

“You first, I need to prepare you” He whispers against your skin, his eyes sparkling as he places your hand into his hair.

“Just relax, my love”

You feel him slowly pull the silk shorts down your legs, discarding them into the room along with the cami you wore just moments ago. You were now completely bare to him, every inch of your skin exposed to Harry's hungry eyes.

You try to cross your legs realising that you hadn’t shaved in a while, but in return he holds your thighs, spreading them apart. You can feel his eyes as he stares at you, his tongue wetting his lips as he soaks every inch of you in.

He would never forget this view, you looked like a goddess. The fire made your skin glow, accentuating your skin tone perfectly. You had stretch marks and scars and hair, everything that he loved because it meant you were completely natural, beautiful.

“I could look at you for infinity and never get bored” He whispers, his fingers dancing up your legs. You feel him squeeze the fat of your inner thigh and giggle, your hands coming to slap at him.

“You are beautiful, god you are more than beautiful, you are lovely, delightful, captivating, god it's like you stepped out of a god damn painting” He growls, leaning down to feather kisses along your stomach,

“You are better than a work of art, of course, a painting could never capture your beauty, it would never capture the beautiful soul within you”

You feel his finger trace up your centre, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. You shudder beneath him, your thighs wanting to press together as he runs his finger over your most sensitive area. You watch him bring his fingertips up to his mouth, sucking at the juices that he had collected.

“So sweet” He presses his lips to your inner thigh, biting and sucking at the area until his breath fans over your centre, his breath hot. He blows at the area, his fingers once again skimming over you, collecting your juice.

You watch him as he lowers his head, kissing the area you wanted him, needed him. You involuntarily buck your hips, whimpering as he presses your hips down firmly into the mattress.

He looks up at you and smiles, opening your centre with his fingers and running his tongue up between your folds. You watch as he closes his eyes, moaning against you as he puckers his lips around your clit and begins to suck.

“Har” You moan as he slips a long finger into you, his pace slow as he allows you to completely adjust to the sensation. It stung at first, but as he moves, the sting subsides, and leaves you with an electric sensation, growing with each pump of his finger.

Harry would occasionally look up at her, watch her grip the sheets and wriggle beneath his touch. God she tasted good, it was sweet, like his favourite candy, but it was so much better, so good he never wanted to stop. He could stay like this, between her legs forever and he thinks he’d be ok.

A soft moan escapes her and he growls, the sound alone enough to get him off.

“I feel it, Harry stop I need to pee, please I”

“Let it go, baby, just let it go”

She screams, her body withering as the sensation bursts. His name leaves her lips as she clenches her eye shut tightly, the small white blotched turning to stars as her legs shake. The sensation was hot, but amazing, a feeling that had her toes curling to the point of cramps.

As she opens her eyes she smiles, watching Harry come up from her legs. His face is wet from her, his hair messy from where she scratched her nails through the long brown locks.

“Sensational” He whispers, towering his body over hers to press his lips to hers.

She can taste herself on his lips, sweet, oddly pleasant. She always thought that it would be gross, considering the area, but god, seeing Harry between her legs set a fire in her stomach, she never wanted it to stop.

“I’ll take it slow, my love, but if it's too much, don’t be afraid to tell me....I won’t use a condom, male wolves are only fertile when the full moon is strong” He whispers, helping her aid off his joggers.

You can feel him hit your stomach, hot and slightly wet but you don’t look, just from the feel, you can tell his size. You know that if you look now, you will overthink it, and then you probably wouldn’t go through with it.

“Are you ok?” He asks, his brows furrowed together as his one hand caresses her cheek. You smile up at him, leaning into the caress.

“I’m perfect” You reply, leaning to press a kiss to his inner wrist. He smiles and aligns himself between your folds, collecting your wetness as he holds himself. He looks at you with a smile and begins to sink in, little by little.

You can feel the burn, the stretch of him as he slowly inches himself inside you. You wince and tighten, squeezing his waist as he holds his position. The sensation had tears prickle at the corner of your eyes, the sting slowly subsiding as he continues to hold his position.

“Are you ok?” He questions, his face concerned as he notices the tear that escapes. It runs down your cheek and wets your lips, taking you by surprise as it falls slowly onto your bare chest.

“I’m fine, keep going” You whisper, closing your eyes tightly as he sinks int you fully. You cry out, your nails digging into his skin as the sensation of burning subsides, your body wants to feel him move within you.

“You can move” She whispers, feeling him presses kisses over her face. She hears his breath as he pulls back, slowly filling her again as he thrusts. The movements are slow, caring, but god the sensation. It turns from burning, to electricity, the pleasure overwhelming her as she opens her eyes.

