#WE SEE YOU SUSAN. WE HAVE OUR EYES ON YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imtherain · 23 days ago

Text

He Brings Me Flowers: (Sex Pollen/Logan) Part One

Hey hey heyo

I'm only a few days late and this is only half the fic, but I promised I'd publish this sooner, so I broke it in half. I'll probably post a full version too at some point.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, some fighting, plants!, surprise lesbians, newly married Jean/Scott, reader is in 1rst person because I write better that way usually, a lot of internal talking, negative self image, kinda of a cliff hanger, no sex specifically but people get a bit frisky.

I promise I'm trying to finish the rest, but my brain cells are tired

Word Count (I shouldn't tell you): just shy of 10k for this one

tagging @gothamnighthawk because I took a screenshot (promptly forgot which thing she wanted tagged in and took the last 20 minutes verifying I had the right fic)

[Masterlist]

[Logan List]

[Part Two!]

Here we go!

It all started with what sounded like a basic mission, recon only, investigating a base that had been found in a dense forest a few miles outside of a small town I’d never heard of, just across the Canadian border. The rumor was that the base was working on creating new biological weapons, but when I landed the jet, all we’d really found was a sudden, inexplicable, field of flowers.

Honestly, the place was extraordinarily beautiful, like stepping into a whole different world. The field was entirely surrounded by trees, sentinels against the outside world, holding the flower field in its arms like it was afraid they would escape. Perhaps that should have been warning enough�� something too pretty in a place it shouldn’t be.

No one seemed to have any issues as we approached. And there were a lot of us, considering it was a simple recon mission, but it was a chance to stretch everyone’s legs, so basically anyone who wanted to come along had been allowed to join.

Jean and Scott hadn’t been on a mission at all since their honeymoon, so they signed up. Rogue had been asking to go on a mission for months now, and Ororo only let her because she tagged along to keep an eye on the younger woman. And then there was Logan, who just seemed to be the default on every mission. I heard Scott joke once that they needed to bring him to ‘take the dog for a walk so he didn’t chew up anyone’s shoes’.

Oh, and of course, there was me.

I really enjoyed going on missions, but mostly because I really enjoyed flying the jet. It not only was a blast, but it made me feel useful, which was nice, because my mutations didn’t really seem all that great compared to everyone else’s. All I could do was freeze someone in time for a bit, which sounds far cooler than it is, and there weren’t exactly a lot of cases for that being particularly useful. I’d only really ever used it to hold someone until someone more important than me could come get them. And even that was rare.

At the end of the day I was just really fancy handcuffs.

Logan and Scott were bickering while we made our way through the flowers. In patches the petals were yellows, some as big as the mammoth sunflowers my aunt used to grow, and some smaller petalled ones that looked like black-eyed-Susans. Another patch was all creamy whites, three or four different petal groupings. One patch was pale orange, another, brilliant reds. Some looked familiar and some were totally alien to me. It was almost as though every flower someone could think of was here in the field around us.

Jean and Rouge were walking behind the boys, trying to deescalate, and Ororo was right behind them. She seemed just as interested in the flowers as I was.

“Wouldn’t be a mission without those two fighting, would it?” Ororo’s voice came from beside me suddenly. I nodded.

“I swear, I don’t even hear it anymore, it’s just like how I got used to the train whistle when I lived near a crossing,” We laughed.

“Do these flowers seem off to you?” Ororo asked carefully. It was almost as though she was trying to check to see if she was hallucinating or not.

“I was wondering how they got so many varieties to bloom all at once,” I agreed. “Because back that way I saw a whole bunch of flowers that shouldn’t be blooming this time of year, right next to ones that shouldn’t be growing this far north at all,”

“Maybe they have something to do with the intel we received,” Ororo said.

“What are you ladies talking about back here,” Logan’s voice drew both of our attention away from the patch of warm golden flowers we’d been admiring.

“Do these flowers seem weird to you?” I asked him. Logan’s eyes traced my face quickly before he glanced across the field. Ororo smirked at me but I ignored her.

“Not really,” He shrugged. “It all smells the same,”

“What does it smell like?” Ororo asked, obviously hoping for some sort of insight.

“Flowers,” He said unhelpfully. Ororo rolled her eyes at him and went to catch up with the others. Leaving me alone with Logan.

Who was staring at me.

“What? Is there something on me?” I asked, alarmed. With this many flowers around, it wouldn’t be a surprise for there to be all kinds of bees. I wasn’t allergic that I knew of, but I also didn’t really want to find out otherwise.

“Nothing,” Logan shook his head. “Just thinking about how it’s been a while since I’ve seen you out on a mission,”

“I literally fly you to every mission,” I rolled my eyes at him and started walking again. I didn’t want to get too far behind everyone else. Not to mention, being alone with Logan had the bad habit of making me daydream about him falling hopelessly in love with me one day.

Which I knew for a fact, was delusional at best.

“Well yeah, but you usually wait in the jet,” Logan pressed. “It’s nice to see you out,”

“Just another person for you to show off for, huh?” I smirked, thinking I caught him.

“Nah,” He disagreed. “I don’t show off for those losers,” He nodded towards the group ahead of us with no malice in his tone. “I only show off for pretty girls like you,”

I scoffed.

“Laying it on pretty thick today,” I rolled my eyes at him even though my cheeks were red. Logan chuckled and I hated that I had the feeling he knew exactly how warm his compliment had made my chest.

But I also really wished he wouldn’t tease me so much. I knew he wouldn’t want someone like me and that he only did it to make my blush and nothing more. We were coworkers, neighbors kind of since we both lived in the adult dorms, and sometimes I’d even dare to say we were friends. But anything other than that? There was no way. He only called me pretty as a favor, a harmless tease, the way I told every cat I saw that he was handsome. And I mean, every cat is handsome, so maybe that isn’t the right comparison.

All I knew was that Logan wouldn’t want to fall in love with me. No one ever did.

I had convinced myself I was just fine with that. Just like every other boy I’d ever gotten feelings for. I was a friend at best, never a girlfriend, never even someone to fuck. I’d made my peace with that as a young woman who found herself surrounded by doors that stayed shut, stayed locked, stayed with their flashing signs that read “Love Inside: No Admittance.”

We came upon the building not long after. It looked remarkably like an office building of some sort, but it was only one story tall and sprawling. Logan, as always, led the charge inside, checking corners and doorways as we made our way through the surprisingly unlocked front doors. I stayed with Ororo and Rouge who were both better in hand to hand situations than I was, even though I had gotten pretty good at sparring. Mostly that was thanks to Logan who taught me how to kick someone’s ass without worrying about hurting them, as that had always been an issue I had sparring with the other women.

I was simply… bigger than them. Both taller and thicker. Hell, I knew for a fact you could add Ororo and Jean together and I’d still have about 30 pounds on them. Not to mention the time I’d given Ororo a black eye when she had finally convinced me to spar with her, and that was the same day I’d knocked the wind out of her when I wasn’t even trying to.

Clumsy at best, uncoordinated. Not really useful for much of anything when you can’t even control your limbs correctly. Why would they bother to bring you on missions if you couldn’t fly the jet?

We didn’t see much of anything on the first level of the building. A few cameras mounted high on the wall, but they were all busted and clearly not functional. Empty offices with dusty shelves and overturned chairs. A pile of metal folding chairs collapsed near the front doors.

One room was full of empty flower pots, which was strange but harmless. Honestly, it looked as though no one had even set foot in the place in several years.

The lower level showed signs of life, but not signs of weapons being made.

The level appeared to have been mostly conference rooms originally, large glass windows looking into square spaces from a nondescript hallway. The first one was mostly empty, the only thing left was another stack of those uncomfortable metal chairs pushed against a wall. A large, dark stain, bloomed in the middle of the carpet. It smelled like mold and must.

Most of the other rooms were filled, or at least partially filled, with vines. The whole level smelled thick and cloying like a greenhouse with all the fans off. No airflow. All green air and black earth.

“Never seen anything like this before,” Jean mused.

“What, you never saw Little Shop of Horrors?” Logan asked.

“Let’s hope this is nothing like that,” Scott slid himself into the conversation, as he always did when Logan talked to Jean.

“Nothing seems to be moving,” I added. “But everything seems to be alive,”

“Unsettling,” Rouge shivered at the thought. “And weren’t there supposed to be people here?”

“Oh god, I hope they aren’t in there with all those vines,” I felt my throat constrict at the thought.

“I don’t really want those nightmares,” Scott agreed.

“I don’t sense anything with a heartbeat,” Jean soothed our worries, but seemed a bit nervous about whatever it was she did sense. “Not here anyway,”

“Are you sensing something somewhere else?” Scott paused in front of her, his hands going to her arms to sooth her. They were sweet, Scott always coming to Jean’s aid, trying to make things ok for her in every way he possibly could. I often wondered if I’d like to be taken care of like that, but I figured it would make me feel like a child, and I hated being treated like a child.

Jean said something back to Scott and he smiled at her softly.

After a while, watching them just sort of hurt my teeth.

I paused at a desk that was half covered with the greenery spilling out of the room next to it. It almost looked like the vines had either pushed the desk out of their way, or were trying to pull it back in. And these vines seemed to be leafier. Broad expanses begging to get sunlight. I wondered who would be cruel enough to grow plants like that in the dark. Or rather mostly dark, as there were a few fluorescent lights still doing their best.

Under the reaching leaves, I found some papers. Most were water damaged and useless, but one appeared to be an old magazine clipping of a man smiling at the camera, a greenhouse in the background. The way the picture had been torn from the magazine had removed the top half of the man’s head, but you could still make out the smile, still see the teeth.

There was a boy next to the man, but the boy wasn’t smiling. He was holding a potted plant to his chest, as if hoping he could hide behind the many different flower heads all coming out of it. He wore a black jacket that seemed all the more dark next to the taller man’s white lab coat.

“I found a picture,” I said, just loud enough that the others could hear. “Not sure it means anything,”

“Let me see it,” Ororo came and took it from me. “Hmm, don’t those look kind of like the field outside?” Scott took the old clipping from her next.

“Yeah, seems close enough to be related. Think the boy or the dad is behind all this then?” Scott asked. He flipped the image over and part of the article was visible, but he didn’t bother sharing it with the class.

“That’s an old magazine,” Logan said, not needing to look too close. “I’d wager the son,”

“Ok, but either way, why would they be making weapons out here if they were plant people?” I asked. “I haven’t seen anything to suggest a weapon is even being made here.”

“There’s someone coming, hide,” Jean said suddenly. Everyone moved without questioning her.

Ororo pulled Rouge under the desk I’d been searching, the vines hanging down enough to shield them. Jean and Scott moved to slide into the nearest-to-them conference room, barely squeezing in amongst the plant life there.

I looked around, panic in my chest as I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. The conference room to my direct left had vines pushing their way out the door. The desk was already hiding two people. I couldn’t help but freeze as I realized there was nowhere for me to hide and I was too big to just slide in somewhere. I’d get caught and blow the whole mission.

Logan caught my eye and came running towards me, which honestly, didn’t help my panic. I opened my mouth to tell him to hide himself, but he was faster than me, covering my mouth with his hand. His other arm came around my middle, holding me flush with his chest, effectively stilling us both and preventing me from making any noise.

I tried to wiggle away from him, confused as to how us standing still was going to prevent us getting caught. Logan just shushed me, and held me tighter as he listened for the threat I was sure he’d be able to hear even though I couldn’t.

Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the nearness of him. He smelled like leather and his last cigar and whatever it was he put in his hair. I heard him sniffing, trying to figure out where exactly the threat was, and probably what it was.

“Come on,” Logan’s voice was low and directly against the shell of my ear and it made me shiver. He took my hand and pulled me with him, back the way we’d come, but only into the previous section hallway so that we could hide behind the open fire doors. One side was off its hinges, leaning heavily against the wall, the other side was only partly open, making a nook between the metal and the wall behind it.

Logan pushed me into the space first so that he was on the outside should anyone or anything come for us. Always the ‘walk on the road side of the sidewalk’ type.

“I could just freeze them maybe,” I offered in a hoarse whisper.

“We don’t know who they are or what they can do,” Logan’s whisper was harsher than mine. “Best let me handle it,”

Normally, I would have sassed him, but my heart was in my throat as if this was the worst possible game of hide-and-seek. Which, it kind of was.

There was a loud banging and the sound of someone cursing at themselves. I could almost make out their muttering as they made their way down the hall to where the others were hiding. I couldn’t see much through the opening at the hinges, but I could see the edge of the room filled with vines and make out the corner of the desk.

“Hmm, didn’t think you’d make so many leaves down here… brave girl,” A male voice praised one of the vines. I could just barely make out the reflection of his back on the glass window of one of the nearer conference rooms. He wore a white lab coat that was clearly dirty at the bottom like some mad scientist. Working with plants was dirty work, so I guess the look was warranted at least.

The man turned and began walking our way again. I felt Logan’s hand press itself against the soft part of my hip as he reached blindly behind himself to find me. He wanted to know where I was so that if and when this went sideways, he could step in front of me. I knew how he was, always a protector, and me always needing protecting. That was part of why I often stayed in the jet on missions. I didn’t want to get in his, or anyone else’s, way.

I turned to look up at Logan, listening to the mad scientist muttering to himself as he checked another section of vines. I hoped Logan could read my face as I tried to tell him not to worry about me. Logan held my eyes and I gripped onto his arm as the muttering got closer. I watched in fascination as Logan raised his free hand and his claws came out, slowly enough that they hardly made any noise at all. He looked back out the open side of our hiding spot.

I tugged on his sleeve, trying to draw him closer to me, farther from where the door wouldn’t cover him well enough. He cast me a glare that normally would have had me shrinking away from him, but as much as he wanted to protect me, I needed to protect him too. I shook my head at him, begging him to stay put. Begging him with my eyes, please, for once, just stay still.

The muttering suddenly stopped and I held my breath. Just as Logan made to move, I touched the back of my hand to his cheek and he froze, my powers temporarily holding him out of time.

I felt bad for having done it to him as I knew it wasn’t a fun experience. While it did not have any lasting effects physically, the entire time you were frozen, you could not breathe (not that you needed to), you could not move, you could not do anything but perceive the world around you. The longest I’d ever held anyone was just shy of 47 minutes. And I hated that someone had had to experience it for that long just to prove something to Charles, who had requested such a test.

It had been one of the scientists that Charles had hired on as an intern at the time, a young man who’s name I didn’t remember. I did, however, remember how he told me it was fine, that he could take it. We even did a short session first, just a few minutes. Then he wanted to see just how long I could hold him for. Everyone else involved was so fascinated the whole time, even the scientist who had had to suffer for me to learn about myself. To learn how hard it got to hold someone like that. How I felt them struggle against my teeth.

And the scientists had learned that my powers simply paused the existence of someone, and then when I let them go, they were fine as though no time had passed. Their bodies, perfectly fine.

The mad scientist went on his way down the hall. Muttering about fertilizer and wondering where he’d left his coffee. His lab coat fluttering behind him as he went.

Once I could no longer hear him, I touched Logan’s cheek again and released him from my hold. It was easier to let someone go if I touched them again, but it wasn’t really necessary. My hold would wear out eventually, and Logan was always quicker to flee my hold than most. I figured it was because he struggled more than others.

He took a deep breath, grumbling a bit as he adjusted to having control of his limbs back, and glared at me.

“What the fuck was that for?” He demanded.

“I didn’t want you to hop out and start clawing people without knowing what’s going on,” I snapped back. “And I could tell you were about a half a second away from doing just that,”

Logan glared at me some more, but then shook his head, not wanting to admit I was right.

“Let’s go get the others,” He said, taking my wrist and pulling me back into the hallway. I pulled my arm from him, rubbing the warm spot he left behind. Without the threat of being caught, him touching me at all seemed really uncalled for. Entirely inappropriate.

And something I knew I’d commit to memory for the next time I wondered what human connection felt like on a physical level.

But whatever, he shouldn’t be touching me… but since it was for extenuating circumstances, I supposed I could let it go for now.

“Thank goodness you two are alright,” Rouge’s accent always got stronger when she was worried. “Did you see where he went?”

“He was headed for the stairs we took to get down here,” Logan told her. He was hovering near me, and I wondered why I had the feeling he had something he wanted to say to me. But when I looked up at him, question marks in my eyes, he looked away.

He didn’t normally look away from me, and it stung. But now wasn’t really the time to be That Girl about it. If he was going to be mad at me, I could apologize again later and he’d forgive me. He always did.

“Well I say we go thata way,” Scott deadpanned, though he clearly said it like that to get a reaction. He was pointing in the opposite direction of the mad scientist.

“I hate to agree with Cyclops, but,” Logan chimed in.

“He’s right,” Ororo said, brushing a wayward bit of plant matter off Rouge’s back. “And we should hurry to find our information before that man comes back this way,”

We moved faster now, not stopping until we found what was clearly the only office still being used as such. There were about fifteen different computer monitors stacked up on each other. Some were the big old CRT monitors, flickering dully with lists of data. Most were newer models, LCD screens or what seemed to be old flat screen TVs. Some were bolted to the wall.

Ororo and Rouge went to investigate the computer screens closer, reading the data and trying to figure out what he was doing. Jean joined them after a moment of whispering with Scott. Part of me always felt like she was up to something when she did that, but Logan told me he could always hear what sappy shit they were saying and that I wasn’t missing anything.

I had told Logan once that if he ever saw me get like that about a man he should just kill me. Logan had laughed, and promised me he would.

“Well, looks like we’re dealing with the son,” Logan said. He had gone to dig through a pile of papers and manilla folders. He held out a newspaper and I took it, reading the headline.

“‘Henry Mitchelle, Father of Renowned Botanist Prodigy Malachi Mitchelle, dead at 52. Cause Still a Mystery’.” I said aloud. I skimmed the article. “Sounds like daddy dearest’s greatest accomplishment was having his son. And this says the police should blame Malachi for the death, since Henry had been of solid health until suddenly he, well, wasn’t.”

“He had heart failure, which had nothing to do with me.” A new voice said from the door that none of us had thought to watch. Everyone turned to him, ready to fight. He held up his hands as if he were surrendering.

“That why you started making weapons?” Logan asked. He was the only one that didn’t look like he was ready to fight, but I knew he was likely to be the first one to get in front of whatever Malachi would surely throw at us.

Malachi scoffed loudly. He was probably 35 or so, his hair needed a brush and probably a good scrub. There were soil smudges on his cheek, his forehead, and on every article of clothing he wore. His hair was mousy brown and his eyes were a terrifyingly bright shade of green.

“You think I make weapons?” Malachi sounded like we had just accused him of trying to water a fake plant. “The reason I’m out here in the middle of nowhere is so that everyone and their uncle will stop asking me to make them weapons. I suppose that’s why you’re here, you all look official.” His tone conveyed his annoyance with the idea of “official” anything.

“We’re not government,” Scott offered. Malachi stepped into the room and took the newspaper out of my hand. He ignored Scott entirely.

“My dad always told me that I was so gifted, that I could change the world. But he also wanted the money, so he sold me off to whoever wanted my plants for the highest price.”

“I’m sorry he was like that,” I said, empathetic. I knew far too many people, fathers or otherwise, that likely would have done the same. “You deserved better,”

“I actually had ‘better’ too, my mother.” Malachi’s face softened with the memory of her. “But she passed as well, someone told me once it was careless to have lost both parents,”

“Are the flowers for your mother?” Ororo’s voice came from behind me. Malachi’s neon eyes turned to her.

“Originally, yes, and she loved them. I call them Feel Good Flowers because they helped the body release happy chemicals,” He smiled so softly at the memory. I wondered how this man could be dangerous. He mostly seemed to be sad, but content enough to keep living.

“I take it dad wasn’t thrilled with your Happy Flowers,” Scott said. He was standing in front of Jean and Rouge, who were both still trying to investigate while we held Malachi’s attention.

“They were deemed ‘inefficient, ineffective, and useless’ so… no, my father wasn’t exactly proud of them. Couldn’t make him money, couldn’t bring back the dead,”

“Sounds like a jerk,” Scott’s attempt to hold Malachi’s attention was weak, but worked well enough.

“It was a blessing when he died,” Malachi agreed. “Even if they tried to blame me for it,”

“Nice sob story, bub,” Logan said, obviously bored with this conversation. “So what are you doing out here then?” I felt my gut twist with the way Malachi’s eyes turned to Logan. Logan clearly felt the shift too because he was suddenly a lot less nonchalant about this whole thing.

“Trying to be left alone,” Malachi’s voice grew echoey as he snarled the words.

“We were told there were weapons being made here, that’s why we’re here…” Ororo tried to cut in. Normally, her voice was soothing and cut the tension. I’d seen her talk down several potentially dangerous mutants before, which was also why she made an incredible vice principal at the school.

But this time she’d picked an unfortunate choice of words.

Malachi’s eyes were fully glowing suddenly, just like he was a halloween decoration with those stupid LED eyeballs. A loud crash came from behind us and the wall broke in, vines shooting through.

A flash of Cyclop’s eye bolts cut through most of them. Another crash and this time, the ceiling came down under the weight of thick plant life. There was shouting and I reached forward, trying to grab Malachi. I figured I could freeze him and it would hopefully stop the vines.

But Logan was closer, and saw my play, so he stepped between us, swinging claws at the scientist’s face.

“Cut the crap, asshole,” Logan snarled as Malachi dodged him. “We were playing nice,”

“You came in here to disturb me,” Malachi moved away from Logan easily as vines tangled his legs. Logan fell to the ground with a grunt, but was able to slice the vines off in one easy swing.

“If you’re out here killing people with plants, yeah!” I shouted after him. I was out in the hallway now, both trying to be out of the way, and block Malachi from escaping towards the stairs. Malachi laughed.

“The only people my plants have killed are the ones who came in here looking for weapons,” His face, which had been so normal before, was now a twisted snarl. “Care to be next?” The skin of his lips, and the waterline around his eyes, both seemed to have darkened to a deep green. His eyes still glowed that eerie LED green that was unsettlingly fake, but only because I knew he wasn’t made of plastic.

“How about we don’t kill anyone?” I offered. I eyed the vines that were now crawling on the floor towards me. They curled up on themselves when they got cut down the line. I saw Logan move away from the spot the vines ended, chasing after Malachi.

“Y/N, take Storm and Rouge back to the jet, we’ll handle him,” Jean said, pushing Rouge in my direction.

“What? We can help!” Rouge snapped.

“We can cover that end of the building while Logan deals with Malachi,” Ororo’s soothing voice came out again and Rouge bristled at it. But also, Ororo had a point. Plus, I could work on getting the jet ready to go, and it would keep Rouge, who was still not really an official XMan, out of harm's way.

“I’ll keep the seats warm,” I relented easily enough, even though the roar I heard down the hall made my anxiety spike. Logan was fighting hard, and the building shook every time he took a hit. “Y’all best go get Logan in check before they collapse the whole building,” Another crash and Jean winced, knowing it was just a matter of time before I was right.

“We’ll go get him,” One could never see Scott’s eyes, but you could sure hear how hard he rolled them whenever Logan was up to his…shenanigans.

I grabbed Rouge’s arm and turned her towards the exit, cutting her off in the middle of arguing with Ororo about how the fight was being broken up.

“Trust me, no one’s going to get to fight much, you aren’t missing anything,” I told her. She brushed me off with a huff.

“I know, but I hate feeling like I’m being sidelined just because I’m a newbie,”

“I’ve been doing this for ages, and I get sidelined more often than not,” I said, a poor attempt to sooth her ruffled feathers. “There are worse things than being needed elsewhere,”

Rouge groaned because she knew I was right.

We made pretty good time getting back to the first floor. As soon as we saw natural light again, we all sort of sighed in relief. I think we were all a bit nervous about getting buried alive and didn’t want to admit it.

The floor behind us shook as vines shot up through it, a wave in the ocean of speckled beige. When they receded Logan’s body was lying face up and groaning on the old tiles.

“You know what? Fuck this guy,” Logan muttered as he hauled himself to his feet. A blast from Scott cut through the same hole Logan had just popped out of. “Watch it Summers!”

“Come on,” Ororo grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the fighting again. Logan looked up and our eyes met for a brief second. I knew he’d be ok, but I hated how many hits he always seemed to have to take first. As I turned to look where I was going, I swear I saw him wink at me.

Even in the middle of a fight he found time to tease me. He really was a bully at the worst times. I told myself I didn’t care if it made my chest warm to see him so at ease in a fight.

Plus, I sometimes wondered if he liked getting hit.

“Can’t go that way!” Rouge’s voice cut into my thoughts as a mass of vines covered the front entrance.

“I thought he wanted us to leave?” I groaned. The vines tangled into each other and seemed to solidify into a new wall. “You got anything Miss Storm?” I asked. She thought for a moment.

“I can’t do anything inside the building with all the windows blocked.” Ororo lamented.

“Logan!” Rouge’s voice shouted behind us. “We can’t get out!”

“He’s a little busy,” I rolled my eyes looking for something to help us. There were some more old chairs, but that didn’t really seem useful at the moment.

“Never too busy for you,” Logan’s voice at my shoulder made me jump. He’d come running when Rouge shouted but it always surprised me how fast he was when he wanted to be.

“Think you can open the doors for us?” I asked him, pretending he wasn’t smiling at me. Pretending he didn’t look amazing fresh from getting shoved through who knows how many walls (and also the floor) of the main office.

“One weed wacker, coming up,” Logan unsheathed his claws with a smirk and I rolled my eyes at his joke wondering how long he’d been working on that one.

Logan chopped through one layer of vines, just for it to be replaced by another. He growled and went after it with both hands, but still, each vine he cut was replaced by another.

The floor shook and jostled me into the useless metal chair pile that occupied the space behind me. The noise was far more obnoxious than the pain it caused me. Rouge cursed as she also lost her footing and landed against the vine wall. Luckily, the vines didn’t seem to care since she wasn’t trying to prune them.

“You good, sweetheart?” Logan called over his shoulder, still slicing at the wall.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, pulling myself back to my feet. It was hard to stand up again because the chairs shifted and I couldn’t get a good spot to push myself up from. Plus, if I were honest, I had landed on something pokey that jabbed me in the ribs hard enough to make breathing hard for a second, but no one needed to know that. They’d just worry about me and we didn’t have the time for that.

“Hurry!” Ororo shouted at Logan.

“You wanna try it?” Logan snapped back angrily. Ororo rolled her eyes at him.

“Umm, guys?” I swallowed hard as I watched a mass of plants swell up through the hole in the office floor. “That doesn’t look good,”

“Where are Jean and Scott?” Rouge asked.