She looks up at him and sees that he is staring straight back at her, his lips curled up slightly into a smile. She smiles back, reaching up to hold his face as he picks up the pace, his eyes closing every now and again as he thrusts into her once more.

She can feel him stretching her, hitting her walls inside, but it's pleasant, better than pleasant, it was a feeling she never wanted to forget.

As their body's press together, connecting as one, she cant help but cries out. She brings her hands up to his face and pulls his lips to hers, needing to be closer to him. They were already connected, already so close, but yet she felt like they weren’t close enough,

The sweat from their bodies makes their skin stick together, the sound of their bodies connecting echoing around the room along with the moans and cries that leave their lips.

She can feel everything inside her building up, just like before. It was like she needed to pee, it was the only way she could describe it. It was a desperate need of release, pushing against her, threatening to explode with each thrust of his hips.

“I...I”

“I’m with you love, just let it go” He growls, throwing his head back as she clenches around him. His body was on fire, but he had to see her as she released around him. Her eyes were clenched shut, her back arched, pressing her boobs to his chest just that little bit harder.

Her cheeks flush brighter as her mouth opens, his name leaving her lips in a soft melody only for his ears. She was beautiful, god she was perfect.

“I love you” She whispers, just as he throws his head back.

She can feel his release coating her, hot and sticky. She reaches up to hold his face as his lips part, the look of peace washing over him as his body relaxes. His eyes slowly open, his mouth curling up as he lowers his chest against her once more,

“I love you too, Y/N”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles soft

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blurry-fics · 6 years ago

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Chapter Eight

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Mention of one particularly annoying dude

Word Count: 1618

Author’s Note: Quick question for those of you who read on mobile! I personally thought the new font makes reading fics a bit harder (less distinction between paragraphs), so if there’s anything I can do to make reading a little easier, just let me know! It might also just be me being silly, in which case, enjoy this chapter 💛

“Are you ready for another amazing day on tour?” was the first thing that you heard when you woke up that morning. Tyler was the one who had said it, as he had a habit of doing when you slept in late.

“No,” you mumbled as you clambered out of your bunk.

“Hey, we are not going to tolerate that attitude on this tour bus,” Tyler said, pointing a finger at you.

“What are you going to do, throw me off?” you laughed.

“He’ll do it,” Josh said as he took a bite of his cereal.

“I will!”

You shook your head as you grabbed your change of clothes and slid into the bathroom. Getting dressed in the bathroom was a pain, but it was better than changing in front of everyone on the tour bus, even if you did have a bad habit of bumping your elbows into the walls.

“Shoot,” you muttered as you did it yet again while pulling on your sweatshirt.

“You ok in there?” Josh called.

“Funny bone!” you answered.

You walked out of the bathroom and tossed your pajamas into your bunk. Tyler and Josh were at the table, eating their breakfasts and looking over their phones.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” Tyler said. “Come check this out.”

“What?”

Tyler held out his phone for you to look at. It was a tweet that he had made earlier that morning with some of the photos you had taken at last night’s show. The tweet had hit nearly five thousand likes already, which seemed crazy to you.

“No way,” you smiled, grabbing his phone. “Five thousand likes in two hours?”

“People really like your photos.”

You shook your head, “I’ll never get used to that.”

Just seeing your twitter handle on a tweet with that many likes was amazing to you. It was nice to know that people were loving what you were doing just as much as you were.

“What are you doing?” Josh asked as you opened up the breakfast cupboard.

“Making myself breakfast?”

“No, wait!” he said, temporarily abandoning his cereal.

“What?”

He walked off towards the back of the bus. You looked at Tyler, who only smiled at you. Josh returned a few moments later, carrying a white box in his hands.

“What is that?” you asked.

He set the box down on the table near Tyler. You walked over just as he opened the top of it. Inside was a cake that said “Happy One Month of Tour!”

“Happy first month of touring!” Tyler and Josh said together.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, “For me?”

“Who else?” Tyler laughed.

“We wanted to celebrate you surviving your first month on tour with us. It’s not an easy task,” Josh added.

“Thank you,” you smiled, giving each of them a hug.

“Aren’t you going to eat your cake?” Tyler asked as you walked back over to the breakfast cupboard.

“I can’t have cake for breakfast!” you laughed.

“Sure you can!” he said. “We’re on tour.”

You shook your head, “I’m going to have some cereal, and then we can all share my celebratory cake.”

“Fine,” Tyler sighed. “But only because that means I get to have cake too.”

You were hard at working editing photos at the table. The boys were on the other side of the room, quietly doing their own thing. Tyler appeared to be working on lyrics and Josh was on his phone, although he looked pretty close to falling asleep.