“Want your friends back?” The voice sounded like three or four of Malachi all speaking at once. I felt my stomach drop. Wherever his mutations were made him look like a monster now. All glowing bits and the wrong colors. “Have them back!”

Suddenly another couple of vines burst through the floor and flung two bodies at us. They both slid to a stop in front of me and Ororo.

“Scott! Jean!” Ororo cried out. They both got to their feet and dusted themselves off.

“Hey guys, the elevator here sucks,” Scott coughed. Jean smacked his arm. “What?”

“We need to get out of here,” Jean told him as though that wasn’t already obvious.

“Trying to, but this wall is really persistent,” Logan grumbled.

“The vines are trying to protect him,” Jean said. “Which means they’ll only let him through,”

“And that helps us… how exactly?” I demanded, watching as Malachi and his vines moved closer. If he moved slowly to toy with us or to give us time to realize how futile fleeing turned out to be, I didn’t know. I was more confused as to how things had gone so far south so fast. Malachi had seemed reasonable enough…right until he started glowing.

“Like this,” Jean held up her hands and Malachi’s advance froze. “Logan?” Jean asked in the same tone of voice she’d use for the most mundane requests.

“Yeah?” He sounded skeptical of this whole situation.

“Go stand by the girls please,” Jean nodded towards Ororo, Rouge, and I. Logan raised an eyebrow but took the three steps he needed to clear the doorway. Jean turned and thrust her arms out.

With a multilayered scream, Malachi and his chunk of vines blasted their way through the blockaded door.

I peered through the opening long enough to assess that Malachi was down for at least a few moments, and before anyone else said anything, I moved to push Ororo and Rouge, the closest two to me still, out the door.

“Time to go!” I shouted. The others all agreed and the six of us bolted out into the afternoon sun, back out into the impossible field of flowers.

We could hear Malachai groaning as we hurried past. Maybe we should have checked on him, or arrested him, or something? But we were all too ready to be back on the jet. We could come back for him another day, much more prepared for him.

“Why do I always park so far away?” I complained as we moved through the field. Everyone else was what felt like miles ahead of me and I could distinctly hear Malachi and his vines moving behind us. I risked looking over my shoulder and almost instantly tripped over my feet and crash landed into an entire bush of flowers.

I heard the stems break under my body and something in me lamented that I’d killed such a beautiful plant. But then I noticed why I had actually tripped. The vines were under the ground now, wiggling their way between the plants so as to not disturb them.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted my name and it felt so far away. The flowers that lay crushed on the ground beneath me looked like white chrysanthemums, each flowerhead the size of my fist, only they had red stamin sticking out of them. They were so beautiful, but also alien to me.

“Just go!” I shouted back, getting to my feet. “The vines are underground!” I added. I noticed then that the mound of vines that had held Malachi had disappeared.

And there Malachi stood where we’d left him, still as a statue, as a breeze rushed through. The wind kicked up dust from around what might have been a million different flowers. I felt the fine powder get whipped against my face and closed my eyes against what felt like the tiniest grains of sand. I coughed, knowing it was surely in my lungs too.

When I opened my eyes and looked at Malachi standing there in the distance, he was tousled and dirty, but also looked almost exactly the same as when we first saw him. He didn’t move to follow or attack us anymore.

And his eyes were no longer glowing as he stared blankly after us.

I caught up with the others just as they got the jet’s door open. It always took such a terribly long time to let the ramp down when we closed it, which was why we usually left it open for a quicker getaway. But since no one was sitting with our only ride home, we decided to be more careful and close it for once.

“Move, move, move,” Logan’s voice was loud as he ushered everyone on board. I noticed that the front of his uniform had the same fine dust that had pelted me in the face after I’d tripped. I probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for the fact that Jean had left a barely there handprint in the powder on his chest when she touched him as she climbed on board the ship.

It always annoyed me when she did that to him. Jean had literally married Scott less than six months ago and yet she still touched Logan like they were maybe more than friends. Not that it was any of my business, but leave the poor man alone.

Nevermind the green thing in me that wished I was allowed to touch his chest like that.

Scott was flipping switches to turn on the jet as I crested the ramp. I counted that we had everyone on board and hit the button to close up the hatch again.

“Well, that wasn’t great,” I complained, moving to the captain’s chair and shooing Scott from the controls. When I sat down I noticed that my chest felt funny, like I’d been holding my breath too long. And I was really warm, like maybe I was getting a fever.

“Scott?” Jean’s voice was worried and of course, her husband came running to her. I tried to tune them out while I finished the sequences to get us fully airborne.

“Something’s off, something doesn’t feel right,” Jean was almost babbling. I had to focus on getting us safely into the clouds, so I didn’t notice the change things took until I heard Logan swear.

“What the fuck you two?” His anger made me turn in time to see Jean straddling Scott’s lap while she kissed him. Clearly with tongue.

“I… I need you,” Jean stammered into Scott’s throat. Scott seemed to be under the influence of whatever nonsense had its hold on her too, as he was not trying to stop her from kissing him, nor from grinding down on his lap. When she moved up, his suit was clearly struggling to contain whatever it was he kept in his pants.

“Guys!” I snapped.

“Can’t…stop,” Scott panted. “Need you,” The second part was directed at Jean. I scoffed out loud and turned back to the controls because I really needed to get us to the altitude to use the autopilot. It took all of two minutes max, but with the idea of what was happening behind me fresh and spiky in my mind, it made it feel like a hell of a lot longer.

And my head was feeling strange, like maybe I was getting a migraine or something.

I could hear a scuffle and some moaning as Logan tried to break apart the lovebirds.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Scott’s voice was low and a kind of menacing that I didn’t know he was capable of.

“You wouldn’t risk bringing this entire jet down just to get your rocks off,” Logan was clearly struggling with someone else while he snapped at Scott.

“MMm,” Jean’s voice moaned. “Logan,” I stood then and punched the button for auto pilot with my entire fist.

“What the actual fuck is going on back there?” I demanded turning to face them. Jean was trying to rub herself on Logan, begging for any sort of friction while he did his best to keep her at arms length. I felt a sharp hit of anger and jealousy ricochet around my ribs. It was stronger than any such similar feelings I’d had before and I was confused as to why I suddenly wanted to grab Logan and pull him behind me.

Or under me.

Shaking that thought from my head, I tried to ignore the heat on my face.

“Need Scott,” Jean said, sounding like she’d forgotten what syllables were. “Or Logan,” she purred his name in a way that made me want to jump out the window. Logan shoved her back at Scott, who happily caught her.

“Both of you knock it off,” Logan reprimanded them as though they were children. But when he turned to look at me, it was obvious that part of the reason he’d shoved Jean off was because whatever it was that had affected them was doing something to him too. “Fuck,” The curse was quieter and more to himself as he shivered.

“Is it actually getting really hot in here?” Rouge’s voice was shaky as she asked.

“I think we were drugged,” Ororo managed. She had a light sheen of sweat forming along her brow as she watched Scott and Jean making out like teenagers. Her eyes were stuck to them as though looking away would be a crime.

“How? When?” Logan snapped. He looked a bit twitchy, standing too close to the lovebirds. “You two need to fucking stop,” Irritated both for good reason, and for the uncomfortable pressure that was forming in his chest.

“Storm?” Rouge questioned as Ororo put her hand on her thigh, far higher up than was normal for either of them.

“Marie, since when do you smell so nice?”

“Ok, I am not dealing with this,” I said, feeling a weird mix of fear, anxiety, and heat blooming in my chest. “Everyone, it’s nap time,” I decided all at once. I had no idea if I could hold more than one person at a time, but if ever there was a need to…

“You taste sweeter than sugar, honey,” I felt the blood rush to my ears and to my stomach as I registered the Ororo and Rouge had just kissed. I had to physically push Logan out of my way so I could make a direct path to the original problem… Jean and Scott, who were about three seconds from peeling off their suits.

I grabbed each of them by the back of their neck, as if scruffing a misbehaving pair of puppies, and pulled them apart. They both looked up at me in shock for a moment before falling back together, limp and frozen in time.

“Secure them in their seats please,” I commanded Logan as I made my way over to Ororo and Rouge. Logan finally moved to do as I asked and I wondered if he was feeling the same wobbly feeling I was as I stopped in front of the next pair of us.

“Yes ma’am,” Logan purred and I ignored that wave of want that his graveled voice pulled through me.

Ororo and Rouge at least appeared to be trying not to cause a scene, but they were eyefucking quite openly. And their hands were wandering.

“It hurts in my chest,” Ororo told me as I pulled her hand off Rouge’s thigh. Rouge whimpered at the loss, but had steeled herself for at least the moment. “Like I need to touch her or I’ll die,” she sounded so scared. I broke my heart because I didn’t know what was going on and so I couldn’t help her. Or my other friends.

“We’ll get you home and Hank will know what to do,” I assured her. The best I could think of.

She buckled herself into her seat as Rouge reached for her arm, begging for contact again. I pressed my fingers against Ororo’s cheek and her eyes went hazy and she went limp, her seatbelts holding her upright.

I had never figured out why some people froze more solidly than others. Logan always seemed to keep his feet when frozen, but almost everyone else turned into noodles. I turned to Rouge who was looking at Ororo with a sort of pained look that I couldn’t place. It was somewhere near lust, of course, but there was something that spoke of fear in it too. I wondered if either of them had lusted for a woman before.

“I promise, I’ll release y’all as soon as I can, so please don’t fight me,” I told her. I wasn’t particularly southern, but y’all was something I’d picked up from someone and never managed to put back down. I touched her face carefully and she laid back in her seat, her hand still resting on Ororo’s arm.

“How are you so calm?” Logan demanded through clenched teeth. I could feel my heart beating at a higher rate than normal, but if Logan thought I was calm, he didn’t realize that. Which was good, he didn’t need to worry about me.

Also alarming because usually he could tell when someone’s heart was racing (and he’d teased me about it more than once).

“I was hoping you weren’t being affected,” I groaned. My head felt full of cotton, like everything was in a soft focus and there was tea waiting for me when I sat down, that kind of feeling.

“All I can smell is them,” He growled, taking a step towards me.

“Sit down and buckle up,” I told him, my voice a bit shaky. There was a terrible ache between my thighs, like someone had scooped out my insides and were about to carve me like a pumpkin.

Logan stepped closer and for a second I thought he was going to listen. If I had them all held, maybe it would be easier. Maybe I could focus on holding them still instead of the fact I really wanted to know if Logan’s tongue tasted like cigars or not.

I bet it did.

“I want to smell you,” Logan’s pupils were blown beautifully wide. “And only you,” he was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the entire universe. I wished it was true, that he felt that way about me. But I knew it was whatever we’d been covered with. I knew it wasn’t real.

“Sit down,” My voice was weaker than I wanted it to be.

“Why can’t I smell you?” He was almost just talking to himself, annoyed that he could smell everyone else’s arousal over mine.

I walked backwards towards the captain’s and copilot's chair, pleased that Logan followed. But I wasn’t quick enough and he managed to get his hands on my hips. I brought my hands up between us, pushing him away.

But he was always so much stronger than me, so I struggled to get any space between us. Besides, as soon as he was in my space, something in me really wanted to drown in him instead. Consequences be damned.

“If I drop you here, I can’t lift your heavy… heavy ass off the floor,” I panted as he leaned down to inhale deeply at my throat. I surprised myself at the whimper that left me when he placed the first open mouth kiss at the only skin exposed on my neck over my suit.

“Fuck,” He moaned so low in his chest I could feel it vibrate in mine. “Let me just… just touch you for a second,”

“Logan, it’s not real,” I told him. It didn’t ease the ache in my gut but it helped keep my mind clear. Plus there were four different strings already pulling my brain tight. I was wildly, uncomfortably aroused, but I wasn’t about to lose control just because the man I had a crush on was kissing my neck.

When did he unzip the top of my suit to get to more skin?

“Please,” He moaned against my throat again. “Just one kiss, then I’ll behave, promise.”

“I don’t believe you,” I murmured, trying desperately to push him away. But it felt so nice to have him like this. It was something I’d thought about far more times than I’d ever admit to anyone. And my hand was in his hair.

But it wasn’t real, he didn’t really want me.

Why would he?

“Y/N,” Logan groaned as his hands moved to find my chest. I gasped at the sensation of his warm hand covering one of my breasts. I wanted so badly to surrender to the feeling, to let him touch and feel and devour me whole.

But I knew it wasn’t real, and that hurt differently enough that I finally got my last two working brain cells together to push him off.

“Fuck, Logan, sit your punkass down,” I snapped, feeling tears in my throat. It would be so much easier to give in. To at least feel something good for once. To finally figure out what it would feel like to be with him.

But it wasn’t real, wasn’t real, wasn’t real… and I knew I would hate myself when it was over if I gave in now.

Logan gave me a sassy smirk, watching me breathing hard as a reaction to him and what he’d done.

“Don’t you feel it too?”

“I don’t feel anything,” I lied. The snap of my words seemed to surprise him, but only deterred him long enough for me to sit myself in the Captain’s chair and buckle in. “Now, don’t touch me,” I commanded him. I knew if he touched me too much I’d give in. That at some point, the effects would overwhelm me too. Best to keep him away.

“No,” He growled. “Wanna smell you, wanna touch you, wanna fuck you,” His eyes were so hazy and it made my center pulse with need and that empty, endless ache. But the endless ache was an old friend, I’d sat with her before. I could sit with her now too.

“I need to call the mansion,” I told him.

Maybe ignoring him would help keep him at bay. I knew it wouldn’t. Even without the nonsense going on, he’d never been a particularly good listener unless he wanted to be.

And he sure didn’t want to be right now.

“Don’t interrupt or I’ll not let you smell me ever again,” I told him. This seemed to work better as he sat cross legged next to me on the floor, perked up like a dog waiting for a bone after having done a trick. I felt a wave of lust wash over me at his eagerness to please me. My core ached, knowing he’d gladly lap me up for his reward.

“Did you find it?” Charle’s voice over the radio should have been a relief but it made me angry because it wasn’t the right voice. But I bit back my annoyance and tried to respond coherently.

“We’re flying back.” My voice was choppy as I took too many breaths. “I have everyone but Logan frozen, we…we were dosed with something,”

“Y/N,” Logan grumbled impatiently.

“What’s happening?”

“Umm…” I suddenly was too embarrassed to say what was going on.

“Y/N? Is everyone alright?” The alarm in Charles’ voice snapped my brain cells together with enough force I was able to manage one sentence.

“They’re trying to fuck each other,”

“Oh.” The embarrassment would have killed me had Logan not gotten impatient and started sniffing along my leg, pressing open mouth kisses along the seams of my pants. I swatted at him, trying to get him to knock it off. He just smirked and kept pressing, glad to at least have my hand in his hair.

“I have them frozen, but Logan…” My voice got caught in my throat as Logan moved to bury his face in my hip, nuzzling and smelling his way up my ribs until his face was in my armpit. “Jesus fuck, knock it off,” I whined like a kid who was late for nap time. All upset and no anger. I felt tears in my eyes and in my throat because this was all simply Too Much.

“Are you safe to get everyone home?” Charles redirected. I grabbed Logan’s face and glowered at him.

“Take a nap,” I told him and tried to snag him in my powers. It worked but he was frozen with an arm across my lap and his face trying to find a way into my suit. “Sorry, I had to freeze Logan too, but he’s harder to hold onto.” I tried to keep my words even. But I could feel all five of them now, like trying to hold onto the strings of too many balloons but only with my teeth.

“Y/N, can you fly everyone home?”

“Yeah, I think so. Best prepare them for us, tell Hank it was Malachi Mitchelle, maybe that’ll help.” Logan’s string slipped in my mental grip and he growled as he pulled himself free.

“Gotta go,” Logan said loud enough for Charles to hear as he sat up on his knees to turn off the radio connection. “Now, you,” His eyes were hungry and his gaze made my insides twist with want.

“Logan, please just stop,” I begged. I was specifically trying not to feel anything for him, to not let him do something he’d regret later. I knew he didn’t want this. At the moment, I’m not sure any of us really did.

“No,” He challenged me. Logan’s hands traced my body, one moved around to the inside of my thigh and inched its way closer to my center. He held my eyes, daring me to tell him I didn’t want this.

But this wasn’t about what I wanted.

“It’s not real, you don’t want this,” I felt those tears again, warm in my throat and stinging behind my eyes. He looked up at me and brushed the tears from one of my cheeks with his thumb.

“No, I do want this… I’m always gonna… never going to stop,” He was breathing heavily but smirking. My center pulsed and squeezed around nothing because dammit all if that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.

Logan’s smirk got lost when he buried his face into the crease made by my leg and hip. He breathed in the scent of me again and the moan that escaped him had my heart ricocheting in my chest.

“Never going to get enough of the smell of you.” I found my hands in his hair, fingers intertwined in his tuffs as if I had the strength to pull him away from my lap.

“Why?” I asked more as a general question, ‘why is this happening to me?’ or ‘why do I bother trying to be good?’ or maybe even a bit of ‘why would you say that to me?’

“Cuz I love you,” Logan murmured against my stomach. I looked down at him, that ache in my pelvis shimming at the closeness of him. But the ache in my chest? That longing for something real? It burned brighter. I knew he wasn’t trying to tease me this time and somehow that made it worse.

While influenced he probably thought he was telling the truth.

I couldn’t take it when I knew the fall would come when this madness passed. The look in his eyes when he realized ‘oh god, what have I done?’.

I felt tears in my throat again. I wished what he said was true, that his ardent behavior was stemming from somewhere real and true. But it wasn’t.

It simply wasn’t.

I grabbed his face in one hand, the other still in his hair, and squeezed his cheeks together while he looked at me like he never wanted to look at anything else.

“Go the fuck to sleep, you petulant child,” I ground out, all the anger in me aimed at myself and the fact that I had to deny myself this wonderful thing. This thing my body craved.

This time, Logan’s eyes went hazy and blank, his jaw went slack, and his limbs all buckled under him. I finally had him wound tight enough to hold.

But now I had to hold him, and the other four, for the next 43 and half minutes. Which was the expected time remaining, according to the flight data that flashed on one of the panels. I had no idea if I could hold on to everyone that long, especially Logan who was too good at shaking off my powers.

[Masterlist]

[Logan Masterlist]

[Part Two!]

Likes/comments/reblogs directly correlate to how much fanfiction/fanart you see ;)

303 notes · View notes

andvys · 5 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter nineteen ⭐︎ For you, I would ruin myself, a million little times

Warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of loss, insecurities, allusions to depression, mentions of cheating (jancy), sad memories, fluff at the end (with Steve, yes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You take a painful road down memory lane and it makes you question everything.

Word count: 10.4k+

⭐︎ as always a special shoutout to @hellfire--cult thanks for plotting and writing with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

“Are you ready to tell me or not?”

You look up from your plate, still chewing on the pasta that Eddie had cooked, you put down the fork and reach for your pepsi as you look at Max who stares at you with a tilted head, a knowing smile resting on her face.

You shake your head and furrow your brows at the girl, glancing at Eddie who looks just as confused as you do.

“Tell you what?”

Max picks up her garlic bread and shrugs, “about you and Steve and how you’ve been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs,” she says nonchalantly before she takes a bite.

You nearly choke on your drink, eyes growing wide, matching the ones of Eddie who seems to be just as surprised as you are, he even stopped eating.

You blink, trying to process her words.

“W-What?” Is all that you can say as you stare at the redhead, like a deer caught in headlights and with a pounding heart.

“You know, at first I thought Lucas was crazy for teasing Steve about you and making all those comments about how perfect you two are for each other, especially because Steve always seemed just as annoyed with you as you with him but then he suddenly had different reactions whenever Lucas said something about you and I noticed how red his cheeks got every time he looked at you all lovey dovey,” she holds her finger up, eyes growing wide as she pointing at you to stay quiet, “and then… and then! You both started disappearing at the same time and started whispering to each other, sitting next to each other when it’s something you wouldn’t have done before, not to mention the secret hand holding,” Max laughs, shaking her head at you.

Your eyes widen at her ‘lovey dovey’ comment, hope that has been rising in you more and more, burning warmly in your chest but Steve doesn’t look at you that way, does he?

Eddie stares at her, feeling impressed by her observations.

Just like him, you feel impressed too, shocked and a little nervous but not scared the way you would feel if it were anyone else but her. She can keep a secret and she is like a sister to you – and unfortunately, sisters always know everything and uncover secrets without a struggle.

“I don’t know how the others haven’t figured it out yet, you two are so obvious,” she snorts, picking up her fork again, she stabs her pasta onto it, “just as obvious as my mom and your uncle,” she says to Eddie who shrugs and nods in agreement, “I mean… does anyone actually believe that he’s fixing our fence? The fence is fine! … They go to Enzo’s like every Friday night, by the way.”

Eddie chuckles and takes a bite of his food, “it’s only a matter of time until you and your mom move in with us.”

You expect Max to roll her eyes at him but instead she smirks, “yeah, hope you’re ready to become my personal driver.”

“Am I not your personal driver already?” Eddie snorts. “I mean, you even got two personal drivers, didn’t you both go shopping this morning?” He asks, pointing between you.

“Yes we did, and we were very successful,” Max nods.

You aren’t surprised about Susan and Wayne, they’re truly very obvious and now you can’t help but wonder if you and Steve are the same, with the exception that you two aren’t dating… sadly.

Max looks away from Eddie, returning her gaze back to you, “so when were you gonna tell me that you and Steve are a couple?”

Eddie coughs, glancing at you sideways as he grimaces when he sees your falling expression.

“They’re not a couple,” Eddie says for you, noticing the way your eyes sadden and your lips curl downwards at his words.

Max furrows her brows, tilting her head at you and giving Eddie a look of confusion.

“What–”

“Yeah, Steve and I are not… dating.”

The past few weeks have felt like it though, it felt like there was something more between you and him, and after finding out that you have been the only girl for him these past few months, it started feeling even more like it.

Max stares at you now, eyebrows pulling up and eyes flashing with even more confusion, “but… huh?”

“They’re just having… uh… fun, Red,” Eddie chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back in his seat, “you know… adult fun.”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words, just the way she does before she gives him a deadpan look.

“I’m not five, Eddie! I know what they’re doing but that makes no sense!”

“What doesn’t make sense?” You ask and reach for your drink again.

She looks down bewildered, dropping her fork and waving with her hands as she points at you, “Billy had fun and you know how much fun he had!”

You chuckle and nod.

“But he never held hands with those girls or looked at them like… like he was in love or something! He had fun and then he moved on to… the next… fun. It’s different with you and Steve though!”

A sigh falls from your lips and your shoulders slump as you lean back.

Yeah, of course it’s different with you and Steve, the difference between Billy’s fun and your fun is that he never loved any of the girls he had been with, you on the other hand, are sickly and madly in love with the guy you are having ‘fun’ with and you are pretty certain that Steve doesn’t feel the same, no matter what anyone says.

Eddie glances at you, waiting for you to say something, to tell her the truth because he knows you will, you don’t seem to feel the need to hide from Max, knowing she won’t run off to her friends and tell them all about it and risking it reaching Steve, Max isn’t like that, especially not when it comes to you.

“It’s not, Max…” You sigh, looking down at your hands.

She raises her eyebrows again, squinting her eyes at you.

“So… you’re saying it’s actually just fun?” She asks like she almost wants to chuckle in amusement.

You sigh again and raise your head again, rolling your eyes, “well… yeah… no, I– fuck… no, no it’s not just fun… not for me.”

Eddie looks at you sadly, sighing too.

“And Steve?”

You shrug, despite the hope in you, you don’t know what he feels, if he even feels anything for you.

“It’s just… fun… for him?” You mumble, flinching at your own words.

“Uh… is it?” Max mumbles, not looking or sounding convinced.

“It’s what he said,” Eddie shrugs, rolling his eyes when he thinks back to the night he confronted you both, “and he seemed pretty set on it, he said it just that and nothing more when I found out about it.”

“Mhm.” You nod, hiding your face as you tilt your head down again, not wanting to show more feelings than necessary. “Can we talk about something else now, please?”

Eddie nods, “sure–”

“No,” Max shakes her head, “I wanna talk about this!”

“My relationship with Steve isn’t appropriate to discuss with a teenager–”

“Oh, so there is a relationship,” Max interrupts you, giving you a smug smirk.

“No, there isn’t, you know what I mean!”

She chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest, continuing to stare at you.

“So… Do you love him then?”

Your eyeroll is enough of an answer to that question.

“I knew it,” she murmurs under her breath, “and what about him, you think he doesn’t feel the same?” She asks, thinking that her own question sounds absurd, she saw the way Steve looked at you, multiple times already.

“I know he doesn’t,” you shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because he hated me, Max–”

“Yeah, he obviously hated you so so much, that’s why you’re holding hands now and kissing every time you think no one’s watching! I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t hold hands and kiss my enemy… oh! Or look at them with lovesick smiles and everything!”

You sigh again, tilting your head back as you look up at the ceiling.

This isn’t good for you, it really isn’t, you don’t need to be fed with more delusions.

“I think he feels the same, it’s pretty clear!”

“If it’s so clear then why isn’t it being talked about?” Eddie retorts, not feeling convinced of Max’s words, “why didn’t he say anything to change their relationship yet? I mean, he had no issue talking to his ex-girlfriend about his feelings for her when he knew she was with someone else! Oh and by the way, Nancy cheated on him and left him for someone else and he still confessed his feelings for her again… years later, he knew he would look like an absolute fool – which he did but that didn’t stop him! So what should stop him now, hm? He’s got nothing to lose with her!” Eddie points at you, “she never hurt him, she has no one else that he has to compete against, she fucking loves him! So him confessing his feelings for her wouldn’t ruin anything like it would have with Nancy or Jonathan if they reacted badly to his stupid confession!”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, ignoring the stinging in your heart.

You knew all about his love confession to Nancy – their conversation in the RV was only the first step towards it. You remember the jealousy you felt when he told her about his dream, about the kids and the future he always wished for, you knew who he saw by his side when he talked about it all. To find out that he confessed his love to her in the Upside Down made you feel even worse, especially when you were still recovering from all your injuries. Robin rambled away about it and told you every detail, you didn’t even ask for.

Eddie’s words make your heart ache yet again, you know he is right, but they kill your hope a little and you are holding onto it so tightly.

Max, on the other hand, refuses to agree with him, she squints her eyes at him, leaning closer to the table, “maybe he is scared, Eddie? Have you thought of that? I mean, the whole thing with Nancy was… a heat of the moment kind of thing, there was literally nothing between them but there is something between them!” She argues, pointing at you.

“I have thought about it,” Eddie nods, “but if I feel like I might lose someone I love for not saying anything to them, I damn right would do something!”

“I love him, Eddie,” you mumble, your cheeks heating up at your vulnerable confession in front of Max, “but I never plan on telling him how I feel, so…”

Max groans at your words and rolls her eyes, “two idiots, I swear to god, I bet Steve is feeling and saying the same shit to whoever else knows.”

“Robin,” Eddie nods at her.

Robin, yeah.

Robin who is suddenly not as fond of you as she was before, rolling her eyes and scoffing at you every chance she gets, irritating you a little more every time you’re around her now. You considered her a close friend before she suddenly turned on you and started acting weirdly towards you. You don’t know what her deal is but you suspect that she minds your presence around her best friend, fearing that you might ‘steal’ him from her because he is spending less time with her and more with you – as though she wasn’t the first to ditch him to be with Vickie.

“Great!” Max shrugs, “then why don’t you talk to her, try to get information out of her… since you two are accomplices?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head quickly, turning to Eddie in panic, “please don’t! Don’t talk to Robin, Eddie! She’s gonna tell Steve and if he doesn’t feel the same then…”

Eddie shakes his head at you, not needing you to finish the sentence. He reaches his hand out to you and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he sighs, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. He knows how deep your feelings are for Steve, how much you love him and how long you have loved him for already and now that you somewhat have him, you try to do everything to keep him, even when you are breaking your own heart in the process.

He isn’t fond of this affair because he has an idea of how it will end and he fears that day, knowing what it will do to you but he can’t do anything to change it, he can’t save you from heartbreak, knowing it will happen sooner or later.

You slump back in your seat, feeling pathetic for feeling this way, for holding on so desperately when there is only a small chance that there might be something and even that chance isn’t enough for you to go and find out the truth, not even when hope lingers in you after all the sweet moments you had with him.

Max looks at you in a way her brother once did, when he found out the truth and realized just how deep your feelings were, back then already.

You remember how the look in his eyes went from shock to confusion to sadness and sympathy.

And you remember how awkward and embarrassed you had felt that night.

It was raining outside, the windows were fogged and the smell of sex lingered in the room, you never knew what people meant by it when they mentioned that smell until that night. Your forehead was coated with sweat, your cheeks were glowing and feeling hot, your skin smelled like him, like his cologne and his aftershave, and your body felt different, not in a bad way, just in a foreign one.

You held the sheets tightly against your chest and looked out the window, watching as the rain paddled down the glass, a smile tugged at your lips and your chest wasn’t filled with sadness for once.

“Hey,” Billy said and pulled your attention back to him, “give me a smile.”

You turned your head to look at him, a giggle fell from your lips when you noticed the polaroid camera in his hands, his eyes were squinted and a smirk lingered on his face.

“Seriously?”

He took a picture of you before you reached forward and swatted the camera out of your face.

Billy leaned back from you and held the camera away so you couldn’t reach it, he laughed at the bashful expression on your face.

“Need a picture of your special first time,” he joked and laughed again when you rolled your eyes at him and blushed.

He took the picture out and started shaking it for reveal. He leaned back against your pillows and reached for his beer, drinking it while staring at you.

“Well, we are not doing that again,” he said and you knew that it would’ve offended many other girls, but not you, because you felt the same.

“Yeah, it didn’t feel right, did it?” You scrunched your nose.

“Not at all,” Billy laughed before his face grew serious as his eyes roamed your face, “do you feel alright?” He asked in concern because he noticed how distant you looked, like your mind was somewhere else or with someone else.

He straightened up and furrowed his brows at you, “who are you thinking about?”

You felt caught and you felt ashamed.

You never admitted your feelings for Steve to anyone, they didn’t even make sense so how could you even begin to describe them?

You looked down and closed your eyes, you pulled your brows together as though in pain and it only made him more curious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?” Billy asked and dropped the polaroid camera and the picture on the mattress beside him. He placed the beer back on the nightstand and grabbed his pack of cigarettes instead, “is he ugly?”

His question made you snort, you opened your eyes again and looked at his serious face.

“No, he is not ugly, not in the slightest.”

His lips curled downwards for a moment as he nodded, “do I know him?” He asked before he placed a cigarette between his lips.

You only gave him a look and that was enough to confirm his question.

He hummed and kept staring at you with a curious look on his face, he lit up his cigarette and threw the lighter on the nightstand, taking a long drag before he blew the smoke out.

“I do, huh?” He chuckled and squinted his eyes at you, “are you gonna tell me or are you gonna let me guess?”

You smirked and shrugged at him, you held the blanket tighter against your chest and reached for the camera beside him, “guess, Billy,” you teased him as though your heart didn’t start pounding from all the nervousness inside of you.

“Jesus,” he sighed in annoyance, “is he popular or a loser?”

You shrugged and squinted your eye as you brought the camera up to your face and wasted no second to take a picture of him too, he didn’t seem to mind, not like you did.

He started saying names, random names of guys you weren’t even sure went to Hawkins High. You kept shaking your head and saying no, you felt surprised that Steve’s name hadn't left his lips yet.

“Huh, it’s not the drug dealer is it? What’s his name again?”

“Uh… You mean Eddie?”

He nodded and pointed his finger at you, “yeah, him.”

You shook your head, “no, he’s cute but no, he’s not really my type,” you mumbled and sighed, “probably would’ve been better if it was someone like him, he’s nice, at least.”

He hummed and stared at you, he fell quiet for a while and his face grew serious after a few minutes, then his eyes widened and he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck… girl, please don’t tell me that it’s King Steve.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your face started burning beneath his gaze, you couldn’t stand to look into his eyes any longer so you broke eye contact and looked down at your hands in your covered lap.

“Shit…” He sighed and slumped back, looking at you in disbelief, like you had fallen in love with his arch nemesis.

“I know,” you mumbled in annoyance because you knew what he was about to say, “you don’t have to tell me how stupid I am, I already know that.”

Billy stayed quiet for a moment and stared at the pained expression on your face. Yeah, he was about to say something stupid about Steve, about his stupid hair and your feelings for him but when he looked closer – and he knew you pretty well at that point, he could see just how much pain lingered behind your eyes, how glassy they got and how your bottom lip wobbled just the slightest bit.

He was never the best with words and he certainly was never someone to give comfort, he didn’t even know how to, no one ever comforted him, only you did.

He bit his tongue and swallowed the bitter words that were about to leave his lips.

He opened his mouth but shut it again when he saw you wiping away a tear.

Billy sighed and ran a hand through his mullet, he pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his eyes at the thought of the jock.

“It’s pretty serious isn’t it?”

You only nodded and said nothing.

“So… you’re like in love with him or some shit?”

“I guess so,” you whispered even though you knew for certain. “Feels like it’s tearing my heart apart or something every time I see him, every time he says something dumb to me.”

“How…?” He asked and sighed again, “shit, I knew you liked him, you wouldn’t have defended him every chance you got but I thought you were just being nice to that fucker… Jesus…”

You shook your head again and slowly looked up at your best friend, “I can’t give you an answer, Billy. I don’t know how it happened, it just… happened. That’s gonna sound so cheesy but… when I first saw him I just… I felt safe and comfortable… happy. He smiled at me when he passed me in the hallway and I just – I don’t know, I can’t explain this feeling and it doesn’t matter anyways, he turned out to be a dick who hates my guts so… I’ll get over these feelings someday.”

Billy didn’t believe your words and you didn’t either.

You have loved him at first sight and that never changed or lessened, your feelings kept getting worse and worse and it made no sense because he kept treating you badly.

You were infatuated with him, bewitched.

You expected Billy to judge you but he didn’t, you thought he would say bad things about Steve but he never did, at least not when it came to you and your feelings for him.

If anything, Billy encouraged you to act on your feelings, to get closer to him, to make a move and try.

And you did, but it only made everything worse.

And now, you stare at his sister and watch as she tries to do the same.

It went sideways the first time and you fear that it won’t go any different this time – yes, things have changed, you and Steve are something now, something you would have never seen coming a year before, especially after what happened when you did try to make a move on him. You just can not find it in yourself to even try, to gather all your confidence and use the sliver of hope to confess to him in hopes that he could feel the same, that you could be something more than what you are now.

You can feel that things have shifted into a different direction, the softness in his eyes, his gentle touches and acts of affection are proof of that and still, you fear rejection and losing this because this thing between you is just too fragile, too easy to break and ruin.

It’s not long ago that Steve couldn’t even bare to look at you without rolling his eyes or scoffing some cold words at you and you try not to think of them, to leave things in the past, to not go over his hurtful words again and again but something inside of you seems to manifest all the saddening and painful words your poor heart was attacked with in the past and you can’t fight off those memories, you try to but you can’t and it saddens you even more because the past few weeks with Steve, have been nothing but heavenly to you.

You woke up in his arms every morning, he held you through the night, woke you with kisses and cooked you breakfast, he held your hand and treated you as if you were his, like you were his girlfriend and he your boyfriend – you got a taste of something you always craved and longed for and that should bring you peace, it really should but he is showing you, giving you something that you know he will take away again when the time comes.

When you step into your house after dropping Max off at El’s, you make your way up to your bedroom and open your closet, looking for something comfortable to change into, when the navy blue color flashes in your peripheral vision. You grab a pair of your sleeping shorts and a random shirt of Steve’s, trying to ignore the dress that practically stares at you, forcing you to recall one of your worst memories.

You clutch your clean clothes to your chest and take a look at the pretty sundress you bought at the GAP store when Starcourt mall was still intact. You reach out to touch it, pinching the thin material between your thumb and your pointer finger, a sad smile tugs at your lip when you think back to the day you bought it – just to look pretty for him.

Your best friend kept encouraging you, filling you with hope that you could have a chance with Steve, that he wouldn’t say no to you if you tried to make a move, if you tried to ask him out, if you went after your feelings. Week after week had passed and Billy forced confidence onto you and pushed you towards a guy he didn’t even like.

You kept denying his words, you knew you had no chance with him, not even after you graduated from high school, not even after Steve had changed and his mean words became less harsh.

And yet, a part of you listened to Billy, that naive and hopeful part of you that really wanted her crush to like her back and give her the chance she always wanted.

You bought a pretty dress, you got your hair done and did your makeup, lighter and girlier than usual, you put on your favorite perfume and jewelry and you decided to give it a try – you shouldn’t have, you should’ve listened to your brain and not your heart.

The mall was bustling with people, kids were running around the water fountain, a group of young girls rushed past you, giggling in excitement as they carried their many shopping bags, you were standing in front of Scoops Ahoy, with your cheeks burning and your heart racing.

In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing, you came up with no plan before you came here, you just woke up that morning and decided that Billy was right, that you could take a chance and go after what you wanted – you had nothing to lose, except for your dignity. Besides, you were no longer in school, if things went wrong, you could easily avoid him.

You had taken a look inside, only a few teenagers sat by the window, it wasn’t crowded, not in the slightest. You saw him, he was standing behind the counter with his back turned to you as he was talking to his co-worker who spoke to him through the small window between them.

Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to the side, a smile lingered on his face as he nodded along to the music that played on the radio.

You could have still turned back, you could have still left without being seen, without having made a fool of yourself. But you didn’t, you didn’t turn around, you didn’t change your mind, you walked into your own demise.

You took a deep breath and walked up to the counter, you twisted the ring on your finger and focused on him. He looked so good, even in his silly uniform, he looked so pretty. His sailor hat was laying on the counter and he was twisting the ice cream scooper in his hand, he only turned around when his co-worker, Robin, nudged her chin at you before she turned her back to him and disappeared further into the room.

You blinked and breathed heavily as you realized that you didn’t even know what to say, you didn’t prepare for this, you were never good with words or conversing with boys, you didn’t know how to flirt – well, you did, Billy taught you, but you had never used your newly learned skill before.

And when Steve turned around to face, it was too late to think of what to say, anyways.

“Ahoy–” his cheerful words cut short and the smile on his face fell when he saw you, “oh, it’s you.”

That should have been enough to change your mind, to make you turn back and run the other way.

“Hi Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he slid his scooper back into place, he put his hands on the counter and sighed.

“Blondie,” he nodded.

You were too nervous to see the way he looked at you, the way his eyes roamed your face and your styled hair, your glowing skin and your pretty dress, the way his cheeks changed color as he kept staring at you.

“What can I get for you?” He asked and cleared his throat as he gestured to the many ice cream flavors.

You shifted and tilted your head to the side, your hair fell from your shoulder and down your back. He looked again, at your exposed skin, at the dainty chain around your neck.

“I uh… I’m… I don’t know yet,” you stuttered and felt yourself growing more nervous than before.

Steve sighed and looked away from you, “of course,” he murmured under his breath.

Your cheeks burned hotly, your eyes felt heavy and you looked down as you already felt the regret rushing through your body. You wanted to say something, anything, but all your words were caught in your throat, everything you would’ve said if he liked you a little more were stuck and frozen.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, you looked at his face and wondered why you even let Billy encourage you and talk you into doing this. The few ‘nice’ interactions you had with Steve meant nothing. The smile he wore on his lips before could never be directed at you, the soft look in his hazel eyes disappeared the moment he saw you, the tone in his voice changed in an instant.

“How are you…?” You asked, cringing at yourself, at the question, at the shakiness in your voice.

He looked back at you and raised his eyebrows, an unamused chuckle fell from his lips.

“What do you want?” He asked and shrugged at you, “we’re out of high school, we don’t have to see each other anymore and I know you’re not here for ice cream, you usually don’t have an issue making a decision, so why are you here, Blondie?”

You could not help but draw back as a cold shudder ran down your spine, you blinked and looked down.

You missed the look of guilt that flashed in his eyes when he watched you step back and you closed your eyes for a moment, your brows scrunched together as though in pain.

He was always this way, you knew what you were stepping into, you knew how he would react and you couldn’t blame him, you weren’t exactly nice to him in school and snapped back at him every time he threw a rude comment at you.

You swallowed and took a deep breath, you looked back up at him, at the hazel eyes you always loved so much.

Steve huffed and he took a deep breath, he stared at you intensely and you didn’t know what it meant, a part of you thought that it was his hatred, the other was foolishly hopeful.

“Yeah… I know but I just… I thought that maybe we could,” you paused as your heart felt as though it was about to tear from your chest any moment. He looked at you so intensely, he made you feel so small beneath his gaze.

“We could what?” He asked a little too harshly and made you cower back.

“This was a bad idea,” you whispered to yourself and took another step back, “I’m sorry I just…”

“What’s up with you?” Steve mumbled and furrowed his brows at you, confused at the side of you he never met before. “Did you miss being annoying so much that you had to come bother me at work, Blondie?”

You heard the teasing in his voice, you saw the sliver of amusement in his eyes but you really only focused on the way your heart clenched in pain and how regret took on full control.

You rolled your eyes, not at him but at yourself, at your foolishness.

Of course he doesn’t want to see you, why would he?

He never liked you and he certainly wouldn’t start now, he would probably laugh into your face if you asked for what you came for – a date.

Your cheeks were nearly hurting from all the blushing, your heart was skipping and pounding, your hands felt clammy. You never felt the need to cry in front of him, you never felt vulnerable around him because your walls were always high up and guarded by a second layer, now you came without protection and decided to let yourself be vulnerable for once, only to feel like breaking down from the embarrassment that was gnawing at you.

“Cat got your tongue? That’s new…” He chuckled and stared you down still, eyebrows still furrowed and lips pursed. His hardened expression fell a little and something else took over, something you couldn’t read. “Did someone stand you up?”

Steve wasn’t used to your silence so you weren’t surprised about the confusion on his face. You looked at him again and caught him eyeing you up and down, his eyes lingered on your dress for longer than necessary.

His question went unanswered and he grew frustrated with you.

“Can’t blame them if they did,” he mumbled, throwing daggers at your heart.

That stung.

Normally his words would’ve angered you and you would’ve shot back straight away, despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t have kept quiet or struggled to say something back but not today, today you let him hurt you – deep down you knew this would happen, this was always how you interacted, he said something mean and then you would too. His words were nothing new and yet they cut deep.

You swallowed hard and dug your nails into your palms, your breathing quickened and you knew you had to get out of here but something kept you standing, you felt as though you were frozen.

Steve coughed awkwardly and looked away for a moment, he grabbed his scooper again, “so… wanna eat your feelings or what?” He asked and pointed at the many flavors, eyes back on you.

“No–”

“Hi, Steve!”

You nearly flinched at the high pitched voice and had to hold back the eyeroll when you saw the girl next to you, who didn’t bother to hide the dirty looks she gave you before she returned her attention back to him, flashing him a sickly sweet smile that made his eyes light up.

The girl used to be on the cheer team, very popular and gossipy, unkind and one of the most unpleasant people you have met – and she usually spends her Saturday nights in Billy’s sheets.

Steve’s eyes were no longer on you, instead they were stuck on the pretty girl beside you, he eyed her up and down, not with distaste or annoyance but with interest and a smirk on his lips.

“Hey, how are you?” He asked and leaned against the counter, a flirty look crossed his face, “you look amazing, Olivia.”

She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger, she licked her lips as she eyed him like she was hungry.

“So do you.”

Steve smirked at her and chuckled softly.

At that point, you didn’t know what you felt because your sadness ran so deep, you didn’t have it in yourself to feel jealous anymore.

You just felt like a fool.

And you felt angry, at yourself and at him for being so horrible to you. Olivia’s giggles did nothing to make you feel less horrible, like nails on chalkboard her voice was irritating you in the worst way possible, so before leaving, you turned towards her and when she met your gaze with a fake smile, you matched the look on her face.

“Wouldn’t waste your time here, Olivia,” you said her name, mockingly and looked her up and down, not feeling jealous over the ugly sandals or the green skirt she was wearing. “He only flirts to pass time. Besides, isn’t that your boyfriend waiting for you?” You asked and tilted your head at the guy in front of the store, he was already glaring at Steve.

Olivia clenched her jaw and glared at you, huffing in annoyance which gave you a little satisfaction.

“Better not leave him waiting or someone might tell him what or who you do every Saturday night.”

Her pale face grew even… paler and you couldn’t even bite back the smirk, despite the blow that was just delivered to your heart.

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked between you, he saw the way you blinked, fastly, he saw how glassy your eyes were despite the look on your face.

You turned back to him and looked at him with a straight face, “you usually don’t mind sharing your girls though, do you? So… go nuts,” you shrugged before you turned around and walked away from him, not planning to look back.

You should have, you should have looked back because then you would’ve seen the guilt in his eyes, the regret that crossed his features, the tension that slipped off his shoulders and the disinterest that took over for the girl in front of him. The sadness that flashed in his eyes for missing an opportunity, for letting you go like this.

But you didn’t, you kept going and you rushed back out into the bustling mall, you blinked away the tears and made your way back home. You tore the dress off your skin the moment you stepped into your room.

And you never wore it again.

You roll your eyes at yourself for feeling pain for the girl you were a year before, for still hurting because of the things he said to you, for the way he looked at you, for the way he flirted with a different girl in front of you.

The past doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter, especially not now, not anymore – not after what you have gone through together, not after he changed, not after he started treating you differently, not after all the nights and mornings you have spent with each other, not after all the gentle touches, not after the way he kissed you and held you close that one night, not after he called you late at night just to hear your voice.

He is different now, you are different now, you aren’t the teenagers you were a year back.

The past shouldn’t hurt.

You slam the closet door shut and walk out of your room and into the bathroom, you start the shower, letting the water warm up while you take off your clothes. You feel frustration bubbling inside of you, the conversation with Max and her encouraging words triggered all the memories that you refused to think about in these past few months.

The day at Scoops Ahoy made you sad and angry, it made you want to never see him again, you avoided the mall after that day and you didn’t see much of him after. You hated yourself for hoping, for going after your feelings, for believing that you could have a chance after Billy’s encouragement – Billy who pushed you away only a week later, with harsh words and a mean look on his face, he pushed you away when you needed him the most and you felt alone again, so alone. At that time, you didn’t understand why he did it, why he didn’t want you in his life anymore, you didn’t know that he was just trying to protect you from the upside down, from himself.

And then he died and you lost yourself completely.

You drowned your sorrows in alcohol and kissed the lips of strangers, you let them touch you in hopes that you would feel something, you woke up in their beds and hated yourself after because no matter how good they were to you, how nice the conversations went, how much they made you laugh, how nice they made you feel, they couldn’t make you forget about the friend you lost, they couldn’t make you forget about him, they couldn’t give you what you wanted, what you needed, what you longed for.

You searched for glimpses of Steve in every man you kissed and you hated yourself for it because you wondered why you even felt that way for someone who couldn’t even stand you, who hated you with all his being.

What made you fall in love with him?

What tied you to him the way it did?

Because he never gave you a reason to fall in love with him back then, he treated you unkindly from the moment you met and yet you couldn’t help your feelings, you couldn’t help but adore him, you couldn’t help but admire him.

You even felt your own heart break when you found out about what Nancy did to him, how she broke his heart so carelessly, how she cheated on him with her friend.

And you felt it break even more when he still wanted her, even after everything she did to him, he loved hard, just like you did, like you do. No matter what she did to him, he still loved her.

And now, you can’t help but ask yourself the question that you have always avoided.

Does he still have feelings for her?

You wonder if he still wants her, if he still wishes for a future with her, if she is still the one he craves by his side.

He doesn’t look at her the way he used to, not anymore, he doesn’t seem sad around her the way he did after she rejected him and yet, you still wonder, if you are just someone he passes time with while he hopes that she might change her mind in the future. If you are the person he finds comfort in because he can feel that you love him the way she never did.

Are you the replacement? The filler?

You feel yourself crashing, the water feels hot on your skin but you feel the shudder running down your spine, the goosebumps that rise on your skin make you shiver, your throat tightens and your eyes blur with tears as your heart clenches in your chest.

You wipe your tears in anger even though your whole face is wet from the water pouring down on you, you turn off the water and open the curtain in anger, you reach for your towel and wrap it around your body.

You wipe the fog off the mirror and look at your reflection, at the marks on your neck, at the tears running down your cheeks.

Are you stupid for crying when you knew exactly what you were signing up for?

You always knew what this was to him and you were satisfied with it because you just wanted him, no matter how, you wanted him and you got him.

But you can’t stop your heart from aching because somehow, you fell even harder for him and you can’t stop from hurting when you think about what you are to him and what you might never be.

Just sex.

A friend… nothing more than a friend, that’s what he said, you are just a friend.

The confidence that only started growing inside of you not too long ago begins to crumble and you don’t know how to stop it from falling apart.

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and the thoughts that drive you mad. You take a look around, at the things he left in your bathroom, his toothbrush next to yours, his body wash and shampoo in your shower, his Farrah Fawcett hairspray that no one can know about.

Would all this be here if you didn’t mean something to him?

Would he have made space in one of his drawers just for your stuff if this meant nothing?

Would he have let you in if he still wanted someone else?

Does he even still want someone else?

You huff in annoyance for letting yourself fall into this spiral of overthinking. You feel as though all these questions come to haunt you for pushing them away all these weeks and now you feel a headache coming and you grow irritated with yourself and with your insecurities.

You shut them down as best as you can and busy yourself with other things, you moisturize your skin and blow dry your hair. You put on your fresh clothes and comb through your hair before you leave the bathroom, it’s much darker in the hallway than expected, the grayish clouds hide the sun and the sound of thunder rumbles in the far distance, drops of rain already paint your windows.

Goosebumps rise on your skin and an unsettling feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach. You feel the cold wind on your exposed skin from the open window in your bedroom, you make your way inside, pushing the blowing curtains away as you reach forward to shut the window.

Lightning surges through the sky, deep purple colors flash in the darkening clouds far away. You would’ve felt your heart dropping by now if you didn’t notice the burgundy car parked in your driveway, the door opens and he steps out, a second later, a brown paper bag in his hand and something tucked beneath his arm, he shuts the door and locks it, wasting no time to find shelter under the roof on your porch as it starts raining harder.

Instead of dropping, your heart skips a beat, forgetting all about the pain it just felt from the saddening thoughts in your mind.

Through all your overthinking and pondering, you forgot that he was coming over.

You shut the window and rush downstairs, opening the door as he rings the doorbell for a second time. A frown lingers on his face but it disappears when his eyes lock with yours as soon as you open the door and a smile tugs at his lips instead.

“Hey Blondie,” he breathes and rushes inside when you step aside to let him in, “looks like the end of the world out there.”

“Hi…”

You close the door and lock it before you turn around to face him.

Steve kicks off his shoes and throws the movie tapes that were tucked beneath his arm on the counter where you keep your keys and sunglasses, he puts his keys into the little bowl and then he steps towards you and reaches for your hand, he pulls you towards him and takes you by surprise when he leans down and smacks his lips against yours, kissing you shortly. Greeting you with a kiss, something he had never done before.

Your eyes widen a little and your throat tightens for a different reason now, you stare at him, unable to hide the surprised look on your face.

And Steve, he furrows his brows and his smile falls a little, not because of your widened eyes but because of the glassiness in them, he frowns as worry swirls in his chest.

“Hey,” he murmurs and lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek, “is everything okay?”

You blink.

Your heart jumps at his action, at the question, at the concern in his soft brown eyes. You breathe in deeply, you open and close your mouth a few times, unable to find the right words.

You didn’t cry all that much, it’s not so visible on your face, is it?

“Did something happen?” He asks, a little softer this time.

You shake your head, “n-no, I’m fine, just tired, I’m probably coming down with something…” You lie.

“In the summer?”

You force a smile and look down, shrugging, “guess I’m not that strong…”

“Well, then let me take care of you,” he whispers and caresses your cheek.

You wonder if he knows what he does to you with such words and actions, you sometimes wish he knew that your heart leaps every time he does such things, maybe then he would take pity on you and not fill you with so much hope, even in your worst moments.

You nod at him and let him take your hand back in his, he gives you a sweet smile that nearly makes you crumble.

“So how was your day?” Steve asks as he tugs you along with him and leads you into your kitchen.

You swallow the lump in your throat and shrug, “good, I went shopping with Max and then we ate lunch with Eddie.”

Steve smiles at that, he places the brown paper bag on the kitchen table and turns to face you.

The soft look in his eyes and the smile on his lips makes you feel guilty for the thoughts that rushed through your mind just moments before. This side of him is the only one you have known in the past few weeks, the gentle and sweet side you never thought you’d ever get to see.