Since it had grown so quiet, you decided to listen to some music while you worked. You grabbed your bag from beside your feet and began to fish around at the bottom of your bag for your headphones. Instead, your hand came into contact with a piece of paper. Curious as to what it was, you pulled it out and unfolded it.

Y/N,

You recognized Matthew’s handwriting immediately. The letter was from a year or two ago; it had been one that you used to read when you were worried that Matthew didn’t love you. Knowing what you knew now, the concept made you laugh.

You know that I’m not very good with words, but I wanted to write you this letter to celebrate our third anniversary. In the time that we’ve been together, you have made me the happiest guy in the world. I look forward to every minute that I get to spend with you, even if it’s something as simple as doing homework together in the library.

Before I met you, I felt like there was nobody in this world that really understood me. Then you came along and took the time to learn all of my weird habits and quirks. What’s even crazier to me is that you love me because of them, not in spite of them. If you ask me, that’s pretty special.

I don’t think words will ever be able to describe the way that you make me feel, although I’ll try. Your smile is infectious. Your laugh is contagious. I could stare at you for hours and never get bored. I love that we can talk for hours about the simplest and weirdest things. That’s something that’s rare nowadays. You never fail to make me laugh, and that’s something that I will be endlessly thankful for.

You are the stars in my sky, the sun to my moon, and the reason I wake up in the morning. I’m so happy that I get to call you mine, and it’s a concept that I’m not sure that I will ever get used to. I hope that I’m never dumb enough to let you go.

Ok, that’s enough of me being cheesy. But really, I love you so much, Y/N. I can’t wait for what the future has in store for us.

Much love,

Matthew

You crumpled up the paper and tossed it across the room into the trash can, hoping that you never had to look at it again. Knowing him, he had probably pulled that off of some website and passed it off as his own. He had never been the romantic type.

“What was that?” Josh asked.

“A letter from my ex.”

“From recently?”

“No. I used to keep it in my bag to read when I was feeling down. I had forgotten about it until just now.”

He nodded and went back to looking at his phone. You remembered what you had originally set out to do and went back to digging around in your bag for headphones.

“Wait, that was a letter from your ex?” Tyler asked.

“Yeah. It was weird to read again. I realized how much better I’m doing now,” you explained.

“Good,” he smiled. “I’m glad. Hey, Josh, what do you think of this?”

You continued to edit photos as you half listened to the poetry that Tyler was performing for Josh. Your hand was beginning to cramp up from editing photos for so long, so you decided to take a break and make yourself some lunch.

“You guys want anything?” you asked as you grabbed ingredients.

“I’m good,” Josh said.

“Me too.”

“Ok.”

You made yourself a sandwich and then walked over to the couch. Josh moved his legs so that you had room to sit, but was quick to put them right back over you when you made yourself comfortable. He smiled innocently at you when you gave him a look.

“Are you guys excited for the show tonight?”

“Yeah, but I’m even more excited for our day off tomorrow,” Josh answered.

“I thought we had Tuesday off?”

“Nope, tomorrow,” Tyler answered.

You nodded and took a bite of your sandwich.

“Hey, look at this,” Josh said, passing his phone to you.

You grabbed his phone and watched the video. It was a fan edit made using your photos from the concert.

“That’s really cool,” you smiled. “I’m so glad that your fans are liking the pictures that I’m taking.”

Josh nodded and took his phone back from you.

“Ok, guys, listen to this,” Tyler said.

You and Josh both listened as Tyler recited what he had written. Moments like this had grown to be your favorite, when it was just you and the boys relaxing on the bus or after a show. It was almost like being young again, hanging out with your best friends and not having a care in the world.

“That’s really good, Ty,” you said.

“You think so?”

“I agree,” Josh chimed in. “We should try to get that on the next album.”

Tyler nodded and made a little mark in his notebook before flipping through the pages. You finished your sandwich and got back up to wash your plate.

“How are the photos coming?” Josh asked.

“I’m almost done with last night’s,” you said, taking a seat at your computer once again.

Josh got up and walked over to where you were sitting, leaning over your shoulder so that he could see.

“These are looking really good, although I guess that shouldn’t really come as a surprise,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” you said, trying your hardest not to blush.

“Y/N/N, do you mind sending me some of your favorites when you’re done? I’m going to try and get another tweet out tonight.”

“Yeah, no problem, Ty.”

Josh went back to laying on the couch and you plugged in your headphones so that you could start focusing. You were getting closer to the next venue, meaning that you would have to pack up and help out the rest of the crew. It was a routine that you had quickly gotten used to.

One month of tour down, two to go.

Tags (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@svintsandghosts @a-stumpsexuals-world @ohprettyweeper @jigglypuff1999 @simonsbluee @beanfic

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