“I got us dinner, burgers and fries but I got the fancy ones from Enzo’s,” he chuckles and lets go of your hand, stepping away from you and towards the sink. “Did you find anything?” He asks as he runs the water and uses the hand soap you always leave in your kitchen to wash his hands.

You furrow your brows at his question, feeling a little lost and confused.

“Hm?”

“When you went shopping.”

“Oh.” You nod your head, you went back to the jewelry store to look for new rings and the necklace you fell in love with but it was already gone, it would’ve looked pretty with the dress you picked out for Joyce’s and Hopper’s wedding. “Yeah, I finally got a dress for the wedding… oh and shoes… and makeup.”

Steve smiles fondly when he turns back to you, “what color is your dress?”

“Uh, it’s black,” you say and walk over to the fridge to grab a drink for you both, “sounds boring, right? But it’s really pretty and I got some pink heels to go with it.”

“It doesn’t sound boring,” he shakes his head at you and carries two plates to the kitchen table, “besides, you look gorgeous in anything.”

You freeze.

Your eyes grow wide and your cheeks start burning.

Gorgeous?

He surely never called you that before, especially not after greeting you with a kiss on your lips.

“T-Thanks, Steve.”

He hums in response and you look back at him to see him placing the food on the plates, putting more fries on yours than on his. His brows are pulled together in concentration, his lips pressed together, his hair looks a little messed up from the wind but he looks so cute like this.

And you can’t help but think of how intimate this all is, him kissing you after walking in, him asking you about your day and the color of your dress, him plating your dinner.

You can’t help but hate yourself for all the overthinking and reminiscing of the things that happened in the past.

You close the fridge with a sigh and make your way back to the table, placing the coke in front of his plate.

“Thanks, Honey.”

You give him a smile and sit down across from him, looking down at the delicious food in front of you, “I’m horrible, you always cook for us or order something and I never do anything.”

Steve shakes his head, glaring at you, “you’re not horrible and that’s not true, you cooked breakfast and dinner before.”

You pop open your soda can, “yeah, I made french toast and sandwiches.”

“Yeah and it was amazing, now shut up and eat your dinner, kid,” he says playfully, his eyes glinting with amusement when you laugh.

You push your hair out of your face and pick up the burger, unaware of the fond smile that tugs at his lips as he watches you take a bite. His eyes roam your face, your eyes are a little red and he can’t help but think that you lied to him about feeling sick, you look fine, you just look a little… sad and it makes him feel upset because he knows that you won’t talk about it, especially not with him but he wants to be there for you, he wants to give you a shoulder to cry on, to lean on, he wants to give you comfort.

He looks down at the shirt on your body and when he recognizes it, his eyes lighten up and warmth blooms in his chest, it’s his shirt.

He bites back the smile as he looks down and starts eating too, welcoming the comfortable silence between you as the rain paddles down the windows, the thunder still crashing somewhere, far away.

You flinch every time a loud crash booms through the sky, it’s nothing new to him, he noticed it the very first time it happened. Every time the sky turns a little darker and the wind picks up, you fidget and get anxious. He wonders if it’s a fear you have taken with you from the upside down or if it is something that accompanied you before, he never dared to ask before.

Every time he showed up during a storm, your eyes were filled with fear and your hands were shaking. You would relax and calm down a few minutes after his arrival, his presence seems comforting to you and it’s why he rushes to get to you every time he sees the dark clouds and hears the thunder.

“Hey Blondie?”

You look up at him through your lashes and raise your eyebrows, “yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

You put down your burger and reach for your drink, nodding at him.

“Have you always been afraid of storms?”

You seem to be taken aback as you stare at him and blink, not moving or saying anything just yet and he fears that he crossed a line.

“I just, I noticed that you flinch at every crash.”

You always tried to hide your reactions, not wanting to seem scared or weak, and usually no one ever noticed things about you that you didn’t want them to see but Steve seems to see right through you.

His hazel eyes aren’t filled with judgment or amusement, just with curiosity and… a hint of concern?

You take a sip of your drink and sit back, relaxing your shoulders as you look into his eyes.

“Yeah, I just, I guess it got stuck with me from when I was a kid,” you chuckle and roll your eyes, “I know, embarrassing right?”

He shakes his head and frowns, “no, not at all.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad when I was a kid, it got worse when I was a teen. My parents would go on these business trips sometimes and trusted my sister to look after me but she used those opportunities to go hang out with friends or go to parties or whatever else she was doing,” you explain, not looking away from him, “and I hated being alone, it probably didn’t help that I watched horror movies every time I was alone.”

Steve chuckles at that, though he can’t help but feel sad for you.

His parents left too, hell, they still do. To know that you were in a similar situation as him when you were younger fills him with regret, knowing that he could have been there for you and you for him, if he just wasn’t such a dick to you.

“I just always got so anxious whenever I heard the howling wind and the loud thunder, it felt like the fear paralyzed me in a way… I don’t know, does that even make sense?”

Steve nods, “yeah, yeah it makes sense.”

But now he wonders how the hell you jumped into the water to save him, after everything that you had been told about the upside down, about the storms, about the monsters, you still jumped into the water when he was pulled under. You knew what was waiting for you on the other side and you still did it.

“B-But how… I… the upside down was filled with storms?”

You would’ve jumped into a hurricane if it meant saving his life.

“I wasn’t going to prioritize my fears over your life, Steve.”

Steve feels a little stunned, he knows how paralyzing fears can get, how they can hold you back from everything, but you, you didn’t care about your fears, about yourself, knowing that it could’ve ended badly for you down there, you cared more for him than you did for yourself, even when he was nothing but an asshole to you who treated you like shit.

If he knew you, the real you, he wouldn’t have been so harsh to you, he wouldn’t have been so… cold. He would have never said a single bad word to you but he thought you were cruel and he thought you hated him so he gave you a side of him that didn’t even exist, it was an act, nothing more, nothing less and he regrets it more than anything.

He regrets every word he said to you before this. And he feels as though he doesn’t deserve this, you, not even in this way, not after everything he said to you and about you.

He wants nothing more than to take it all back, to make it up to you.

And as you sit there in front of him, with red rimmed eyes that prove that you have cried before he came here, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over again.

But instead of doing that and risking making you uncomfortable, he slides his plate closer to you and changes seats so he is right next to you, he ignores the confused look you give him and the question you were gonna ask before he grabs your face and kisses you, making you gasp in surprise.

You melt into the kiss quickly, despite the confusion that lingers in you. You place your palm on the side of his neck and kiss him back softly.

And just like that, your worries and your anxious thoughts fade away into nothing, his touch, his kisses, he makes you forget about all the sadness that gnawed at you before, for a moment, they don’t matter and they won’t be back till later.

For a moment, you’re allowed to feel hopeful and confident again.

When his hand finds your waist and his lips move slowly and softly with yours, when he hums into the kiss and pulls you closer, when he makes you feel special.

Steve’s eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and opens his eyes again, smiling softly as he pecks your lips once more before he moves back, like he didn’t just steal your breath and made your heart pound wildly.

“What was that for?” You breathe.

“To calm you down from the storm,” he shrugs, chuckling at his own words.

“Why do you think a kiss would calm me down?”

“I don’t know, I read it in a magazine,” he lies and looks down at his food with rosy cheeks and a sheepish smile.

A giggle falls from your lips.

“Right,” he nods and points a finger at you, still smiling, “it’s scientifically proven that kisses help with the distraction.”

“Mhmm,” you hum and nod, “right, totally yeah.”

Instead of tears, you’re biting back a smile now, falling right back into the state you are always in when you’re around him – into bliss.

You continue eating and you ask him about his day, you push your plate towards him, sharing your fries with him once he practically inhales the ones on his plate. He keeps on talking, the whole time you sit at the kitchen table you ate your meals alone at, he tells you all the gossip he’s heard from Robin, keeping you entertained and making you giggle, making you forget about the raging storm behind you or the pain you felt before, he makes you forget about everything.

And you thought this would be like any other night you spent with him.

But it wasn’t.

Steve didn’t sleep with you that night, and you didn’t initiate it either. The storm was at full blast over your house, and Steve made sure to have the TV at full volume when watching the movies he stole. He mentioned Keith was busy trying to talk to a female customer and he didn’t even look at Steve when he shoved them down his shirt.

You laughed with him, giggled, and – are you the replacement? Are you really? Or are you actually in his heart?

The past tells you that you are the filler for the holes in his heart, but the present– the present tells you otherwise. It tells you that there might be a chance. His smile tells you that he likes spending time with you. The frown over his eyes when something happens to you tells you he is worried for you. The way he is possessive over you tells you that he considers you his.

Is it foolish to believe in the present? Is it foolish to simply forget about the past? Is it foolish you cannot and won’t let go of him? Is it foolish to simply love him, with no reason at all?

And you just know… that Billy never once said it was.

Billy who wouldn’t want you to give up. Billy who wouldn’t want you to go back into the past. Billy who would want you to keep living in the present. Billy who would still encourage you if he were here. Billy who helped you pick that dress at the GAP to shoot your shot that day at Scoops.

Billy never gave up on your love for Steve.

You shouldn’t either.

And you won’t.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dwoht — chapter nineteen #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

808 notes · View notes

jazjelspen · 8 months ago

Text

my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat.

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically.

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking.

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that.

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin.

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear.

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here.

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at.

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before.

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff.

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have.

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies.

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks.

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets.

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell.

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc.

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life.

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him.

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do.

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show.

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive.

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness.

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement.

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..'

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment.

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile.

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before.

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind.

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up!

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.."

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach.

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest.

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do.

“_____?”

“Yes?..”

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice..

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work.

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day.

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too.

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands.

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall.

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

563 notes · View notes

minhosimthings · 11 months ago

Text

Girl Dad!Skz headcannons

Pairings: husband!Skz × wife!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mentions of pregnancy, reader wears a dress, mentions of food, teensy swearing

A/N: GUESS WHO HAS BABY FEVER AYY ITS THIS BITCH RIGHT HERE. I am so DONE with watching my fav idols play with babies and not expect me to die. WHERE IS MY CHAN WHO'LL GIVE MR A BABY HUH? anyways enjoy my very drunken headcannons

Bang Christopher Chan

DID I JUST HEAR BEST DAD IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD

This man was born to be a dad istg

He'd be so amazing when you're pregnant, like he'd ask his mom for advice, give you belly rubs if your ask and will willingly lend his entire closet to you.

Would be so supportive through the birth process, is not disgusted or anything because he is him.

"She looks just like you."

Would be just a teensy bit overprotective, just a teensy bit.

"And you will bring her back by 7 yes? Oh and what's your address for unrelated purposes?"

*sends the address to Minho incase he needs to murder anyone*

Would be so comforting when she gets her period

"you know I used to do this to your mother.", While massaging her back.

The baby would grow up multilingual and Chan would be so smug about it

"my daughter is my second producer

Lee Minho/Lee Know

Would have such mixed emotions when you tell him you're pregnant

On the one hand A PERSON MADE UP OF BOTH OF YOU? WOAH

On the other hand OH SHIT A PERSON WHO HAS BOTH OUR GENES

Cooks all your weird ass cravings for you but not before giving you a side eye

"Alright y'all are gonna get a sibling." *Is talking to the cats*

Buys everything cat themed

"baby what if the baby is a dog person?"

Y'all have twins, a boy and a girl (manifesting my twin dad Minho fantasies)

Would dance for them when they're babies and would get elated when they try to copy him

Pouts when their first word is mama

Brags so much about them

"I mean they are MY spawn, obviously they're better at dance than your kid, Susan"

Seo Changbin

GIRL DAD GIRL DAD GIRL DAD

So elated when you tell him you're pregnant

PREGNANT CUDDLES KZKSNSNJ

Would be a 100% on board with lifting your belly to save your back

When you find out it's a girl, he straight on sobs.

"I CAN'T HANDLE ANOTHER PAIR OF ADORABLE YN EYES LOOKING AT ME"

Holds the baby extra carefully in his buff ass arms

She looks like you part 2

Tea parties with her are serious buisness for him

"jagi can't you see im currently discussing with the princess about her magical dragon I'll do the dishes later."

Would probably ask her if she wants to go to the gym with her dad and when she says yes he'd be so happy

"you're better than your mother she can't even lift her ass up and go to the gym"

Hwang Hyunjin

When I say this man would paint you a portrait when you tell him you're pregnant-

HE'LL PAINT YOU A FUCKING PORTRAIT

So sweet with you all throughout but also a nervous wreck

Much like me

Would love to paint your belly if you allow him to

Would try your weird cravings with you

And actually like them

Let's not pretend like Hyun doesn't do the pregnant woman pose everyday

Cries so hard when your baby is born

He doesn't mind the gender or anything, but when he found out it's a girl-

"GUYS ITS A MINI Y/N"

She looks like you part 3

Such a clumsy mess when it comes to taking care of her

ART CLASSES ART CLASSES ART CLASSES

"Darling, we painted this for you."

Han Jisung

Immediately freezes when you tell him

Jisung.exe has stopped working

"wait so the protection didn't.... Protect?"

Now Y/N.exe has stopped working trying to figure out whether you actually used protection or not

Talks to your belly all day

Treats the baby like a gossip partner

"girl you won't believe what Hyunjin did today."

"what did he do?"

"yn shush I'm talking to our baby girl."

Is your personal high school cheerleader during the birth

"jagi you are slaying right now you can do this."

Cries when baby is born part 3

Calls her a co-producer part 2

Spoils her shitless

She has him wrapped around her finger, much like her mother :)

Making playlists with her is his love language

Lee Felix Yongbok

Did I just hear breeding kink

Cries when you tell him

Bakes so many brownies when you tell him like one time that you're craving his brownies

Makes your weird cravings part 3

Idk what it is with me and DanceRacha making all your weird cravings

Runs you baths, with bath salts, bath bombs, scented candles and massages your aching muscles I WILL DIE RIGHT NOW

Is the best during the birth, holds your hand allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you want

Dresses baby up like the fashionista she is

Is so amazed and ecstatic when the baby gets an Aussie accent

"JAGI SHE JUST SAID BREKKIE"

Kim Seungmin

Tsundere daddy meow

Will literally melt like his face will be like 🥺

Buys all the cute stuff on day one

I'm talking cradles, blinkies, toys, bonnets for some reason

"of course she needs a ponyo outfit darling come on"

Tones down his teasing a bit

Still makes fun of your penguin walk tho

And if you cry, he will comfort you and never forgive himself for it

Is kinda disgusted by the birth process but he's a strong soldier

Cries when baby is born part 4

Like Kim Seungmin crying is a real thing chat

Singing lessons are free for her, and she has her dad's angel voice!!

Also inherits her dad's roasting style, and she's the only one who can roast him back hehe

He kinda died inside when she told him he was old (he's never been prouder)

Yang Jeongin/ I.N

Bruh this guy istg

Mixed emotions part 2

"IM TOO YOUNG TO HAVE A CHILD"

Calms down eventually (after a slap on the head)

BELLY RUBS

Spoils the shit out of you because obviously

Asks his mum for advice part 2

Sings to your belly at night when he thinks you're asleep

Secretly hopes baby will have his dimple

He loves kids, so parenting is a natural thing that comes to him

Probably more experienced at holding a baby than you are

Feeds her for the first few days when you're tired

Perfect husband honestly he should marry me

Loves braiding her hair and giving her fashion advice

Mini fashion shows!!!

Dances with her a lot

492 notes · View notes

aceistheplace86 · 2 months ago

Text

Ephemeral

///Good job @nyx-stars and anyone else who cracked the code!

You were waiting patiently at the Greasy Diner, wearing your favorite formal outfit. You had originally come into the diner in awe of the setup, there were fairy lights hung on the ceiling, and a table had a tablecloth with a single red rose and a candle.

You knew Ford had gotten Lazy Susan to keep open the diner for your guy's special date night. But now, as you sit and wait alone, the awe you once felt had faded. Ford was almost an hour late.

“Hiya Hun,” Susan said coming up sadly “I-I have to close up soon”

You didn’t make eye contact with her; you couldn’t bear to see the pitiful look she was surely giving you. “That’s Okay Susan” You blew out the candle and handed her the rose “Thank you for letting me stay.”

She smiled sadly and took the rose, handing you a container “Pie. For you”

You started your drive back to the Shack; you were so angry and confused. Ford knew how important tonight was, he had to have known because it was important to him too. Wasn’t it?

You got to the Shack, walked in, and slammed the door shut, which startled Stan who had gotten himself comfortable in his armchair.

“What are you doing back?” he asked confused then stopped “Wait, I never saw Sixer leave.”

“That’s because he never showed up” you scoffed.

“What?!” He stood up “You know how long it took me to set that stuff up? And what it took to convince Lazy Susan to stay open late” He paused “It didn’t take much convincin’ but still!”

“He didn’t even decorate it?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, causing Stan’s face to fall.

“It was his idea y’know. I was just the one who set it up. He said he wanted to get ready” He explained, “Do you want me to go yell at him or somethin’?”

You shook your head “I got this.” You made your way to the lab and were soon met with Ford, who was hunched over a desk, mumbling to himself.

“Ford.” The sound of your voice seemed to startle him because he whirled around.

“Oh, Hello my darling!” he said cheerily “What are you doing down here?”

“You missed our dinner.” You ignored the flutter in your chest at that nickname.

“I probably didn’t miss much; Stan was talking about ordering pizza” He chuckled turning back to his work

“Our dinner. Ford.” You repeat.

He paused and turned to look at you “Our dinner to celebrate…” He trails off “Oh my love, I am sorry. I was just about to get ready when I realized something. Do you remember my Multiverse Echo Theory? Every event that occurs in Gravity Falls creates a ripple in the fabric of reality, leading to the formation of alternate dimensions.” He recalls excitedly “I believe that if I can find a way to tune into these echoes, I could access knowledge or maybe even resources from other dimensions that could help uncover the mysteries of this town! I have been working on a device that can track and measure these dimensional fluctuations” He paused and glanced back at his notes “However, one could argue about the ethical implications of meddling with the multiverse”

Just like that, you had lost him again to his work. He was no longer paying attention to you. “Ford you missed our dinner” You repeated.

“Yes, I apologize for that dear,” he says not looking at you, but writing down in his journal. “We could reschedule for tomorrow.”

“That is not the point Stanford!” You were tired, having little to no fight left in you anymore. Not for another conversation where you had to beg him to give you even the tiniest bit of attention even for a moment. The only reason you hadn’t given up was because there had been times when it felt like Ford was improving, that you didn’t have to fight for his attention.

He taught you some of his favorite meals to cook. He drove an hour out of town to take you to a bookstore. He wrote you poems. He was there when you woke up in the morning. That was probably your favorite part. Rolling over to be met with his warm body instead of the cold, empty side of the bed. It hurt to know he would rather go straight to the lab in the morning, that was if he had even come to your shared room in the first place.

“I don’t understand,” He says “You want a dinner, I will make plans for us to have dinner tomorrow. But for now, would you like to help me?” he waved over to his notes “Stanley made Dipper go to bed”

“You aren’t listening to me, Stanford!” You cried out “There are other things that can give your life meaning. More important things than… than this!” You said gesturing to the lab.

“What?” Ford replied shortly “Like you?”

You stood frozen. Is that really what he thought about your relationship? About you? “I think you should apologize”

“And I think you should leave” His back was towards you.

“Fine” You whispered, “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore Ford.”

“Like it’s so difficult for you?” He muttered.

“Yes! It breaks my heart to see you this way! You spent your childhood chasing after a place where you could fit in, somewhere where you would find love. You completely ignored your brother who was there for you” You started “And now you are starting to completely ignore me, I thought you would change once we got you back with the portal. I thought you would be different” Before Ford had gotten sucked into the portal, your relationship was a bit rocky, but you chalked it up to the fight he had with his brother, but he only continued to ice you out. It was good for the first few months when he came back, but now he started to isolate himself again.

You had dedicated your life to helping Ford feel like he belonged, and you stuck by Stanley as he tried to bring back his brother. “I gave up everything for you Stanford!”

“I never asked you to”

“You did when you said you loved me”

He stared at you for a long while before he turned away and went back to his desk.

You felt defeated. You looked down at your hand and slipped off the ring. “Goodbye Stanford” You set the ring on top of his journal and walked out. You didn’t even bother packing a bag, you just got in your car and drove off.

Pt 2. Here

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines x you #ford pines x reader #dating ford pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls stanley #mabel pines #dipper pines #gravity falls stanford #journal 3 #ford pines #stan pines

121 notes · View notes

paracosmic-murdock · 4 months ago

Text

i still got love for you

part four: i hope for you

pairing: francesca bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: leaving for bath out of the sudden was the hardest thing you had had to do, not particularly because you had left your parents and home behind, but because your friendship with francesca bridgerton was ripped away from you a sudden summer morning.

five years later, francesca arrived in bath for the season to practice pianoforte with her aunt winnie, and finally, you see her again after thinking you had forever lost her. how much you wanted for your love to live and beat still, how much you wanted for francesca to say so.

warnings/tags: sapphic francesca bridgerton, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, am i gay quiz but make it nineteenth century somehow, smut, minors dni, inspired by an emily dickinson intimate letter to susan hunington dickinson, song: seven (taylor swift)

word count: 3.7K

❁ part one | part two | part three | part five | part six

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

“Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday, and be my own again, and kiss me as you used to? I hope for you so much, and feel so eager for you, feel that I cannot wait, feel that now I must have you — that the expectation once more to see your face again makes me feel hot and feverish, and my heart beats so fast.” (Excerpt from Open me carefully: Emily Dickinson's intimate letters to Susan Hunington Dickinson by Emily Dickinson)

“That is your favorite breakfast.”

You stopped playing with your fork and looked at him. “I am not hungry.”

He ate the last bite of his dish. “Oh, and why would that be? The last time you ate was for lunch yesterday and it was almost nothing.”

“I do not know. Perhaps I am tragically ill.”

“Clearly,” He scoffed sarcastically. “You miss her.”

“I don't miss anybody, Charles. I just feel unwell.” you stated.

“You, Sister, are a terrible liar.”

“And you, Brother, are delusional.”

He shook his head and stood up, putting the napkin you had embroidered on the table before storming off without any explanation.

You rolled your eyes, drinking your berry tea.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you were pensive because you missed Francesca.

You haven't seen her since dinner a couple of weeks ago, and you couldn't help but feel bad about it.

Three days after that evening, you went to her aunt's home but were told she was not there. You left a message for her: she was invited to join you for tea the next day or whenever she wanted to, for you would be at your home every day.

You canceled quite some plans just in case she went, but she never did. And you were devastated.

It was a lovely evening, and you thought everything went really well. Perhaps it was because you had called her darling. You felt it was proper at the moment, but now, not anymore. Now, in your mind, you have made her feel uncomfortable and lost her forever.

Charles’ mind was known for hardly being made up.

Dilemma was almost his second name, and it was no secret. Always a dilemma, and now wasn't the exception.

He hates to see you upset and hurting. You are his sister, and ever since you were born, he vowed to love you and protect you. And after your parents sent you away, it was his biggest purpose.

Right now, he had no choice but to tell Francesca Bridgerton, in front of him, the reason he was there.

Charles cleared his throat. “I suppose you have an idea as to why I am here.”

“Charles…”

“Frannie, did she do something wrong?”

“No, I just…” She sighed. “I have not been feeling very well lately, that is all.”

“Are you sure?” he questioned, not quite believing her.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“My sister has been punishing herself for your absence, and… it breaks me to see her like this,” he mentioned. Francesca felt her heart break at the thought of you hurting. “Why don't you come for lunch at our home? I shall have the cooks do something you like.”

“Uh, we were invited for lunch at the Maguire's home, I am sorry…” she lied.

Charles sighed. “When can we receive you, then?”

“I do not know.” she said, looking down to her hands.

He stood up. “I really hope you know she is hurting because of your absence. She did those five years, and she has these past weeks. She loves you, and I know you love her too. And no, not in a friendly manner.”

And, just like that, he left.

Francesca sighed and watched him leave, not able to decide what to do. To stop him. To ask him. To do anything.

In truth, the reason Francesca has not visited you in weeks is because she was scared of loving you. Not for being you, but for being a woman.

Her aunt Winnie had asked her if Lord Chadwick was courting her, but she didn't quite know what to say. She just said she did not know, but her aunt was convinced he was.

Understandably so, because no man would just invite a young lady to his home so many times if he didn't have any intention to court her. What she didn't know was that the one interested in her was you. Another lady.

After the implications regarding your brother, Francesca's aunt remarked how important it was for her to marry a gentleman, a good man, wealthy, and with title. The only one Francesca wanted was you.

You, you, you… No one else.

It pained her to know that her actions were affecting you, especially because the last thing she ever wanted was to make you feel bad. She loved you, and she knew that when you love somebody, you want that person to be happy.

But you could never feel fine or happy without Francesca. You couldn't deny that. Nor would she, especially now that you have reunited. And now that she knew that you loved her, too.

In all honesty, you calling her darling was unexpected and spooked her more than she was willing to admit. Maybe because it was a term of endearment and no one had used it on her before, or maybe because you used it, confirming she was your darling. Yours. Oh, how much Francesca longed to be yours.

So she thought about you during the lunch at Chadwick House she was invited to attend but wasn't intending to, during the afternoon she would've spent playing pianoforte instead, and during the evening she was supposed to get ready to sleep but didn't. Her aunt went to sleep, and she did quite the opposite, sneaking to the backyard to get you flowers, and leaving her home for the purpose of finding you.

Francesca did not particularly come up with a plan, so when she saw herself in front of the entrance to Chadwick House without a way to get in, she got worried. However, she didn't have to worry for much longer because Charles opened the door some minutes later.

“Charles!” She flinched and hid her hands behind her back as he suddenly appeared in front of her with a confused frown.

“Francesca?” He grinned. “What are you doing here?”

Francesca shook her head. “I- uh… I came to- nothing! I was just- I am going back.”

“Frannie, with all due respect,” Charles sighed, grabbing her forearm to stop her from leaving. “Shut up. My sister is in her chambers. Third floor, second door to the left.”

“Sorry,” She pouted. “I guess-”

“Lord save me! You two are driving me mad!” he exclaimed as he covered his face with his hands. “Get in there, Francesca, and don't you dare leave before resolving whatever it is that you two have going.”

With that, he left her there and got on the awaiting carriage she had failed to notice before.

Francesca sighed, walking inside the house and following your brother's directions until she reached your door.

She knocked, but received no answer, so she opened the door to find your room empty. Francesca guessed that, perhaps, you had gone out for a walk, so she went downstairs and ended up looking at you from afar.

You were sitting in the swing and looking at the night sky in utter silence, and she almost didn't dare to interrupt you. She, however, had a purpose for her visit and wouldn't let the courage she had gathered go to waste.

Francesca sat silently in the swing beside yours without saying a word.

“Charles, I told you to let me be.” you groaned, looking opposite from 'his' face.

She cleared her throat. “This is not Charles.”

You turned around abruptly to face her.

Dear God.

“Francesca-” you whispered, almost not believing it. “Are you truly here?”

“Yes, I am here,” She smiled, showing you the tulip of an unknown color in the dark. “But, firstly, this is for you.”

You smiled weakly.

At the silence, she spoke. “I, uh- I had to see you.”

“What for?”

“To apologize,” she replied and sighed, getting ready for the speech she had prepared the whole afternoon. “For not coming back after dinner. I… I was scared because you called me darling, and it made me realize that I might not be… alone in these feelings I find impossible to name. It felt real out of the sudden, and I was not prepared for it. I thought about them all those days and reached to a conclusion I was dreading: that I love you. Not like a girl who is fond of her childhood best friend or like a girl who has such dear affection for a sister, no; I love you like one loves the person that is to be their spouse, their love match. I know well enough that this is not something a woman is supposed to feel for another woman, but I do, and I have reasons to believe you do as well. Please, tell me I am not alone in this feeling, for I believe that love could never be as profound as mine for you were it not reciprocated.”

You grabbed the rope of her swing and pulled her close to you. “I love you, my darling. I love you so much that I fear the word love is not enough to grasp all that I feel for you. It is pathetic, the way your proximity makes my whole being combust in yearning; it is alluring, the way your eyes can heal all that chaos when they look into mine. Having you here with me, under the full moon and in a field of violets, is the utmost proof of how sacred this love is. How sacred we must treat it. Being yours is the ultimate purpose of my existence, and I would be beyond grateful to you if you allowed me to honor it by loving you devotedly and cherishing you adoringly.”

Francesca exhaled and hesitated for a single, intrusive second. She, right then and there, kissed your lips softly. There was doubt and insecurity, but you managed to wash it out by kissing her back with a passion she couldn't have even dreamt of.

“Would you like to stay for the night? It is far too late for you to return home by yourself and we do not have another carriage available. I fear Charles will not return until tomorrow.” you proposed, standing up and offering her your hand to do so, too.

Francesca nodded, now standing as well, and staring at your lips.

You smirked, closing the distance promptly.

You did not know how to kiss, but the two of you would certainly learn that night.

Of course there was an extra room, but there was no need for that. Despite the last sleepover being five years ago, there was still this feeling of comfort and intimacy shared between you and her.

“I know that sharing a bed has never been an issue for us,” you began. “But, if you wish, I could have the help bring another bed for you.”

“No!” she exclaimed, regretting the haste and reluctance of her answer. “I mean, no. It is not necessary, for your bed is big enough for the both of us.”

You nodded with a smile. “Would you like for me to get a maid to help you get ready to sleep? I might as well call-”

“No, There should be no need. We could help each other, is that not right?” she answered shyly. You were surprised to hear that, but thought nothing of it, ignoring the warmth taking over your body at the mere idea. “I- well, I- I did not mean it like… if you… if you want to. I do not have a problem. If you do, it is alright if you-”

“Yes, it is alright.” you agreed, approaching her and pointing to the bed with your head. “I had a maid bring a sleeping chemise for you… should you like for me to-?”

She nodded, undoing her coiffure before you got to her. “Yes, I should like for you to help me now.”

Francesca didn't know what was going on in herself. Her words seemed to come out before she could process them and her intentions were rather unclear even to herself.

Now, she was in front of you. Your hesitant hands trembled lightly as you started taking her dress off. Francesca let out a soft gasp when your fingers grazed her skin, noticing your closeness as she leaned closer to you, not creating contact just yet but desiring so, so very anxiously. You started undoing her corset slowly, trying to take in every second of proximity existent between you, the fervid hunger invading the moment.

Francesca let out a shaky breath, leaning toward you and, this time, she was actually resting her weight on you timidly. She whispered your name, almost silently enough for you to not hear.

But you always heard her.

Her head was resting on your shoulder, touching your cheek with her cheekbones. “I love you.”

You kissed her cheek gently and then went to her neck. You left slight bites on her skin and moaned as she pressed herself onto you slightly more.

“I love you, too,” you reminded her, and it felt as if it was the very first time you told her so. “I will never not.”

You kissed her shoulders and put your hands on her hips.

“I think we are…” you whimpered as she intertwined your hands with hers. “We are doing something we most likely should not.”

She exhaled with difficulty. “What would that be?”

“I saw them,” you began. “Anne and Petunia, my maids, they- I saw them doing this.”

“This?”

“Making love.”

Your answer left her in a place between confusion and oblivious understanding. She knew, but also she did not.

“What does it mean?”

“I went for a late night walk in the backyard and heard some noises,” you told her. “Chadwick House is not as big as the Devereaux Manor, so we do not need as much help, nor do we have enough room for more. Some of the help that stays at the house has to share a room, so my two lady maids do. I know where their room is, so, upon hearing the sounds, I peeked through the window in case something had happened. And I saw them… As soon as my shock subsided, I ran back to my chambers, but not without seeing them like we are now. They were kissing and touching each other, nude.”

Francesca frowned. “How do you know what it is called?”

“A few days later, I asked Charles about it, but I never said I had seen them. I told him I had heard it somewhere,” you answered. “He panicked and told me not to speak of such things ever again. Then, he said those are things men and women do after they marry, but that some men do it without marrying and that it was normal, but respectable ladies like me could not do so under any circumstance… So, naturally, I ended up asking Anna about it and blaming it on Charles. She said that it is called making love and that people do it to consummate their marriage. I told her that Charles said some men do, but that ladies like me cannot, so she explained to me that it is said that women lose their worth after doing that and must be valuable for deserving a marriage. Also, we could get pregnant when doing it with a man, but men do not have to worry about themselves being with child; I, then, asked if men did it with men or women with women, and she said it was possible but not well seen at all, so I should not do it unless I love and trust the woman, but that I must be careful and not tell a soul about it because it was a display of love, goodness, and intimacy that deserves to be cherished and not broken by society's discrimination. Anne also said that it is supposed to feel quite pleasurable. That is how I know.”

She nodded, taking a few seconds to think about it and analyze the situation.

“Can we… do that?” Francesca asked, some boldness whose origin she unfortunately ignored.

“Oh,” Your eyes met hers as she turned around. “Well, if you want to… I mean, I want to, but only if you do as well, uh… Do you want to?”

“Yes, I want to make love with you.” She smiled confidently.

“Are you sure?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Francesca assured you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Can I take off your gown?”

A soft exhale left your lips at the thought. “You can take all of me, my darling.”

Francesca smiled a little, pressing her forehead to yours. Your noses brushed each other's before you kissed.

And, when it happened, you could only describe it as mystical. With her, everything felt like magic.

You thought, more often than not, that you weren't built for this world. You weren't built for this society because you wanted nothing but her and to be able to dance with her at balls, to just say ‘this is my wife’ to everyone you met, to love her freely.

You weren't built for a society that kept you away from her.

You wanted to be with her like this always, to feel the tip of her fingers brush your skin and cause goosebumps, to stand naked before her and her before you, just like you were now.

“What are we supposed to do now?” she asked.

You shrugged. “Shall we find out?”

She chuckled nervously, feeling like the fire lighting up the room was actually inside of her. Francesca nodded, giving you the needed cue to end the distance between you two and kiss her.

It was hesitant at first. You didn't know what to do with your hands, so you just put her hair behind her ear, deepened the kiss, and then cupped her face. Meanwhile, Francesca freed your hair and rested her hands on your shoulders, not knowing what to do either.

She ended the kiss, looking at you with a glint of need in her shy hazel eyes. She sighed, all her fears leaving her body with that exhale. Her hands went to the back of your neck to pull you close and began kissing there, imitating what you were doing when you helped her undress.

You held her by her waist and her hands traveled your shoulders and her fingers drew burning, irregular shapes on your back. “This feels good.”

“It does.” She smiled against your skin.

In an attempt to get closer, you put your leg between hers and pulled her until your skin was on hers. Which also meant that you were close enough for your thigh to touch her core.

The moan she let out was almost delirious and the way her hips bucked in response caused her thigh to stumble upon you.

Your eyes met, both silently agreeing that what you just did felt, oh, so good.

Francesca swallowed hard and looked down as she bucked her hips to provoke the same feeling to both of you.

“God,” you moaned, holding her tightly against you and moving like she moved. “My bed.”

When you pulled apart to go to the bed, a strange emptiness took over you. It was not only emotional, as if missing each other a bit; it was physical, too. A warm and wet something was left on your thighs as a result of your pleasure, which came as a surprise because neither of you had any idea what any of what you were doing was, but you did know how good it felt.

Once you were finally sitting on your bed, you looked at each other as if asking for permission, but then you realized how absurd it was to ask, to wait, to hesitate, so you kissed, this time hungrily and intensely. The way you clumsily returned to your previous position gave away how much you needed each other.

You were so clumsy and careless, that this time it wasn't your thighs but your cores that met, and you cried out at how terribly delicious that contact felt.

“This… feels so…” Francesca began, not able to come up with the words that could describe how she was feeling, so she just kept moving with you and moaning your name loudly.

“Good?” you panted.

“Better than- than good,” she replied, her breath labored. “Great.”

Hearing her be vocal about this was unexpected to say the least. However, you found it exciting and hot. “How do you feel, Fran?” you encouraged her to speak, craving to hear her say things about this very wonderful moment.

“Great,” she replied, a strange pressure building inside her very being. “This- I like… this.”

You kissed her eagerly, harshly, to then ask. “Do you?”

“Yes…” She nodded, kissing you again as your hands traveled to her hips and then used the contact to guide her to be faster and pull her close enough to apply more pressure.

Francesca broke the kiss, her head falling back and giving you access to her neck. You sucked her skin, beginning to notice how she had some burning red spots on the places your mouth has been to before.

A desperate moan left your lips when a sensation started to form deep inside you, and she was feeling it, too. You could only describe it as if you were running from a great distance to a cliff, and everything you were doing in the earthly world made the inside you run faster and faster until you reached the edge. And there, Francesca was waiting for you to see how you slowed down for a second, only so she could hold your hand and jump with you.

In both the earthly and imaginary world, you moaned her name loudly as you fell off the edge of the cliff, or as you came with her.

She moaned and gasped, and hid her head against your neck to muffle the sounds she was making.

“Do not hold back,” you told her, feeling your orgasm last so very long. “I wish to hear you, please.”

Francesca obeyed you, pressing her forehead to yours and moaning your name against your lips.

It was so innocent, yet so sensual. It felt right, but, oh, so immoral. And carnal. And fascinating. Scandalous, beautiful, mystical, sinful.

You didn't stop until it was too much. Her embrace didn't end, and she wanted anything but.

“I love you.” you whispered, guiding her to lie on the bed with you.

She smiled. “I love you, too.”

“I am so happy that you still had love for me.” You kissed her softly.

“I will always have love for you.” Francesca replied.

You stared at each other in silence. Her hand was on your cheek, caressing it, and yours drew delicate patterns on the soft skin of her hips.

“Can we do this again?” Francesca asked.

You smiled. “Can we?”

“I should like that.”

“Me as well.”

taglist: @swiftholic-13 @kenzieisgone @urmultifandomfan

#francesca bridgerton #francesca bridgerton x reader #francesca bridgerton x fem!reader #francesca bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine

126 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.

Setsuko Hara (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, The Idiot)— "'The only time I saw Susan Sontag cry,' a writer once told me, his voice hushed, 'was at a screening of a Setsuko film.' What Setsuko had wasn’t glamour—she was just too sensible for that—it was glow, one that ebbed away and left you concerned, involved. You got the sense that this glow, like that of dawn, couldn’t be bought. But her smiles were human and held minute-long acts, ones with important intermissions. When she looked away, she absented herself; you felt that she’d dimmed a fire and clapped a lid on something about to spill. Over the last decade, whenever anyone brought up her lips—'Setsuko’s eternal smile,' critics said, that day we learned that she’d died—I thought instead of the thing she made us feel when she let it fall." - Moeko Fujii

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Elizabeth Taylor:

I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.

Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community

Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.

A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.

She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!

just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time

THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.

Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood

Setsuko Hara:

One of the best Japanese actresses of all time; a symbol of the golden era of Japanese cinema of the 1950s After seeing a Setsuko Hara film, the novelist Shūsaku Endō wrote: "We would sigh or let out a great breath from the depths of our hearts, for what we felt was precisely this: Can it be possible that there is such a woman in this world?"

One of the greatest Japanese actresses of all time!! Best known for acting in many of Yasujiro Ozu's films of the 40s and 50s. Also she has a stunning smile and beautiful charm!

Linked gifset

Linked gifset 2

She's considered by some to be the greatest Japanese actress of all time! In Kurosawa's The Idiot she haunts the screen, and TOTALLY steals the show from Mifune every time she appears.

"No other actor has ever mastered the art of the smile to the same extent as Setsuko Hara (1920–2015), a celebrated star and highly regarded idol who was one of the outstanding actors of 40s and 50s Japanese cinema. Her radiant smile floods whole scenes and at times cautiously undermines the expectations made of her in coy, ironic fashion. Yet her smile's impressive range also encompasses its darker shades: Hara's delicate, dignified, melancholy smile with which she responds to disappointments, papers over the emotions churning under the surface, and flanks life's sobering realizations. Her smiles don't just function as a condensed version of her ever-precise, expressive, yet understated acting ability, they also allow the very essence of the films they appear in to shine through for a brief moment, often studies of the everyday, post-war dramas which revolve around the break-up of family structures or the failure of marriages. Her performances tread a fine line between social expectation and personal desire in post-war Japan, as Hara attempts to lay claim to the autonomy of the female characters she plays – frequently with a smile." [link]

Leading lady of classic Japanese cinema with a million dollar smile

Maybe the most iconic Japanese actress ever? She rose to fame making films with Yasujiro Ozu, becoming one of the most well-known and beloved actresses in Japan, working from the 30s through the 60s in over 100 hundred. She is still considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses ever, and in my opinion, just one of the greatest actresses of all time. And she was HOT! Satoshi Kon's film Millennium Actress was largely based on her life and her career.

#setsuko hara #elizabeth taylor #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5

239 notes · View notes

a-998h · 2 months ago

Text

Return to Gravity Falls

@angelqueen27 & @eisheth

Contains: Implied Platonic yandere

"Wake, Starlight," a familiar voice tells me.

Opening my eyes, I'm met with the all too familiar set of bright blue eyes. My older brother, Mason, who has the stage name Dipper. I sit up in bed, yawning and rubbing my eyes of all sleepiness. Smelling pancakes, I figured my older sister, Mabel, was making her special strawberry chocolate chip pancakes. Those two were part of a magic act called, the Mystery Twins. We'd been traveling across the country for weeks and I was always excited to explore where we ended up this time.

"Morning big bro," I tell him.

I know he has a new bolo tie, but he has a million so I wouldn't now what every single one he owns looks like. He gives me a head pat and tells me to get dressed as he leaves the room and closes the door.

I throw on a blue shirt and black shorts, paired with my sneakers. I spend extra time brushing my hair, knowing Mabel would do it herself if she didn't think it was good enough. After brushing my teeth, I join my siblings at the table. Mabel, who's normally blank blue headband had a teal gem decoration on it, handed me a plate with a smily face pancake and apple slices.

"Morning little Starlight," she calls me.

I smile despite my annoyance. I have a name, Reader, but my siblings have never used it. It was always, Starlight this and Starlight that for as long as I can remember. I wanted to let go of the dumb nicknames, but last time I tried I started feeling guilty. Dipper and Mabel would say that they only wanted to have a bond with me, so I let them keep calling me that name. When their magic act took off, the dragged me along with them.

I look down at the smiling pancake, I loved that stupid whipped cream smile when I like 6, but Mabel keeps putting it on my pancakes. I don't really mind, it's whipped cream after all. I finish the pancake, and go to leave the table, but without even looking up from his plate, Dipper says.

"Eat all your apple slices, you need to be healthy,"

That pancake was huge, and I was feeling full. Trying to argue that point was useless as Dipper said that I could only be full if I finished those stupid apple slices. It bothers me that they can't see that I'm not a little kid anymore, plus I'm only three years younger than them. Giving in, I eat the apple slices and let Mabel take my plate and silverware. Looking out the window, I recognize some familiar scenery.

"We're back home?" I ask my siblings. They nod and smile.

We were away from home for so long, my heart might burst from the excitement of returning. Before I can leave the table to explore my hometown, Mabel stops me.

"We have something for you, Starlight," Mabel says as Dipper walks over.

With a dramatic flurrish, Dipper pulls out a white box with a blue ribbon bow on it. Opening it reveals a sliver bracelet, a dark teal stone embedded in the center surrounded by my star sign.

"Where and when did you get this?" I ask.

They both chuckle and Mabel tells me it was bought after one of their New England shows. I take their word, and put it on. It fits perfectly and looks beautiful. I hug them both before we heard our Great Uncle/ Manager Stan say Dipper and Mabel have to do a rehearsal for a show happening in about two weeks time. I get two kisses on the cheek as the pair leave. Once that car is outta view, I run out the house's front door.

Nostalgia hits like a freight train as I wander the streets of the town I knew and loved. Greasy's dinner was where it always stood, with Speedy Susan being a one woman crew. Gravity Falls may look like a hick town in middle of nowhere Oregon, which is true, but I see it as a wonderful place full of woods to explore. As I walk around, I feel something solid run into me as I fall backwards.

"I'm so, so, so, so sorry!" A high pitched voice says.

Looking as I stand, I see a girl with a color hippie like outfit, and a white haired boy in a sweatshirt, it's summer. The girl keeps apologizing and I let her know I'm ok. She sticks out her hand.

"Nice to meet you, My name is Pacifica Southeast, but please call me Pacifica," she tells me.

I tell her my name. She smiles and pushes the nervous sweatshirt boy closer. He looks like he really doesn't want to talk to anyone, not because he's better, but it's mor elike, he'll go the way of the narwhal if he even things of talking to strangers. He slowly sticks out his hand for a handshake. I return the handshake and tell him my name.

"M-My name is Gideon Pines," he tells me.

I nod and apologize for being in their way. Pacifica says her and he brother had plans to explore the nearby woods, then asked what I was doing. I explain my exporting and Pacifica says we should do it together. Normally, Dipper and Mabel would pull me away, Dipper making me wash my hand because he thinks that I'll get "poor people germs" and Mabel would say I need to spend more time with family. But, they aren't here.

"Sure, sounds fun" I tell my new best friends.

The three of us enjoy our wilderness expedition, spotting animals and plants of varying kinds. It was nice to have friends, Dipper and Mabel just scare them off, saying I only need my big brother and sister. I catch my reflection in a small creek, I have dirt stains on my hands, face, and shirt with messy hair. It's been so long since I've looked like this, ever since Dipper and Mabel had become the Mystery Twins, they would always keep me under their ever present eyes.

The laughter dies down as the sun starts to sink below the trees, casting the town and forest in a comfortable orange glow. Pacifica hands me a folded piece of paper, urging me to open it. When I do, I'm greeted with an address, but it's not one I know.

"It's for a place called the Mystery Shack, it's where me and Gideon live so you can hang out whenever you want!" She cheerfully tells me.

Stuffing the paper back in my pocket, I have memories of Dipper and Mabel insulting the Mystery Shack and telling I have no reason to go to "that dirty tourist trap". Now, I have friends and a reason to visit, I start making my way to home, trying to hide the evidence of my wilderness fun. Opening the door, I'm greeted with the stern looks of Dipper and Mabel.

"Do you have any idea how worried we were?" Mabel asks in a somewhat emotional manner.

I try my best to answer, but it doesn't help. Dipper scolds me as Mabel is setting up a make shift spy in our living room, going on and on about how I was "darted by hooligans". Dipper does nothing to calm her, only fueling the fire. Dipper calmly tells me that I shouldn't be around strangers as they could hurt me. Honestly, I think the most dangerous thing in this town are the woodpeckers. Dipper takes the paper as Mabel scolds me.

Well, despite being grounded, I'm still happy that we're back in Gravity Falls. Nostalgia softened the blow of grounding. Looks like I'll have to rob Dipper's room for that address. I wonder what it would be like to have real friends, not overprotective siblings.

#reverse falls fandom #reverse falls x reader #reverse falls au #reverse falls #reverse pines #gideon pines #pacifica southeast #platonic fanfic #platonic yandere #mabel gleeful #mason gleeful #gn reader #gender neutral reader #Starlight!Reader #gravity falls

79 notes · View notes

flatassthrowaway · 1 month ago

Text

Passionate and Deeply

~Chapter One~

Y'all might actually hate me for this chapter, but you can let me know what you think.

Just a gentle reminder that this story will eventually become 18+. MDNI please.

If you didn't read the prologue, it's here. Enjoy!

A few days passed, and it was now the end of February. I haven’t seen Ford for a whole week since we met. According to Susan, I just missed him the other day.

I wonder… was he looking for me?

No, it couldn’t be. No one sought after me.

He’s probably busy anyway with his paranormal investigations. He doesn’t have time to think about lil ol’ me.

Nevertheless, he did give me his address and said to stop by whenever I wanted to talk about the paranormal.

I was finished with my work for the day, and we only had like one more hour of sunlight before it was total darkness, so I decided to go visit him. I mean, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.

I got all bundled up before heading out the door. As I locked the door, I noted that the icicles around my home appeared to be… moving?

I shook my head and looked at the icicles again, but they were completely still.

Sheesh, I think I’ve been working too long. Now I think the icicles are moving.

Maybe getting out of the house will do me some good.

Thankfully, his home wasn’t too far from mine. But… I did start seeing weird signs shaped as arrows that said, “To the Mystery Shack,” and “Amazing!” as well as “Enter!”

Where did he live, exactly? And why were there so many bizarre signs leading to his home?

By the time I got there, there was a young man sitting on the porch of the home, talking with…

Ford!

He was fully bundled up with a maroon jacket lined with faux fur, and dark jeans with dark brown winter boots.

“There you are, Ford!” I called him, rushing over.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Uh… what? Do I know you, kid?” He asked in a raspy voice.

Oh no! I wonder if he caught a cold? Although, it sounds like he’d been smoking for a while to have that kind of voice. I didn’t notice it during our time at the diner.

“Come on, Ford! It’s me!” I told him my name again. “Don’t tell me you forgot me already!”

“Kid, listen! I told you I don’t know who you are! Now leave us alone and get outta here!” He said in an even rougher tone, and he turned his back to me.

I sighed sadly. I guess he really doesn’t remember…

“Wait a sec, girl dude! Mr. Pines, why are you being so mean to the nice lady? She’s just looking for your brother,” the man on the porch spoke. He wore a dark green jacket, grey sweatpants and black winter boots.

“What…? Brother?” I asked. This man looked identical to Ford!

Twins…?

The man sighed and turned around. “I’m not Ford. My brainiac brother is inside. I’m Stanley Pines, but you can call me Stan,” he introduced.

“And I’m Soos, Mr. Mystery himself! I, along with my wife and grandma, live here with Mr. Pines and his twin brother,” Soos introduced.

I smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Soos… and Stan.”

“You too, girl dude!”

The door then opened, revealing a young woman who appeared to be the same age as me, but she was heavily pregnant. She wore a long sleeved lavender dress that fell to her feet, and white fluffy slippers. She had light brown wavy hair that was pulled up in a ponytail, hazelnut brown eyes, and tan skin.

“Soos? Mr. Pines? Dinner’s ready!” She told them.

“Finally! Thanks Mel,” Stan said, leaving the three of us.

Well at least I found people in my age range. The woman, who I assume is Mel, turned to me. “Oh, hello! Soos, who’s this?”

Soos introduced me to her. “And this is Melody Ramirez, my lovely wife, and soon-to-be mother of my child,” he said.

I smiled. I could feel the love radiating from his words about his wife. He truly loves her.

“Nice to meet you, Melody,” I said.

“You as well,” she said. “Hey! Why don’t you come in for dinner? We’re having meatloaf tonight!”

“Oh… I wouldn’t want to impose…” I trailed off.

“Hey, don’t worry about Mr. Pines,” Soos said my name. “He’s a little rough at first, but he’s one of a kind. Plus, his twin brother is here, which is who you really wanted to see, right?”

I nodded. “Yes…”

“So come in! I’d hate for you to be left out in the cold,” Melody told me.

I smiled and nodded as Soos went in, and I went in after him, instantly feeling much warmer. I took my shoes off, and once I finished, Melody and Soos gave me a strange look.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This isn’t a shoe free home. You can keep your shoes on,” Melody told me as Soos went to the table.

I shrugged. “Mine is. I suppose old habits die hard.”

“As long as you’re comfortable. Come on, let’s get you some food,” she said, guiding me to the dining table.

An elderly woman, who I assume is Soos’ grandmother, happily dished out food, and I saw Stan and Ford side by side, seemingly bickering. Soos was at the head of the table and started eating the food in front of him.

There was meatloaf, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, kale, broccoli and asparagus. There was a large pitcher in the middle that was steaming.

This truly looks like a feast.

As I approached the table with Melody, I heard what the bickering between Ford and his brother was about.

“But you told me I ought to make some more friends! I finally made another one and you’re irate over it?!” Ford said incredulously.

“Poindexter, I said find a friend, not someone you can fuck around with,” Stan said.

Ugh, he’s one of those guys.

“Ay! Language!” The grandmother scolded Stan. “Not in front of mi bisnieto!”

“Sorry toots,” he told her before turning to Ford. “But I’m serious, Poindexter. If-“

“Um, Mr. Pines-“

Stan cut Soos off. “Not now, Soos! I’m tryin’ to-“

Soos cut Stan off. “But Mr. Pines, she’s right here!” Soos cried.

Both Ford and Stan looked at Melody and myself, and went wide eyed.

“Well… shit,” Stan said.

“Stanley Pines!” Abuelita scolded him.

“Sorry! Sweet Moses…”

Melody turned to me and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about this. It’s normally not this noisy. Or rude,” she told me apologetically.

I shook my head. “No harm done,” I told her.

Melody sat down next to her husband, and Abuelita begrudgingly took a seat next to Stan. Seeing four empty seats, I took the one next to Melody. I wonder why there’s so many?

Actually, Ford did say his niece and nephew visited, so maybe it was for them.

Melody and I dished out for ourselves, and we began eating, along with the rest of the family.

“I just wanted to thank you for inviting me into your home,” I told them.

“Anytime, cariño. It’s nice to see that my granddaughter-in-law has a friend who she can share things with,” Abuelita told me.

Aww, she’s so kind. She reminds me of my own grandmother. I miss her…

“Actually Abuelita, she’s a friend of Ford,” Melody corrected her. “Although I wouldn’t mind being friends.”

“It would be nice to have a girlfriend here, I agree,” I told her.

“Oh? Wow, you must really like her to invite her here Mr. Stanford. Never invite anyone to our home, except that hillbilly man,” Abuelita remarked as she continued eating.

Ford doesn’t appear to trust people. I guess that’s one thing we have in common.

Except that hillbilly man she spoke of. I wonder who he is.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Why, yes. I believe that she would make a great co- I mean female friend,” he replied.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful!”

“So,” Soos said my name in between bites of his food. “What brings you to our wonderful town?”

I smiled. “I’m here for work,” I told him.

“Yeah, what kinda work you do?” Stan asked.

“Stanley, it’s ’what kind of work do you do?’” Ford corrected him.

“Poindexter I swear if you start with that grammar shi-“ Stan cut himself off when he noticed Abuelita was glaring at him. “I mean that grammar thing, we’re gonna have some problems!”

Ford rolled his eyes as I told everyone what I did for work.

“Oh, so you can travel and still maintain the same kind of work? That’s cool!” Melody said.

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Listen, let me cut to the chase,” Stan told me. “How long ago did you meet my brother?”

“About a week ago,” I said.

Stan turned to his brother. “Normally I’d be happy for you, Sixer, but I don’t like this,” he told his brother.

“Stanley, why is-“

I drowned out their bickering and quickly finished my food. I thanked Melody, Soos and Abuelita for having me, and Melody went to see me off.

“I’m sorry about that again. You’re always welcome back here… with or without those two.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, Melody. I hope to speak with you further at a later time.”

“Me too. I hope this doesn’t taint your experience of Gravity Falls. It’s a wonderful town, I promise,” she told me as I donned my winter boots again.

“Thank you, Melody. Have a good night. Rest well,” I told her.

“Thanks! See you around,” Melody told me as she waved.

I waved back as I stepped outside, and began trekking home. The wind was cold and bit at the exposing skin on my face.

I knew I should have brought a face cover.

“Wait!” I heard a familiar voice call my name.

I turned around to see Ford running up to me. He caught up to me and gave me an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry for what my brother said about you. He should have never said those demeaning words to describe you,” he told me.

I shook my head. “It was coming from a place of concern, so I understand,” I told him as we kept walking to my home. “I mean… I’d be a little surprised if he was on board with our budding friendship. Honestly… I’m surprised I’m not too young for you.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Why would that be a problem?” Ford asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. You hear stories about young people like me taking advantage of older people? I think that’s what your brother is afraid of…”

“I’m sure you’re very smart dear, but I am rather intelligent. I would know if you were trying to take advantage of me,” Ford told me.

I gave him a half smile. “That’s the thing, Ford,” I told him. “You can be as smart as Einstein, Newton and Tesla combined, but emotions can cloud your judgement no matter how smart or how dull you are. Maybe… maybe your brother is right. Maybe we shouldn’t pursue this friendship…”

We arrived at my house, and he turned to me. “Is that what you want?” Stanford asked. “Please, look me in the eye and tell me that this is what you want.”

I looked at him, and… I can’t tell him that.

Maybe it’s because I’ve gone without having any close friends for so long, but… I really, really don’t want our budding friendship to end. It’s been so long since I had a friendship that I actually felt good about.

“I-“ I cut myself off.

The chime of the icicles interrupted me. I looked away from him as I saw the icicles come to life. And… I wasn’t going crazy! They really are mice!

“Ahh!” I cried, startled that the icicles turned into mice. We both heard a beeping coming from him. Ford turned around and looked at what I saw, and he breathed a sigh of relief, his breath manifesting in a small bit of mist escaping his mouth.

I looked at him in confusion. How the hell was he not freaking out?

“Well, I finally found it. The anomaly we were looking for,” Ford said, taking out a tablet and taking a picture of the ice-made mice.

What… the hell?

I was absolutely dumbfounded. Was this a part of his paranormal investigations?

“Is that… what?” I said in shock.

This was the first time I heard him genuinely laugh. It was… it was pleasing to hear.

“I’m sorry they gave you a fright. These little guys were what I was looking for,” Ford told me, softly caressing one of them with his index finger. These little icicle mice were rather… affectionate? It rubbed its tiny head against his finger.

“So this is what you do,” I said. “You never answered me in terms of what you did, after all.”

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Ah, that is true. I suppose I do owe you.”

I looked at him expectantly, and he turned a little pink. I looked away in order for him to feel more comfortable. I have been told that my gaze is a little jarring.

“In short, you were right to say that I am a paranormal investigator,” he told me. “I am also a scientist and adventurer.”

I smiled. “Ha! I knew it!” I said, watching the little icicle mice curl up with each other to create one large icicle.

It’s so interesting how… they even exist.

“I just hope… the experience with my brother doesn’t dissuade you from coming to see me again,” he told me. “I meant it when I said you could come and see me whenever you wanted to talk about paranormal topics.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you, Ford.”

He gave me a kind smile in return. My smile dropped, and he gave me a concerned look, almost as if to ask me what was wrong.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your brother when we were in the diner?” I asked.

Ford sighed. “To be frank… I try not to talk about him. Not because I’m ashamed of my brother, but…”

I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “Well, perhaps I can tell you at a different time.”

I nodded. “Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

“While I have you here…” Ford trailed off. “Why did you give me the exact change of the bill? Even after you went on that tirade about needing me to be a gentleman?”

I raised an eyebrow. “It most definitely was not a tirade! I said one sentence!” I retorted. “But, with that being said… I would be comfortable telling you that at a different time.”

Ford nodded. “I see. Perhaps instead of you dropping by unannounced, we set a date for when we can speak about our favorite topic,” he told me with a smile.

I gave him a small smile. “At long last, a solution!” I said playfully.

Ford chuckled. “Friday almost always seems to be a good day for spending time with others, if my people watching is anything to go by.”

I chuckled. “This Friday it is,” I told him. “I didn’t realize you were such a stalker, Ford~”

Ford blushed when I said this, and scratched the back of his head.

Mbjr mbjr mbjr mbjr

Zopa zopa zopa

Why the hell do I always do that? I always make people uncomfortable and put my foot in my mouth! This is why I can’t keep any friends! Now this nice man doesn’t even want to meet up anymore.

Thankfully, he did crack a smile and chuckled, which relieved some of my anxiety.

“Goodnight,” he said my name. “Rest well.”

“Goodnight, Ford. You too,” I told him. I waved to him as I went inside and closed my door, and it wasn’t until then that he started walking back to his home.

Also, what the hell was he talking about when he said that house was eerily quiet? That was a lively home!

Whatever. I’ll bust his chops about it later.

For now, I sleep.

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Next part is here!

#gravity falls #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #ford pines #soos ramirez #melody gravity falls #abuelita gravity falls #stan pines #stanley pines #passionately and deeply #soos x melody

53 notes · View notes

im-a-wonderling · 14 days ago

Text

White Moves First, Part 8 ~ Edmund Pevensie

In another life, y'all, I get to stay at home and drink tea and nibble on snacks while I furiously type my stories like there's no tomorrow. In this life, sadly, I am a student who must spend her time writing chemistry lab reports, giving immunology presentations, and settling the occasional choir drama. Sorry for the three-month-long wait, I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Despite the distance between their two lands, Y/N, princess of Archenland, is close friends with King Edmund the Just. But when push comes to shove, will friendship turn to more?

Warnings: none, other than Mr. Rabbitdash being his creepy prince self

Word count: 5.8k

White Moves First masterlist | Main masterlist

Who knew wedding feasts were so overwhelming?

Moments after Edmund and I entered the candlelit hall, my father grabbed my arm, tugging me away from Edmund before I realized what was happening. “There is Lord Dalor, you must greet him and thank him for his attendance.”

And so it began.

Everywhere I turned, there was another courtier I’d never seen before congratulating me. I politely listened, trying to keep my eyes on the speaking courtiers instead of Queen Susan’s decorations. She’d done a wonderful job, placing the lavender arrangements I’d chosen in beautiful places, along with pale green and purple ribbons flowing in every direction like a spiderweb.

I thanked everyone until I was blue in the face. Pretending to be an elated bride got steadily more difficult, and the buzzing of the nobles talking all around me was slowly driving me mad.

Lord Bote held his goblet aloft, allowing him to place his other hand on his chest in genuine gladness. “Truly, I was so honored by your invitation to your nuptials.”

Forcing a smile, I nodded. “My father insisted on it personally.” A good reply. Flattering, succinct, and upholding of the impression that I’d been the one to invite any of these people to my wedding.

Lord Bote beamed. “I do suppose that your–” The rest of his words were drowned out as my father—all the way at the end of the hall, standing at the king’s seat of honor—stood up and called for everyone’s attention.

My heart sank. What could the king possibly have in mind now?

“Friends, we are so honored by your presence here!” King Loon’s voice boomed. A large cheer rang through the room as goblets were lifted in the air. The king beamed at all his guests, basking in all the attention. “Today is the day of love’s celebration!” A second cheer rose, louder than the first.

“He means his celebration,” muttered a familiar voice beside me, and I slid an arm around Edmund’s back, grateful to have something to hold onto. Edmund wrapped his arm around me in kind, and I squashed the urge to lean into the comfort which was rare on this day.

“But now is a time of great honor for the couple, an auspicious moment that Archenland has the privilege of witnessing.” My father held out his hand to us. “King Edmund, take your bride onto the dance floor.”

I looked up into Edmund’s face, my high strung heart loosening a bit at the sight I knew so well.

Edmund’s lips hovered beside my ear. “Shall we?”

I nodded, taking the hand he offered to me as he led me into the center of the dance floor. The music began, sending Edmund into a low bow. I curtsied.

Edmund’s hand slid across my side, centering on my low back to push me closer to him than I’d ever been during a dance. My first impulse was to pull away, as a lifetime of instruction on deportment had instilled in me. But Edmund and I weren’t merely friends anymore. Marriage changed the little courtesies forming the perimeter of our friendship. I tipped my head back to look at Edmund’s face, trying not to blush at how close it was to my own.

“Finally,” I said quietly as we began the slow steps of a waltz. “I can take a breath.”

I could see the exhaustion tugging at Edmund’s eyes. “Won’t be long now,” he said softly. “Once they’ve all had their fill of ogling the new couple, we can leave.”

Oh, how I couldn’t wait to do so. All the staring, the comments, the festivity that filled the room. All these courtiers were celebrating because their princess wed, none of whom knew Edmund well and none of whom knew of the narrow escape Edmund was for me. I knew no one in this room would be celebrating as grandly if it were a Calormen prince currently dancing with me for the first time as my husband, just as I knew none of them would’ve outright protested the arrangement.

I shook my head.

Thirty minutes. For the rest of my life, I would never underestimate the importance of a half-hour.

The cause of my marriage predicament caught my eye, the Calormen prince lingering at the entrance to the hall, watching us with the posture of indifference, but the eyes of a hunter.

I gulped. “Rabadash is by the door.”

When we were younger, Edmund pursed his lips whenever he held back words he wanted to say. As he got older, he outgrew the habit, but occasionally, I could see the slightest twitch in the muscles of his cheek. If one didn’t know him, they might think he was fighting a smile instead of the urge to speak. Edmund spun us, his eyes lifting for a moment as he confirmed what I’d just told him, and his cheek muscles twitched.

I longed to know what it was he wasn’t saying.

Edmund spun us again so that he was once more in between the Calormen prince and I, as if to shield me from any possible harm from that predatory stare.

“Will he never leave us alone?” I said in despair.

Edmund’s eyes were fixated on me, his freckles standing out even in the low candlelight of the hall. “When the song ends,” he whispered, “I’m going to dip you.”

I glanced at the prince again, trying to ignore the fear worming in my gut. “And kiss me.”

Edmund grinned, and for a moment, I believed it was the idea of kissing me that made him look so eager and lively. “Adding to my strategies again?” he asked, with fondness that was even better than the eagerness.

“I can hardly help it,” I replied. “If there’s room for improvement, I should speak up, should I not?”

“You should indeed.” Edmund twirled me and then brought me back to him, even closer than before, making me crane my neck to keep eye contact. “Since you’re the expert, what kind of kiss would you recommend?”

My heart stuttered as I lowered my gaze to the ruffles of Edmund’s doublet, suddenly bashful. “I’m hardly an expert,” I hedged. “After all, my first was only a few hours ago.”

Did I imagine the tremble in the hand at my back? “But you are the lady,” Edmund replied. “Ladies should dictate what kisses they want…so they’re expecting them.”

“But a wife expects any and all kisses from her husband, does she not?”

Edmund’s lips parted for a moment, his chest rising and falling in a quick breath. “I don’t know, I’d have to ask mine.”

I maintained eye contact, trying to uncover the unspoken words. What was he trying to say? Was he asking permission? Or was there something deeper?

Eyes never leaving mine, Edmund gently braced his hands on my hips before lifting me into the air. With his hands holding me up and my feet apart from the floor, my lungs couldn’t quite draw breath. Even once he set me down to stand on my own merit, the breathlessness didn’t subside.

Edmund’s Adam’s apple bobbed, clueing me into the nerves he felt. My friend and husband was someone who sought out knowledge, who liked to know what to expect, who preferred a foundation of things he could understand. Perhaps, in asking my opinion on what kiss he should give, the man was looking for that same foundation.

I didn’t know what kind of kiss was most likely to discourage Rabadash. I had a sinking feeling that if Rabadash wanted to be encouraged, anything could fuel his fire. But how did I want Edmund to kiss me? Well, I wanted him to kiss me the way he had earlier. Like he meant it. Like there was no one else in the world he’d rather kiss, even if a roomful of people watched.

“I want you–” My voice was hoarse, so I cleared it, trying not to lose my nerve. “I want you to kiss me slowly.” Edmund met my gaze, and my heart jumped in my throat. His gaze had no right being that intense, it scrambled the words in my brain. “If…if you really wanted to kiss me,” I stammered, “i-if we really want Rabadash to think we’re in love, then you should take your time. Like there’s nowhere else you want to be.”

The only answer I got at first was a slow nod. Had I overdone it? Was he uncomfortable?

But when Edmund finally spoke, it wasn’t a change of the subject or a rejection. “What else?”

I squeezed the steady, calloused hand in mine. “Put your hand on the back of my head as you dip me…like I’m precious to you.”

“You are,” Edmund said immediately, then blinked as if surprised by his own words. He seemed to waver on taking it back before quietly repeating himself, sounding more sure now. “You are.”

I smiled warmly, to ease the striking caution I saw on his face. I knew what he meant. Edmund was precious to me too, especially when I could tell that his mind was attempting to untangle his uncertainty in this unfamiliar situation. “Don’t open your eyes right away afterwards, no matter how everyone reacts. Just…stay in the moment with me.” I waited for Edmund’s response, too terrified to keep talking.

The corners of his mouth turned up, and underneath my hand, his shoulder relaxed. “It’s easy to stay in this moment. With you.”

Suddenly, looking up at Edmund's almost-smiling face, I wanted the song to end.

In the way my father was basking in attention, I’d been basking in the proximity with Edmund, dreading the moment the song would end and separate us again to face the sycophantic crowd. And now I wanted the music to trail off, to lean backwards and know that Edmund’s arms would be there to catch me and his lips to greet me.

By Aslan, what was happening to me?

Now I was more nervous than before. This wedding was confusing, in every possible way, and also not anything close to what I expected.

As a princess, as a spare for the throne, I’d never held the power of choice, but even if that luxury had been mine, I never would’ve dared to presume my groom would be a king, and King Edmund at that.

I also never expected a wedding to happen so quickly. Royals were sometimes engaged as children, having almost a decade to get used to the idea of marriage. Even if engagements were sudden, royal weddings didn’t come together almost overnight as this one had.

And my mother wasn’t here.

She’d been gone for years, taken from me so long ago that the idea of an alive mother seemed more foreign than having a dead one. This was an event where she would’ve been hosting. She would’ve been the one picking the decorations, ensuring the food was prepared, standing at my father’s side as they celebrated their daughter’s good fortune. Perhaps that was why my father kept moving amongst the crowd, never staying in one place for too long lest the grief could catch up with him. Perhaps he was right by having me try on my mother’s dress. All he wanted was for her to be here tonight.

Or was that too generous an assessment?

“What’s wrong?”

Shaken from my reverie, I came back to the present moment, blushing a bit when I realized I’d just done the opposite of what I told Edmund to do. “I was just thinking about my mom.” I poked my tongue against the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out whether or not to continue.

“Thinking what?”

“Thinking…about how my dad must feel.” I gave a half-hearted smile. “If your daughter is getting married…it’d make sense that you’d miss your wife, right?”

Edmund didn’t answer, looking characteristically thoughtful. But when he replied, it wasn’t an affirmation or denial. “Do you think she would’ve liked me?”

“I…” My cheeks flushed. I didn’t remember her well enough to know. “I hope so.”

The responding expression wasn’t confused or pitying. It was discerning. All my life, I’d been a transparent princess—I existed. Ignored as easily as I was made a show of. Unreachable by rank. Mysterious by design.

But when Edmund was in the room, I did more than exist.

I was corporeal. I had feelings. I carried importance.

The music grew softer. Edmund let go of my hand to brace his at the base of my neck, guiding me backwards. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I allowed him to hold my weight.

He kissed me, not moving from the dip position.

At first, my mind raced. Were my lips too tense? Did I need to relax? Or was I supposed to move my lips? Edmund was moving his lips a little. I tried to match the movement, but it was peculiar. My hands tightened on his neck, my body starting to panic a bit at still being held above the floor. Would Edmund’s arms get tired? Would he drop me?

And then Edmund’s tongue brushed my bottom lip, and I stopped thinking. My body loosened, like I was silver softening in a smith’s flame, and, by Aslan, Edmund held me like I was something precious.

Slowly, without breaking the kiss, Edmund lifted me up again, setting me on my feet just as the warmth of his face disappeared from mine. I opened my eyes, too curious to help myself.

Edmund’s eyes stayed closed, just as I’d instructed, and his brow was furrowed as though he were in pain. I gazed at his pale complexion, drinking in the noble bridge of his nose and the dark locks of hair resting on his forehead. Then I noticed his lips looked pinker than normal. Was that from our kiss?

Applause broke my trance, and Edmund’s eyes opened, a warm smile crossing his face.

“We survived,” I said lightly, biting my lip to keep from grinning in too undignified a way for a princess.

Someone in the crowd let out a particularly loud cheer, and Edmund’s cheek muscles twitched again. “Twenty more minutes,” he said quietly, “and I’m tying the tablecloths together to get us out of here through the window.”

I laughed, marveling at Edmund’s ability to put me at ease. “I happen to be an excellent knotter.”

“One of the many perks of marrying you,” Edmund said before stepping away to hold out his hand. I took it, allowing him to guide me off the dance floor. We were not among the courtiers for a moment before my father came and whisked Edmund away, leaving me behind.

I frowned at my father’s rush to separate us but quickly had to rearrange my face into a gracious smile as Lord Mor appeared out of nowhere. With no polite way to extricate myself from the situation, I had no choice but to listen to his inane chatter while searching the crowd to see where my husband had gone.

“Excuse me, Lord Mor,” Cor said politely, appearing at my side. “May I speak with my sister for a moment?”

Lord Mor bowed cheerfully and left.

“Thanks for the save,” I mumbled, turning to face my oldest brother.

“What are brothers for?” Cor smiled.

An arm slung around my waist in a casual move only the other twin would do. “Next time you dance with your husband,” Corin said, lifting his goblet, “tell him to save the kiss for later.”

I blushed furiously. Funny, I’d only been thinking of Rabadash seeing our kiss, not the hall full of others and certainly not my brothers. What would a happily married woman say to her brothers after comments like that? When the women of court were married, they seemed to laud their status and knowledge as married women over all the unmarried ones. “When the two of you fall in love, you’ll understand.” I tried to say it as loftily as the other women did, but my brothers just gave me strange looks.

“Gross,” Cor said, his face pinched.

“Heads up,” Corin said, his tone more serious than I knew to expect from him. He gestured with his goblet, and the three of us looked over to see Edmund deep in discussion with my father. King Loon looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, and I momentarily wondered how many goblets of wine he’d drunk. Or perhaps it was the court’s undivided attention he was drunk on.

Edmund, on the other hand, stood rigidly; the only part of him moving was his fist at his side, which clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

Immediately, the three of us whisked across the room to join the kings. “Father, you haven’t spoken to Lord Mor,” Cor quickly said as I slid my hand across Edmund’s middle, trying to comfort my friend.

The king grinned, clapped Edmund on the shoulder, and loudly said, “we’ll discuss it tomorrow, my boy!” And with that, my father allowed Cor to lead him away with Corin on the other side.

“What was that about?” I asked Edmund, twisting around so that I stood in front of him.

Edmund worked his jaw, staring the way my father had gone. “I’ll tell you later.” The tense set of his face made my chest ache a little. He’d given so much to me and my father and my people. All day, he’d done what was expected of him, with no complaint.

All of it was too much, and more than enough for tonight.

Winding my hand through his, I tugged him gently into a walk beside me.

“Where are we going?” Edmund asked.

“Bed,” was all I answered.

It was customary for a husband to bring his wife to his own bedchamber, but Edmund was glad when Y/N instead brought him to a different guest chamber. It was almost identical to his, but minus the possessions strewn about the furniture and carpet. He’d have to pack those in the morning before they left for Narnia.

“I have never been so tired in my life,” Edmund groaned, falling onto the bed. “Are weddings always like this?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Y/N fell onto the bed beside him. “Ours is the first I’ve ever been to.”

“I would be satisfied if it was the only one I’d ever have to go to.”

Y/N huffed in agreement.

Oh, it was a relief to lay down. It was as if Edmund’s body exhaled out the tension of the day, finally allowing him to relax. Before dancing together, King Loon had directed Edmund through an endless stream of sycophantic men and women. It wouldn’t have been so terrible, if only King Loon had allowed Edmund and Y/N to discourse with the guests together, but it almost seemed as if the king were trying to keep Edmund away from his daughter.

Edmund shook his head. No, it was far more likely that King Loon intended to take advantage of having Y/N and Edmund around while he still could.

Then the dancing.

Dancing with Y/N was much more pleasant than talking with people he didn’t know, but then again, doing anything with Y/N was much more pleasant than most anything else.

Including foiling a certain prince.

Yes, that was very pleasant.

It’s too bad there were no teams in chess. Edmund had no doubt that he and Y/N would decimate any opponents. He sat up, looking at his wife.

“Are you alright?” he asked, for what felt like the tenth time that day. He could hardly help it if their wedding warranted constant check-ins with his friend’s wellbeing. If the wedding had truly been an event born of ‘love’s celebration’, he’d be able to read into Y/N’s smiles and expressions of excitement. But with the pretenses they were holding up, Edmund couldn’t assume anything.

But when Y/N smiled at him just now, it wasn’t like the smiles of the day. Her lips spread into a soft smile, setting Edmund at ease in the way only Y/N could. “I’m good. Are you?”

“Better now,” Edmund answered honestly. Here, in the privacy of their temporary chamber, they didn’t have to force anything. They could just be who they were.

Too soon, the happy moment ended as Y/N squeezed Edmund’s shoulder and got to her feet. “Time to get ready for bed.” Edmund groaned, too comfortable to move. Astonishing, really, how exhaustion reordered one’s priorities.

Y/N stood, unclasping her necklace and pulling out her earrings before placing the jewelry on the bedside table. Edmund watched her slide his old signet ring off her ring finger and back onto her pointer finger. Perhaps he should’ve felt slighted by the action, but really, she was right, it looked much better on that finger.

“Um…” Y/N shifted, fiddling with the laces on the back of her dress. “Do you mind?”

Edmund stared at her reddening cheeks, confused at first by what she meant. Then realization dawned, and his own flared. “Ah, of course.” He quickly jumped off the bed, walking around to meet her.

Y/N turned around, presenting the laces to him. Edmund nervously wiped his hands on his pants, staring at the neat knot at the bottom of the bodice, right where his hand had been while dancing. Funny, he hadn’t remembered feeling the knot there.

Taking a quick breath, he started on the knot. The little cords were tinier than Edmund was accustomed to working with. On a ship, the knots of a rope were much thicker and easier to undo, even if they did cause ropeburn. His fingers felt awkwardly large as he tried to undo it, but the knot held firm. “You’re too good a knotter,” he grumbled.

Y/N’s delicate shoulders shook, from shivers or laughter, Edmund couldn’t tell until she spoke with great mirth. “Having a spot of trouble?”

“Blast,” Edmund muttered, and her shoulders shook a little again. “How secure does a dress need to be?” he groused, suddenly thankful that men’s fashion didn’t require a helper to get in and out of. No wonder Y/N had a designated lady’s maid, she had to do this every day, sometimes multiple times.

He tried to use his thumbnail to get some leverage on the knot, but it continued to make him look inadequate in front of his wife. Another minute, and he’d rip the damn dress apart out of pure frustration.

As soon as he thought the thought, his fingers slipped on the laces. Calm down, he told himself sternly. You’re a king, for crying out loud. Act like it.

“You never told me what the problem with your dress was,” Edmund said.

With his hands fidgeting with the knot at her back, he felt her spine stiffen. “It was nothing.”

“Y/N. Honesty.”

The princess let out a heavy sigh. Edmund could imagine her face, slightly irritated and anxious, weighing her words as he knew her to do. He wanted to know if he was right, if his mind could predict what she looked like, but he had a hunch this conversation would be easier for her without being face-to-face.

“My father…wanted me to wear my mother’s dress.” Edmund’s fingers froze, the stubborn knot still in his grasp, as he waited for her to go on and attempted to control his anger with more CHARACTER than King Loon attempted to control Y/N. Y/N shifted her weight. “He said I was always meant to wear it.”

“Did you like it?” Edmund asked with extreme care. “The dress?”

“It was pretty,” was her only answer.

“So you didn’t like it.”

Y/N��s hands slid down her skirt, her fingers sweeping across the fabric. “Not the way I like this one.”

Edmund nodded, satisfied. Finally, the knot gave, and he made quick work of the loops, freeing his wife at last. He turned away from her to face the wall, silently allowing her the privacy to step out of the dress. Then he looked down at his own clothes. Normally he slept in only a pair of sleep breeches, but doing that tonight felt indecent. So he simply took off his boots and fancy doublet, leaving his trousers and undershirt. Anything more could wait until they had a space of their own to solidify their nightly routine.

He could still hear Y/N rustling about, so he stayed where he was, stifling a large yawn with his hand. The rustling continued.

“I’m done,” Y/N finally announced, and Edmund turned to see her already sliding in between the covers of the bed. She fought a large yawn as she ran her fingers through her unbound hair.

Had her hair always been that long? It tumbled over halfway down her back, a few short pieces in the front to softly frame her face. Suddenly, the Archenland hairstyles peeved Edmund. Y/N should’ve always been wearing her hair this way.

He reprimanded himself again. Not appropriate thoughts to have about his friend.

He got into bed beside her, feeling glad he’d sent a note ahead to Cair Paravel to Peter to prepare the bedchamber where they would sleep. He couldn’t imagine bringing Y/N into the chamber he’d had for years in Cair Paravel. Literally. His mind couldn’t conjure the image of her walking in and staring at the organized chaos of Edmund’s things.

The maids at Cair Paravel long ago learned not to disturb Edmund’s chambers for something as disruptive as cleaning. Once, they’d rearranged all of Edmund’s books from his ordered yet overflowing stacks onto his bookshelves, and Edmund nearly had an aneurysm. Sure, it looked messy to the outsider, but really it was an intricate system of information in the forms of books, parchment, and broken quills. An outsider would never be able to appreciate all the little marks on Edmund’s bedpost from Edmund’s attempts to master knife throwing just for the sake of knowing how to do it.

The idea of bringing some mysterious wife into that space troubled Edmund, but he had a feeling that Y/N, his friend, would gladly stand next to him and learn knife-throwing.

And grow more accomplished at it than he.

Nonetheless, Edmund requested Peter move all his parchment and books to a new study while having the furniture replaced and the chambers thoroughly cleaned. The only thing that Edmund had asked to remain was his solid gold chess set, a gift from a foreign dignitary whose name Edmund had forgotten. Y/N had never seen his chess set. Considering she always teased him for choosing to play black, he could already imagine the two of them chuckling over the black pieces being gold instead.

“I can’t wait to see Narnia,” Y/N said suddenly, as if she’d been thinking similar thoughts.

Edmund grinned up at the ceiling. “I can’t wait to show it to you.” What fun the two of them could have. He could show her the library and point out the best armchair by the window with just enough light in the evenings to read by. Oh, and she’d adore the sweet pastries he sometimes nicked from the kitchens while all the staff pretended not to see. And the best place to go in the castle to see the stars at night. The constellations would be the same as Y/N had grown up with. Maybe it’d make her a little less homesick on nights when she missed her homeland.

They laid side-by-side in silence, and Edmund felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier.

“What were you and my father talking about?” Y/N asked, as quiet and light as a flame.

A flash of anger doused Edmund’s insides, waking him up immediately. He rolled to his side, propping his head up on his fist so that he could look down into her face. “Your father was asking when your coronation will be. He wanted to plan it for the day after tomorrow.” In Archenland. King Loon wanted to crown a Narnian monarch in Archenland’s hall. On a day’s notice. Nevermind the concern of crowning a queen in what wasn’t to be her new country, Y/N deserved more than a rushed and disorganized coronation.

Y/N seemed to shrink into the comfort of her pillow, as if she wanted to be swallowed up by the soft down and feathers. “Oh.”

“Y/N?” He waited until Y/N looked at him with curious eyes. “Do you want to be a queen?”

Y/N’s expression was marble smooth, giving him no clues as to her thoughts. Finally, she said, “Narnia already has two queens.”

Edmund narrowed his eyes, trying to analyze her tone. “If you wished it, a coronation could easily be arranged. But…should you not wish it…remaining a princess would be…satisfactory.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, bestowing Edmund with her sudden humorous twinkle. “Satisfactory?”

“You know what I mean,” Edmund grunted, falling flat on his back, preferring the sight of the ceiling for his sanity.

But instead of leaving him to privately stave off embarrassment, Y/N turned onto her side, her thankfully serious face appearing in his view. “Shouldn’t this be a conversation between you and your siblings?”

“It will be. But I want to know what you want before I talk with them.”

The princess seemed to digest this, her eyes drifting off to the side as she thought. She had this habit of puckering up her lips when she was deep in thought, Edmund saw it often when they played chess. Her mind was the most appealing part of her, so it was unfair that whenever she was lost in it, her lips furrowed together as if begging to be kissed.

Edmund shook his head. Really? Was he coming down with a fever or something?

“Is it even wise to have a foreign queen if there are already two?” Y/N asked.

Edmund shrugged. “Susan and Lucy weren’t born in Narnia any more than you were.” Y/N glanced down at the bedding, her hair falling into her face. Without missing a beat, Edmund reached up to tuck the traitorous locks behind her ear.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered as his fingers brushed the shell of her ear. “Do my duties change based on my title?” she asked.

“Officially? Perhaps.” Edmund withdrew his hand. “Practically? Likely not.”

Y/N nodded once, meeting his eyes again. “Then I think I would like to remain a princess. Coronations sound scary.”

Edmund sat up, and Y/N leaned back so they didn’t collide. He intended to ask her if she was sure, but the sight of her contented expression in front of her unbound hair across the pillow told him all he needed to know. Maybe later she would change her mind, and they would organize a coronation then, but for now? She didn’t want that, and Edmund wasn’t about to give her something she didn’t want. “Okay,” he said softly.

She smirked. “Though I still hope the Narnians might grant me a nickname like they have you and your siblings.”

“Oh, certainly,” Edmund replied. “Especially if they see your fear of coronations.” He gestured grandly. “Princess Y/N the cowardly.”

His friend snorted, running her hands through her unbound hair. “More like Princess Y/N the prudent.”

“Y/N the theatrical.”

“Y/N the eloquent.”

“Y/N the laughable.”

Y/N held up a finger. “Y/N the modest.”

“Y/N the loquacious.”

She burst into giggles at that one, a sound that was impossible not to love. Edmund chuckled, unable to help himself.

Their laughter quieted as both settled into their pillows. “Blow the candles out?” Edmund asked.

Y/N hummed, and both of them blew out the candles on their bedside tables.

They didn’t talk anymore. The only sound in the darkness was the occasional rustle as Edmund or Y/N changed position.

Edmund had never shared a bed before. Was Y/N a light sleeper? Would adjusting his position wake her up? Edmund’d never been able to fall asleep quickly; his mind was too active. What if Y/N didn’t feel comfortable falling asleep until he was asleep?

Oh, Aslan, what if Edmund snored? He didn’t think he could ever live it down if he snored and she couldn’t sleep because of it. If he did snore, they’d have to sleep in different bedrooms. Maybe they needed to do that anyways. Would Y/N prefer her own room at Cair Paravel? Would she tell him if she did, or would she simply follow his lead? Maybe Edmund needed to just assume she would prefer a different room. But what if she found it insulting? In the morning, he could ask her, she had promised him honesty if he asked for it.

There, it was settled. He’d ask in the morning.

Oh, he was an unthinking moron. He should’ve asked her before they settled in to sleep tonight. But then again, he didn’t doubt that the Archenland court and staff would gossip wildly if they knew Y/N and Edmund slept in different rooms on their wedding night. The staff at Cair Paravel would be much more understanding, so maybe they needed to wait at least until they were in Narnia.

“Edmund?” Y/N said tentatively into the darkness.

“Yes?”

“Remember when you promised to do whatever I requested?”

“Yes.” Oh no, was she about to ask for a different room? Edmund decided he would be the one to leave. He didn’t want her walking around the halls on her wedding night, people were much more likely to question her than him.

“Will you…will you hug me?”

Edmund blinked. “Of course.” He shuffled over to her, and Y/N shuffled into his arms before he could decide on the logistics of hugging while horizontal.

His right arm acted as a pillow for Y/N’s head while his left curled around her back, holding her close. His fingers unintentionally tangled up in her hair, and it felt exactly as he’d expected. Y/N tucked her head just underneath his chin, the tip of her nose brushing the hollow of his throat. He rubbed her back gently, wanting to reassure her.

This was…surprisingly nice. Sure, maybe Edmund’s arm would fall asleep with Y/N laying on it, but until it fell asleep, it was very comforting. Y/N seemed to agree. He felt rather than heard the long exhale from Y/N’s body as she nestled into his embrace.

When he sleepily laid back a little so he wasn’t directly on his side, somehow Y/N’s head ended up in the crook of his neck. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was Y/N’s hand slowly coming to rest on his chest.

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

White Moves First tag list:

@thesecretlifeofpenguins @read-just-cant @chesh-ire-cat @emotionallyattachedteen @cassini-among-the-stars @uncontainedsmiles @mastermasterlist1p1 @goldfishinpainttubes @silverowl102 @daisyslife

#narnia #chronicles of narnia #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction #edmund #king edmund #king edmund the just #edmund fanfic #edmund fanfiction #arranged marriage #friends to lovers #chess #marriage of convenience #royal marriage #edmund pevensie

45 notes · View notes

girlbossblackbeard · 1 year ago

Text

S2 TRAILER ANALYSIS WITH 1 BILLION SCREENSHOTS

obligatory warning that this post is gonna be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO foolishly long and rambling with all my silly little theories and thoughts and if you ALSO have silly little theories and thoughts you should ABSOLUTELY share them here please!!!! we can clown so much harder when our cacophonous honking harmonizes!!!!!!!

NOW ONTO THE POST (putting it under a read more so tumblr doesn't literally explode):

-the revenge looks BUSTED AF: i don't know if this is from general disrepair when ed is in his kraken era or if she was in a battle but her sails are all dirty in the opening shot of the trailer, and later we see stede on her deck with tattered sails and ropes everywhere, AND i'm like 99% sure that the shot of buttons ziplining from one ship to another is him going from the Chinese warfleet ship to the revenge, which i'm guessing is essentially stuck bc the sails are so torn they would never be able to catch the wind strongly enough to move her. I also wonder if the shot of roach shooting a canon at something is him shooting a canon at her since we had all those allusions to her exploding from samba, vico, and david on twitter all those months ago

-stede's earring: he DOES NOT HAVE THE EARRING when we see him lying on the deck next to roach and sighing dramatically nor does he have it during his conversation with Olu about stede dumping him, but he DOES have the earring in later shots like the beach english fight and when he's talking about being a failure his whole life which means WE WILL GET TO SEE STEDE GET HIS EAR PIERCED!!!!!!!!!! we'll get to see him make the decision to look even hotter and who knows who does the piercing for him idk!!!!!! @sluterastede had a dastardly beautiful thought in her brain about ed giving stede the piercing and stede making groaning noises and izzy once again thinking they're flapping their jacks right there on the deck in front of god and everybody!!!!!

-stede is spilling his heart out ("i let him down. i should've just told him how i feel") to susan on her ship (you can tell it's her by the long hair)

-interesting that there's a drawing of a donkey next to ed's wanted poster considering s1 had the line "a rich donkey is still a donkey". also i can't really read what the surrounding posters say other than "WANTED 20 GUINEAS". is this in the republic of pirates?

-stede says "i will find him" meaning ed may be actively avoiding stede at the beginning of the season???? (or the basic laws of travel physics have finally caught up to them)

-"look, captain, you know blackbeard's gonna murder you" i just think it's interesting that Olu is referring to him as blackbeard again even though ed told everyone in his pink robe era to call him ed. like it makes sense that he'd say blackbeard considering ed is on a rampage but it just made my brain wheels start spinning

-the Kraken crew are eating cake :)

-ed is holding a torch while letting the storm rain down on him: i don't think the laugh we hear is his because i don't think his mouth is even open during that slow-mo shot

-STEDE with a TEAR in his EYE as he says "i think i hurt him pretty bad"

-ed sobbing on the floor while the little bride cake topper is next to his head

-ed choking on the weed smoke i'm ACTUALLY crying, but also: where the fuck is ed when he's sitting in the chair smoking??? i thought it was on deck at first bc above his head is really dark and it looks like the lanterns we see on the deck of the revenge but there's a chandelier too?? it might be whatever shop Anne Bonny and her friend "you two know each other?" run bc behind ed in that chair is just a bunch of random furniture and a chandelier like we see when ed and stede are at the market. in fact, i think ed is smoking with Anne Bonny because I think that's her hand in the corner of that shot:

-"no more booze, no more drugs, and no more _____" not sure what the end of that sentence could be but we know that the "stede" that was put in there is NOT what he actually says!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-"you two know each other?" now hold on a sec because it kinda sounds like stede met Anne Bonny and Co. separately from Ed/before that market scene (maybe in the teaser clip of Anne on Stede's lap??) WHAT IF WE GET THE AITA SCENARIO WHERE ED AND STEDE TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THEIR VERSION OF EVENTS AND NO ONE REALIZES THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT EACH OTHER UNTIL THAT MOMENT BC THEY'RE BOTH SO BIASED ABOUT ONE ANOTHER

-the evil guy definitely got his nose sliced off by Jackie. good for her :D I also don't think the evil guy is Hornigold, i'm still holding onto my theory that the man in the white rags we saw in the teaser and this trailer is hornigold's "ghost" that ed needs to contend with to find his inner peace or whatever a la stede with nigel's "ghost". but i DO think the evil guy is the rich prince dude from that leaked audition tape from rhys's friend. if memory serves, the guy wants to buy his way into the pirate lifestyle but he's pompous and entitled which makes him reckless. based off the production stills we also got today, he still had a nose when he went into Spanish Jackie's...but i don't think he leaves with one. so because he gets butthurt over invading a space that was NOT meant for him and faces the consequences of purposely disobeying their customs, he defects to the english navy and goes on a rampage against all piracy, very MRA energy :/ also, later izzy says to him "you don't know the first thing about piracy" which would further support that this guy just tried to buy his way in

-izzy gets an honest-to-god pegleg but he doesn't start the season off with it because we see him in several shots with both legs, like the wedding raid and swordfighting stede on the beach. unsure if he loses it due to infection from the toe situation or if he gets shot in the knee like i've seen some posts talk about, but @sluterastede mentioned that one of the leaked audition tapes for archie included dialogue about an amputation so maybe that character has to uh. Get Her Roach On

-as i mentioned before with the teaser analysis, izzy is clearly training stede for something and now im guessing it's the english but like we kinda knew that !

-olu is in a bar fight??

-THE "ED GETS CAUGHT IN A BUCKET ON A ROPE DURING THE STORM AND GOES OVERBOARD" THEORY IS OUT. THE "ED TIES HIMSELF TO A MF BIG ASS ROCK AND JUMPS OFF A GOD DAMN CLIFF TO GO ON SOME SOUL-SEARCHING JOURNEY UNDER THE SEA" THEORY IS IN. and what the FUCK is the rag man doing with ed up on that cliff hello?????? if my theory is correct and that is in fact hornigold's ghost or whatever, what advice or harmful shit is he saying that makes ed do that?????????????????????? but do note the large rock with the rope around it in the first pic

-the revenge crew is blowing up SOMETHING on the side of a building. maybe to cause a distraction or gain access inside the building? is it the side of Spanish Jackie's?? also hiiiiiiii lucius <3

-"our entire escape relies on this" i'm just assuming they're trying to escape from the english bc that seems to be the Big Bad of the season??

-not plot related but during the rope swinging training session izzy slaps stede on the ass and makes this face (sir??????):

>he also has his pegleg here so their mentorship may ramp up after izzy is out of commission for hand-to-hand combat. maybe izzy was supposed to have a larger fighting role alongside ed in defeating the english but once he became incapacitated he realized he would need to train someone else up for the job so ed would be sufficiently protected. but it also had to be someone izzy knew would be willing to die for ed to save his life if it came to that, just like izzy would

-"i've been a failure my whole life. it's not so bad once you get used to it" is stede talking to ed here? is that ed's hair in the corner of the frame??

>side note: as mentioned above, stede also has his earring by this point!!

-"you're going through that 'if i was a regular dude' phase" first of all, SPANISH JACKIE AND EDWARD TEACH BEST FRIENDS TRUTHERS RISE UP. second, why would ed be considered a regular dude now?? how did he lose his reputation? did he willingly give it up or was it taken from him? is this permanent or just temporary? or did he fake his own death with the cliff and the rock thing so he could retire and live a more normal life?? the swede doesn't seem scared of him at all in the final clip from the trailer, straight up asking him if he's poor and going "back to basics". of course, that could just be a power trip from being one of Jackie's newest husbands (or at least her waitstaff)

-possibly totally minor/just a continuity error thing, but: ed has a red ring. we saw it in s1 as he picks up the rather fine cashmere and we see it as ed dramatically drapes himself across the ship's helm with his head on his hand. we do not see it in the scene where he's smoking (see above) or the scene where he's talking to the rabbit. now, if you'll allow me a little bit of clownery for a moment, red has been explicitly coded in this show to be a symbol of love/the heart, especially as it pertains to edward like his red silk scarf as a metaphor for his heart in s1. what if. what if he. gave the red ring (his heart) to. SomeOne. because.....................because his heart belongs to st--[GUNSHOTS]

-olu, jim, and archie with garlic around their necks and making a cross with their fingers - clearly they think someone is a vampire on the ship. @sluterastede proposed it could be izzy, especially if he's on the brink of death due to an infection and frenchie managed to spread his superstitions to other people on the ship!

-THIS FUCKIN GUY. WHO ARE YOU??? it seems like he kidnaps stede and his crew and throws a party on the ship and drugs the drinks which is why everyone is kinda tripping/laughing in some parts. but then everyone gets tied down (stede to the mast, wee john's hands get squished, olu and roach's heads get squished, and jim and archie's feet get secured to the ship's railing i think??). also that wide shot is definitely the rando dude hitting some shrill high note at the same moment the revenge crew cry out in pain from all the squishing (except maybe jim and archie - they might just be laughing at the others bc they're badasses and this pain is nothing). also don't know what the guy is looking at when we first see him but im thinking maybe it's a wanted poster of stede and he's looking at the description of the gentleman pirate to confirm it's the dude right in front of him/that he's captured?? also i think roach is wearing flowers from the drug party in his apron when he fires that canon, so maybe he's tripping too and shoots a canon?? i need a prayer circle for the revenge's safety at this time

-stede has a bullet hole???????????????? did ed fucking shoot him in the heart?????????????????????????? he also notably does NOT have the earring in this scene but he does have the sexy stiddies (blue) shirt like we see in the other shot where he DOES have the earring. maybe this weirdo dude pierces stede's ear bc he thinks stede needs to look more piratey?? or stede gets absolutely sloshed (or drugged) and gets his ear pierced idk !!! maybe jim does it bc they're effortlessly cool and has a bunch of ear piercings!!!

-idk if this is a coincidence or not but i'm pretty sure stede in his training scenes with izzy is wearing the clothes he wore in that final shot of s1 as he rows to find the crew on the island (white linen shirt, dark pants, brown belt and boots). so either costume changes are happening later in the season, they're reusing outfits like normal people do, or the training montage happens extremely early on in the season

-so originally with the teaser trailer i thought ed falling in the water was followed by the shot of ed coming out of the water on the beach. i don't know if i fully believe that anymore because ed is NOT wearing his jacket on the cliff (see above), but he IS wearing it as he comes up out of the water, so either it's two different events and ed just spends a lot of time in the water this season or he puts his jacket on before jumping off the cliff

-ed his holding his right side as he slashes that dude on the beach so he definitely got hurt in battle but i hope it's not him getting stabbed bc ur supposed to cleverly take the sword on the left where all the unimportant bits are :(((

-I VERY STRONGLY BELIEVE that the person in the scene where stede turns around and shoots his gun into the air and everyone else on deck suddenly draws their weapons against that person is our boy lucius!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's wearing a beret?????????? @sluterastede proposed that lucius got picked up by the english navy after getting thrown overboard and that's why we see him in the english navy garb (which we later see frenchie in too?? i believe an infiltration fuckery is afoot). also the fact that the shot immediately after this one is of Black Pete doing a happy little fist pump which i'm choosing to interpret as a cute little easter egg symbolizing Pete gets reunited with his love. i also also also believe lucius is in the shot of buttons about to zipline from one ship to the other. i missed him :')

-okay i know i said in an earlier post that stede running across the beach was romantic but i changed my mind and i think izzy is just making stede do cardio as part of his training lol. his outfit matches the one he's wearing when swordfighting izzy in that earlier wideshot and i think he even still has the scarf belt and the full beard in both scenes (explained at the end of this post via production stills) so maybe they have an honest to god training montage that takes course over several days and we get an incredible 80s powerballad to play on top of it while stede thinks of ed to motivate him or whatever. david jenkins hire me to help write season 3 i have ideas

-i think jim is behind stede as he breaks into the weirdly religious room we saw in the teaser when stede punches that guy??

-ed is pretty bloodied in the shot of stede leaning over him and saying VERY worriedly "ed????" so my theory is that ed got hurt in battle or he was taken captive by the Chinese warfleet and stede was worried he was grievously injured. however, once ed comes to and realizes who's kneeling over him, he gets pissed and headbutts stede because he's still mad at him for breaking his heart, and maybe his hands are restrained/his body is too weak so he can't push stede away. or maybe they had to begrudgingly work together on some mission and stede fucked it up and ed got hurt so he's mad about that idk!! ALSO HE'S WEARING THE CRAVAT HELLO

-ed in buttons's shirt looking so PEACEFUL what the HELL. obviously it's from the same general time as him being in Spanish Jackie's when she's talking to him about being a regular dude and later when the swede asks him if he's poor addkjfajdfhlkefh i fucking love this show and its writing so much. but ed says "no, i'm just trying something different man >:/" so i wonder if this is ed at the end of s2 or if this is more towards the middle as he's still in the thick of his healing journey. maybe buttons teaches ed about meditation and/or the tai chi he practiced with the Chinese warfleet crew??

-the BTS production still of ed with his "trust no one" tattoo also features what i believe is the treasure chest we see jim carrying off the ship in the shot where fang is smashing two dudes' heads together!

-i also think the BTS production still of stede with the beard is early on in ep 1 because he has a full beard (that im hoping someone on the revenge bullies him into shaving off to the scruff we see in the rest of the promo materials) and ALSO because he's wearing a long red scarf around his waist, which we never see again in any of the other promo material - except, however, around his neck as a makeshift cravat:

>it's the same exact material and everything! my guess is he gets his ass handed to him in a fight (maybe against izzy??) and his scarf belt gets destroyed, so he repurposes the shredded fabric into his necktie

-there's literal gold bars in the background of this production still lmao the kraken crew got BUSY during ed's goth era

>speaking of, the fucking hair dye dripping down izzy's forehead in this production still:

*sad clown noises*

in conclusion:

WE'RE BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

anyway that's my second dissertation on less than 2 minutes of content that turned out to be quite literally 6 pages long :)

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 trailer #izzy hands #the swede #spanish jackie #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #wee john feeney #ofmd spoilers #i don't know what i need to be evaluated for but it's SOMETHING and it's PREVALENT #i spent a collective 5 hours making this post what the whole actual fuck

367 notes · View notes

redroomreflections · 4 months ago

Text

Threads of A Promise - The Loud House One Shot

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

This is a story directly tied to my fic The Loud House on a03

W/c:6.2k

Summary: Natasha and R are a few years into marriage and experience loss and grief.

Note: this is a glimpse into their earlier years of marriage. a time R has mentioned before.

Trigger warning: mentions of blood. miscarriage. pregnancy

Note: This is a super angsty one-shot.

"Yes, I've already informed Mr. Davis about the new evidence. We'll review it before the meeting at 10 a.m.," You said, your voice calm and efficient. "Thank you, Susan. See you then." You confirmed as you stood at the counter, slicing fresh vegetables for your breakfast scramble, while Natasha stirred eggs and bacon in a sizzling pan. The smell of cooking filled the air, blending with the quiet sounds of the slow morning routine. You glanced up from your chopping, a small smile on your lips. You loved watching her concentrate on something as simple as cooking.

“I have back-to-back meetings today,” You sighed as you set your cell phone on the counter.

“Sounds like a busy morning,” Natasha commented as she reached into the fridge to grab bell peppers for you to dice. You hum in acknowledgment. You passed her the things you’d already chopped to get started on something else.

"I’m heading to the shelter after work today," You said casually. "They need extra hands for the evening shift."

Natasha turned, a curious look on her face. "Volunteering again? You don’t quit," she said. "You’re going to tire yourself out.”

You paused, realizing how packed your schedule had become lately. "I know, but it’s important to me," you replied, glancing at Natasha with guilt. "And it’s just a few hours. I’ll be home before dinner. Brandon has Willow for the day. We’re free tonight."

Natasha nodded, her expression softening. "I know you care. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too."

You smiled gratefully at her, appreciating her understanding. "I won’t forget.”

“Speaking of not forgetting, you’ve set time aside for the insemination appointment tomorrow, right?” Natasha turned off the stove, maneuvering around you to place an omelet on each plate.

“Insemination appointment?” You narrowed your eyes, a flicker of concern crossing your face. “Right, what time is that again?” you asked, trying to hide the uncertainty in your voice.

Natasha paused, noticing your hesitation. She reached over to gently squeeze your hand. “It’s at 9 a.m. I mentioned it last week, remember?”

You nodded slowly, the memory coming back to you. “Right, 9 a.m.,” You repeated, trying to reassure both Natasha and yourself. “It’s stored up here.” You knocked on your head. You grabbed a protein shake from the fridge and cracked it open. Natasha watched you for a few seconds more.

“You don’t sound so enthused about it,” She pointed out. “It’s not like you to forget something as important as that. If you’re having second thoughts about us having a baby we can-”

Natasha’s words hung in the air, her concern palpable. You paused, setting down the protein shake and turning to face her fully. The mix of emotions — nerves, excitement, and a touch of apprehension — played across your features.

“It’s not that,” You began softly, reaching out to take Natasha’s hands in yours. “I want this more than anything. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming sometimes. Between work, volunteering, and now this…” Your voice trailed off, unsure how to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. “This being our second round. It just feels…” You stepped closer to her as she reached out her arms for you.

Natasha’s expression softened, her thumb gently stroking your hand. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” she said quietly, her love and understanding evident in her eyes.

You shook your head, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “No, I am ready. I know I am. It’s just a lot to take in, you know?” You admitted, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you spoke your truth. “I want this for us. We talked about it.”

“And it was my idea in the first place,” Natasha mentioned. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. If a baby isn’t something you want we can just shelve it or reschedule.”

Natasha’s voice was calm and steady, her concern evident as she watched you closely. Her willingness to accommodate your feelings touched you deeply.

“I appreciate that,” You replied sincerely, your eyes meeting hers with gratitude. “But I want this, Natasha. I really do. I may be nervous, but I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.”

Natasha smiled warmly, pulling you into a tight hug. “Then that’s all that matters,” she murmured against your ear, her arms holding you close.

“I will be at the appointment,” You said pointedly as you pulled away. You sat on the stool right next to her.

“What appointment?” Brandon your brother asked as he carried a half-dressed Willow into the kitchen. He shook his head. He didn’t have the time to question it. He reached over to your plate, scooping a mouthful of eggs.“Sorry, we’re running late for preschool. I have class in about forty minutes so we have to rush. Can one of you tell her to put her shoes on?” He begged knowing she would listen to you.

“Hi, Mama,” Willow waved as Brandon set her down on her feet. She raced straight for Natasha and held her arms out expectantly.

Natasha smiled warmly, scooping Willow up into her arms. “Hey, sweetie! Let’s get those shoes on, okay?”

You chuckled softly, watching the familiar scene unfold. “We’ve got it covered, Brandon. Go ahead, we’ll take care of the shoes and school.”

Brandon nodded gratefully, quickly grabbing his things before heading toward the door. “Thanks, guys! See you later, Willow. Love you!”

“Bye, Daddy!” Willow called out cheerfully, wiggling her toes as Natasha gently slipped on her shoes.

Natasha glanced over at you with a fond smile. “Looks like we’re on shoe duty,” she teased gently, her eyes sparkling with affection.

You nodded, feeling a warm sense of contentment settle over you as you helped Willow get ready for her day. Moments like these reminded you of the family you were building together. Soon there would be two little people running around. It didn’t sound so bad.

***********

"I know you've been worried," You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "About whether I'm still... in this."

Natasha tightened her hold on you, rubbing her fingers across your bare skin. "I... I just want this so much for us," she admitted quietly.

"Natasha, I am in this," You reassured, your words steady and earnest. "I want a baby too. You’ve never had to convince me. Not truly. Having a family with you is a dream. Whatever that looks like for us. We will get there.”

Natasha rested her chin on your shoulder, her breath warm against your neck. "I know," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "It's just... sometimes I worry that I'm not doing enough, that I can't give you everything you deserve."

"You give me everything," You said firmly, your eyes locking with Natasha's. "I don’t want you to doubt yourself or worry.”

Natasha pressed a kiss to your forehead. She felt more at ease about this entire thing.

*************

Coming to the doctor’s office isn’t always the breath of fresh air you wish it to be. You dislike hospitals and by extension this clinic. The examination room is cool and sterile, the hum of medical equipment a constant background noise. You lay on the padded table, your hand clasped tightly in Natasha's. You tried to think on the bright side of all this. You would be pregnant. There would be a happy baby with your skin and Natasha’s smile. Your treasure at the end of the rainbow.

Dr. Patel entered the room, her demeanor calm and professional. "Y/n, Natasha, good to see you both," she greeted warmly. "Are you ready to get started?"

You nodded, your grip on Natasha's hand tightening slightly. "Yes, we're ready."

Natasha gave you an encouraging smile. "We're in this together," she whispered, kissing your knuckles. All you needed was her comfort right now.

Dr. Patel moved to the end of the table, preparing the necessary instruments. "This will be a quick procedure," she explained. "I’ll walk you through each step as we go."

You took a deep breath, focusing on Natasha's reassuring presence by her side. "We've got this," you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else.

Natasha leaned in closer, her thumb gently stroking your hand. "We do," she affirmed softly.

You took another deep breath as the nurse positioned the ultrasound equipment on your abdomen. The cool gel and gentle pressure of the transducer were a familiar sensation, grounding you in the moment. This was the easy part.

After a bunch of medical stuff you’d rather not remember you could hear the murmur of the staff talking with each other.

"The embryos are ready," the embryologist announced, handing the catheter containing the precious cargo to Dr. Patel.

She began the procedure, her movements precise and efficient. "I'm going to insert the catheter now," she explained. "You might feel a little pressure, but it shouldn’t be painful."

You nodded, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. As the procedure progressed, the room seemed to shrink around you, the outside world fading away. It was just the two of you, your hopes and dreams intertwined in this pivotal moment.

Natasha leaned closer, her voice a soothing whisper. "We’re almost there, love. Just breathe."

You nodded, her grip tightening as Dr. Patel carefully inserted the catheter through your cervix and into your uterus. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of the ultrasound machine, as everyone focused on the delicate task.

After a few minutes, Dr. Patel finished the insemination and stepped back. "All done," she said with a reassuring smile. "Now we wait. I’ll schedule a follow-up appointment in two weeks to check on everything."

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "The second time’s the charm right?” You felt Natasha’s gentle kiss against your forehead.

*********

Two lines. Two. The test was positive. Pregnant. Natasha’s baby was inside you. You were pregnant. The thought left you breathless and giddy. Here you were at home on a Monday afternoon, the only time you'd get alone in the house, staring at two pregnancy tests. You’d waited three weeks. It was hard to satiate Natasha's curiosity, but you wanted to be sure this time. And now, here you were, with two sticks confirming your dreams. You slid down onto the bathroom floor, overwhelmed. You could hardly believe it. There was a baby inside you.

There are so many people you want to call right now but you’d rather keep it to yourself. You want Natasha to be the first person to know.

“Oh God!” You gasped, holding the sticks in your hands. You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to have a baby. There’s life growing inside of you.

A whirlwind of emotions surged through you—excitement, joy, and a touch of anxiety. The reality of it all was immense. Would you be a good mother? Could you balance your career and this new life you were bringing into the world? The questions swirled in your mind, but the overwhelming feeling was one of pure, unadulterated happiness.

You thought about Natasha's reaction. Her eyes lit up, her hands gently touching your stomach, the way she would pull you into a tight embrace, whispering promises of a beautiful future together. The thought made your heart swell with love and anticipation.

You stood up slowly, still clutching the pregnancy tests, and looked at your reflection in the mirror. A wide smile spread across your face, despite the tears that began to blur your vision. This was real. This was happening. You were going to be a mom. You and the love of your life are going to have a baby.

*********

So you may have gone overboard with preparation. You only had a few hours until Natasha was home, but you wanted to make this special. You’d traveled to Target and then a few other stores to find the perfect little trinkets for a pregnancy announcement.

Back home, you laid out your finds on the kitchen table: a tiny pair of Avengers-themed baby booties, the two pregnancy tests you’d taken earlier, and a baby onesie that read "Future Avenger in Training." You smiled, knowing how much Natasha would love the references.

You set to work, arranging everything in a cute gift box. You carefully wrapped the baby booties in tissue paper and placed them at the bottom. On top, you added the pregnancy tests. Finally, you laid the onesie on top, its message visible as soon as the box was opened.

As you worked, a wave of excitement washed over you, momentarily pushing aside your earlier anxiety. This was your moment, and you wanted it to be perfect. You added a note to the box, written in your neatest handwriting:

"To my amazing wife, the strongest Avenger, and soon-to-be mom. I can't wait to embark on this incredible journey with you. Love, y/n."

With the box prepared, you set it in the living room, positioning it where Natasha would see it as soon as she walked in. You took a step back, admiring your handiwork. It was simple yet heartfelt, and you knew Natasha would appreciate the thought and effort you put into it.

Now, all that was left to do was wait. You glanced at the clock, feeling the minutes tick by slowly. Your heart raced with anticipation as you imagined Natasha's reaction. Would she cry? Laugh? Probably both, knowing her.

Finally, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Natasha was home. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you prepared to share the most wonderful news. You could hear the subtle footsteps from Natasha as she shuffled through the foyer, dropping her keys in the bowl, before she made her way through the house. She didn’t even know you were home so she takes a little more time than usual. Finally, you became impatient.

“Hey, babe,” You called out to her. “Can you come here?”

You heard the light shuffling of footsteps as Natasha made her way to the living room. She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. The small gift box sat on the coffee table, your handwriting visible on the note.

"Y/N, what is this?" She asked, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “I didn’t know you’d be home so soon. I would have picked up food or something.”

“I’m not hungry,” You couldn't contain your grin as you motioned for her to open the box. "Just a little something I put together," you said coyly. "I think you'll like it."

Natasha picked up the box, her gaze darting between you and the gift. She read the note first, glancing at you with tears in her eyes before she opened the box. Her gasp was telling and her reaction was instant. She moved to hug you, pulling you tightly against her, and kissing your head.

"Oh, y/n," she choked out, her emotions getting the best of her. "I can't believe it. We're going to be moms. Are you happy?"

You clung to her, your tears threatening to spill. "I know," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I'm so happy, Tasha."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes shining with tears and pure joy. She cupped your cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Natasha said. “Your belly’s going to get so big.”

"I know," you giggled, imagining the future. "But it'll be worth it. To see you and our baby...it'll all be worth it."

She laughed, her face radiating pure joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” She hugged you to her, lifting you off your feet and spinning in a circle. "I love you, I love you so much," She said.

"I love you too," You couldn't hold back the happy tears. "We're going to have a baby, Tasha."

"I can't believe it," She said, kissing you again. "I can't wait to tell everyone."

You couldn't stop smiling. This was truly the beginning of the rest of your lives.

********

After a lot of prompting, you and Natasha decided to keep everything a secret until the second trimester. Which was a feat within itself. There was so much you wanted to say. Your family was huge and so was Natasha’s. The entire Avengers team always knew all of your business but this time was different. You hadn’t even told Brandon yet as you wanted to keep this just between the two of you.

You and Natasha had your little secret. A baby. Well, not a baby yet.

“Our baby’s the size of a blueberry right now,” Natasha mentioned to you as you brushed your teeth. After a bout of morning sickness, you needed to feel clean. Your first appointment was today. Hopefully, you’d get to hear the baby’s heartbeat. “Maybe that’s what we should call him. Blueberry.”

You smiled around your toothbrush, spitting the paste out into the sink. You rinsed and turned to look at Natasha. "That's actually a really cute name," you said. "It's unique and special. How are you so sure our baby is a boy?"

She shrugged, leaning against the doorway. "Just a feeling," she replied, a soft smile gracing her lips. "A mother's intuition."

"Well, you'll be the most badass boy mama there ever was," You leaned up to kiss her.

“How do you like the name James?” She asked.

“You’re already thinking of names too? You’re light years ahead of me,” You laughed. Natasha smiled, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you close. "James Romanoff-L/N," you said, testing the name out. "I love it."

"Me too," She agreed, kissing the side of your head.

"What if Blueberry is a girl though? Would be pretty hard to walk around with that name."

Natasha chuckled. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she replied. "But whatever we choose, I know they'll be perfect."

An hour later you’re lying in a familiar position, the transducer against your belly as you listen to OB/GYN talk.

“You’re seven weeks today right?” Dr. Wendell estimated "According to your chart and baby's size."

Natasha looks at you, nodding her head. This is it. Your first sonogram.

She squeezes your hand, her eyes never leaving the screen. "This is so surreal," she whispered, her gaze transfixed on the black-and-white image.

You grinned, the excitement palpable. "I know," you murmured, your eyes locked on the grainy image.

You and Natasha both watched as the doctor maneuvered the transducer across your stomach, searching for the best angle. "There we go," she said after a moment, her finger tracing the tiny speck on the screen. "Your baby."

You gasped, the realization hitting you. "Our baby," you breathed, your heart swelling with love and joy. "Wow."

Natasha pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, her eyes glistening with tears. "I can't believe we're really doing this," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

This picture was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“In about 4 weeks you will be able to see the sex of the baby,” Dr. Wendell informed you. “You guys can come back then. For now, everything looks healthy.”

"This is really happening," Natasha whispered, her eyes filled with wonder and joy. "We're going to be moms."

You leaned into her side, basking in the warmth of her presence. This was the happiest you’d ever been.

********

Of course, with pregnancy comes pregnancy symptoms. Morning sickness, sensitive breasts, and fatigue. The fatigue had to be the worst part. You could fall asleep anywhere these days: at your desk, as soon as you got home, even in the shower. It’s a miracle you’d been able to keep up with everything. Which is why you said yes to tonight. Tony and the rest of the team were having a family dinner, and you wanted to be there. You wanted everything to be normal for you.

As you prepared for the evening, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You glanced at the clock, wishing for a quick nap but knowing you didn’t have time. Instead, you splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would give you the boost you needed to get through the night.

Natasha found you in the bathroom, her concerned eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “You okay?” she asked, wrapping her arms around you from behind.

“Just tired,” you admitted, leaning into her embrace. “But I really want to go tonight. I miss everyone.”

Natasha kissed your temple gently. “You sure? We can stay home and rest if you need to.”

You shook your head, turning to face her. “No, I want to go. I need a bit of normalcy. Besides, I miss seeing you with the team. It’ll be fun.”

Natasha studied your face for a moment before nodding. “Alright, but promise me you’ll let me know if you need to leave early. Your health comes first.”

“I promise,” you said, smiling up at her.

“You’re starting to show,” She smirked.

“Am I? It just looks like I ate a big breakfast,” You grinned as she rested her hand on your belly.

"You're beautiful," she murmured, her hand resting protectively over your growing bump.

The dinner party was just the kind of escape you needed. Seeing all your friends, laughing, eating, and dancing made you happy . Keeping baby Romanoff a secret for a little while longer would be a feat but you could do it.

The drive to Tony’s was filled with your usual banter, but you couldn’t ignore the growing fatigue. By the time you arrived, you were already craving your bed. Still, you put on a brave face, determined to enjoy the evening.

The warmth and laughter that greeted you as you walked into the compound made the effort worthwhile. It felt good to be surrounded by friends who were more like family.

As the night progressed, you found yourself slipping into conversations, laughing at Tony’s jokes, and watching Natasha interact with the team. She was in her element, and seeing her so happy filled your heart with joy.

But the fatigue was relentless. You found a quiet corner to sit down, hoping to rest for a moment without anyone noticing. Natasha, ever-attentive, quickly picked up on your exhaustion and made her way over to you.

“Hey, you holding up okay?” she asked, concern etched in her features.

“Yeah, just needed a breather,” You admitted, rubbing your tired eyes.

Natasha nodded and took your hand. “How about we sneak away early? I’m sure Tony will understand.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing around at your friends. “No, I’m fine. I’m just going to go into the kitchen and drink some water. I want another hour.”

“If you’re sure,” Natasha looked at you suspiciously.

“I’m positive,” You nodded.

Natasha helped you up and watched as you quietly walked into the kitchen. In the kitchen, you grabbed a glass and filled your cup with ice. The water was refreshing and freezing cold. Just as you liked it. The hot flashes were no joke either.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” Wanda’s voice startled you as she entered the kitchen.

“Wanda? How did you know?”

“I’m a witch remember?” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell the others.”

You chuckled, feeling relief at her promise. “Thanks, Wanda. It’s still early, and I want to keep it between Natasha and me for a bit longer.”

Wanda nodded understandingly. “Of course. How are you feeling?”

You took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. “Excited, anxious, exhausted… all of it. The symptoms are hitting me hard, but I’m managing.”

Wanda’s eyes softened with empathy. “If you need any support, magical or otherwise, you know you can count on me.”

“Thank you, Wanda. That means a lot,” you said sincerely.

She gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re going to be a great mom, y/n. And Natasha will be an amazing co-parent.”

Hearing those words, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. “I hope so. We’ve wanted this for so long.”

Wanda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You two are one of the strongest couples I know. You’ll handle whatever comes your way.”

You nodded, feeling bolstered by her words. “That means a lot, Wanda.”You smiled and took another sip of your water, the coldness helping to steady you.

Together, you walked back into the living room. Natasha’s eyes met yours, her concern melting into a smile as she saw you were feeling better. You gave her a reassuring nod and rejoined the group, determined to make the most of the evening with your chosen family.

********

At night, as your pregnancy progressed, Natasha’s obsession with your baby became more apparent. You were barely showing and it was all she could think about. Whenever it was time for bed she’d spend a few minutes massaging your belly and grinning at you. "Blueberry is still a blueberry," You mentioned to her. "He's not going to turn into a watermelon overnight."

"I know, but I love feeling him," Natasha said, her voice full of awe. "And besides, blueberry is growing."

"Just barely," You joked. "I'm not even ten weeks yet."

Natasha chuckled, placing a soft kiss against your stomach. "Well, he's still the cutest little blueberry I've ever seen," she said.

"He is, isn't he?"

"How are you feeling?" Natasha said as she came up to look into your eyes. When her hand touches your breast accidentally she quickly apologizes. You've become way too sensitive and any form of touch, accidental or not practically sends you into shock.

"Sensitive," You answer truthfully. "I think the baby is making them grow."

"I've noticed," She smirks. "No morning sickness?"

"There's always that but it's manageable," You shrug.

She kisses your cheek, hugging you to her. "Good," she whispers, her hands coming down to rest on your stomach again. "I want the both of you healthy."

"I'm trying my best," You reassure her.

"I know," She said. "But you're still my responsibility."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it?"

"Yes, I'm the boss," She kissed you softly.

"Well, boss, can you cut the lights out, I'd like to sleep now," You closed your eyes.

"As you wish," She turns off the lights before spooning you. She holds you close, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, her hand resting on your stomach. "Sleep well, my loves."

*********

Nine weeks, two days, and five hours. That’s how long you got to spend with blueberry safely housed inside of you. You’d woken up that morning like any other day. It’s a PTO day. You, Natasha, and Willow were supposed to spend it in the park. When you opened your eyes, you felt an unsettling feeling in the base of your belly. A slight ache you’d never experienced before. Dr. Wendell and Dr. Patel mentioned there would be some cramping but this felt different. The moment you felt a slight wetness between your thighs you knew.

You slipped from the bed, hoping not to wake Natasha, as you rushed into your ensuite bathroom.

In one swift motion, you'd thrown the toilet lid up and pushed your panties down.

It was too late.

You'd caught sight of the bright red stain on the once pristine white cotton and immediately burst into tears.

This was all the confirmation you needed. It was over. Blueberry was gone.

Spotting is normal too. You’d read countless online articles that confirmed this very thing. This isn't spotting. You reach blindly for toilet paper, tearing off a decent amount, before you wipe. It won't stop. There's so much. So much.

You're shaking as you kick your underwear to the side, the stain obvious now. You can't help but cry as you stumble over to the bathtub. You know you should get Natasha. You should yell out to her and she would come running. Instead, you lock the door. You turn on the shower and position yourself against the bottom of the tub. The dull ache is now stronger. There's nothing anyone can do for you.

You don't remember how long you sat under the warm spray of the water. The tears wouldn’t stop. They keep flowing like a never-ending stream. You couldn’t breathe.

Outside of the bathroom, Natasha awakened to find your side of the bed empty. She hummed contently as she stretched before she reached out to pull you closer. Only you aren't there.

"Y/n?" Natasha called out, her eyes searching the room. When you didn’t respond, she frowned. "Y/n? Babe, where are you?"

Natasha pulled herself out of bed, her brow furrowed as she searched the room. The bathroom door was closed, and she could hear the faint sound of running water.

"Y/n?" Natasha tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

Natasha frowned, concern etched on her face. "Y/n, open the door," she called out, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

There was no answer.

Natasha jiggled the handle again, more forcefully this time. You never truly lock doors. Natasha doesn't want to break the door down. She needed you to open it.

"Babe, please, open the door," Natasha pleaded, her voice laced with worry. "You're scaring me."

"Go away," You yelled back weakly. "I'm fine. Just please go away." You don't want her to see you like this. You don't want her to know that you lost the baby. You don't want to disappoint her. You couldn't be the one who failed.

"I'm not going anywhere," Natasha replied, her tone firm. "Now, open the door."

"No!" You cried out, your voice was raw with emotion. "Please, just leave me alone."

"Y/n," Natasha's voice was soft, but you can hear the underlying concern. "Please, just let me in. Whatever it is, we can get through it together." Natasha doesn't wait a moment longer. She squared her shoulders and kicked the door down. The sound of wood splintering is the only sound you can hear as the door gives way.

"Oh, y/n," Natasha gasped as she took in the scene before her. The tub was half-full of water and the bottom was stained red. Her eyes flew to you half awake and lying tiredly against the cold tile. You're sitting in a pool of blood. Natasha immediately rushed over to you, her eyes filled with concern and worry. "Y/n, baby. I think we need to go to a hospital. " She swallowed thickly.

"No," You choke out, shaking your head. "No, I hate hospitals."

"There's too much blood, y/n," Natasha attempted to convince you.

"I'll be fine," You said, your voice trembling slightly. "Just need to stay in the shower a little longer."

Natasha shook her head. "We don't have any longer. You can't stay like this. Baby, I can't let you stay like this." She turned off the water, calling out for Brandon as she began to scoop you up. You crumple in her arms, whimpering at the pain you feel from the movement. "I'm sorry baby. I know it hurts. I'm going to take you to a hospital."

"Nat," You mumbled.

"What is it, baby? What can I do?" She asked, her eyes searching yours.

"Don't let go."

"Never."

"What's going on?" Brandon tiredly stepped into your ensuite. He didn’t need to ask as he spotted the blood. "Holy fuck, what do you need me to do? I'll drive you."

"No, you have Willow," Natasha murmured. She was unsure what to do but she knew she needed to act fast. "I am going to drive her. Just call ahead and let them know we're coming."

Brandon nodded, already heading out the door. "Will do."

"I've got you," Natasha whispered as she carried you through the apartment. She held you tightly, her arms wrapped protectively around you.

"I'm sorry," You whimpered into her neck tiredly. You were in so much pain. The cramps were excruciating.

"It's not your fault, baby. None of this is your fault," Natasha reassured you, her voice filled with emotion.

"I'm sorry," You whispered again. It was all you could say.

"Shh, don't apologize," Natasha soothed. "You did nothing wrong."

Natasha managed to get you into her car without causing too much distress. Your clothes were soaked through with blood, but you didn't care. She just needed to get help.

***********

These kinds of things happen they say. There’s not always an answer. It’s crazy how just a few weeks ago you’d gotten a heartbeat. You’d been able to see your baby’s tiny little body on a screen and now nothing. You feel empty. Stepping back into your home, to no baby, no future.

It's like everything has changed. It's as if the color has faded and the world has lost its luster. Everything feels hollow. There's a deep emptiness inside of you.

"Let's get you to bed," Natasha murmured, her arms tight around you as she guided you to the bedroom. After spending three days in the hospital coming home felt weird. She'd asked Brandon to hire cleaners to come and tidy everything. She'd paid them a hefty amount to make sure no trace or memory of what happened that day was here.

You were quiet as Natasha helped you into bed, her hands gentle as she pulled the covers over you. You lay there, staring blankly at the wall, the ache in your chest only growing with each passing moment.

"Do you need anything?" She asked. Her voice was soft and soothing, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond.

You didn't deserve this. This is a punishment. A test. For what you can't say but that's the only explanation.

You hadn't spoken since before she brought you to the hospital. You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Natasha had been by your side the whole time, never leaving you alone. She'd held your hand, rubbed your back, and even sang softly to you. But nothing she did seemed to reach you. She felt hopeless.

She took one last look at you before she stood.

"I want the ultrasound picture," You requested quietly.

"Of course, love?" She searched your nightstand for it. It pained her to look at it too.

"And the little booties,"

Natasha handed you the photo and booties, watching as you cradled them close to your chest. She could see the tears welling in your eyes.

"Can I hold you?" She asked. You hadn't been open to her touch and comfort so it was a bit of a long shot.

You nodded, holding your arms out for her. She crawled into bed, curling up beside you. You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry, Nat," You began. "I'm sorry I lost our baby."

"Don't apologize, love," Natasha whispered. "This isn't your fault. These things just happen. There was nothing you could have done. I know how much you wanted this. How much we both wanted this." You could try again. That part was left unsaid. Only because she knows you and knew it wouldn't be comforting in the slightest.

"This is the second time," You furrowed your brows. "This was our second try. I did everything right. Right? I took all of my vitamins. I only exercised lightly." You were starting to ramble.

"You were perfect," Natasha reassured you. "You are perfect. This doesn't mean that it will never happen. There's still a chance."

"What if it doesn't happen?" You whispered. You swallowed thickly. "I don't think I want to try again. Please don't make me go through that again."

Natasha stroked your hair, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head. "Whatever you want, love. I'll support you."

"I'm not sure how to feel," You confessed. "I know I didn't act like it at times. I wanted this baby. I wanted him. He was mine. He was ours. We were so close to our dream."

"We were," Natasha agreed.

"Why is this so hard?" You cried, burying your face into her chest.

"I don't know, love," Natasha soothed, rubbing circles on your back.

"I wanted to welcome him into this world," You sobbed. "We won't get to do that. He won't get to experience anything. His heart was beating and then it stopped. Why? Why did it stop?"

"Shh," Natasha soothed. If she didn't calm you down soon you were going to become hysterical.

"He was a baby. A precious innocent little baby. We made a baby. We were pregnant," You cried, clinging to her. "Why does everything have to be so fucking hard? It's not fair."

"I know, baby. I know," Natasha whispered, stroking your hair. "It's okay. Let it out. Just let it out."

You couldn't stop crying. You sobbed and sobbed.

How could you ever be okay after this? A baby with Natasha was all you wanted. A family with your wife. His heartbeat was the most beautiful music you'd ever heard. And it's gone.

Your cries soon turn into soft whimpers and your whimpers turn into sniffles. The room is silent. Natasha continues to hold you, her arms tight around you.

our little family - a continuation

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natsxaddiction #redroomreflections #fluff and angst

120 notes · View notes

mercurygray · 28 days ago

Note

Ooooh, build-a-fic! How about "here, let’s get you warmed up" + contentment + the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there :)

I find it very, very funny that no less than three people gave me the dialogue prompt to warm up, and I think just that many gave the location prompt about bedsides.

I took the wild-card option on characters here as an excuse to do a little thought experiment - the threatened Vivian/Doctor Huston fic.

It's a bit whumpy.

---

It was the nightmares again.

Adam rolled over in bed and tried to control his breathing, focusing on the sloped, white ceiling of his room. It had been a while since he'd had one. He thought he'd been getting better. It was always the same dream, or similar - the siren announcing the need for ambulances on the airstrip, the thrumming wind from a still-beating engine, and then the orderlies were pulling everyone he'd ever loved from out of the plane in bits and bloody pieces, and the bodies never stopped at ten.

He closed his eyes, hand splayed over his heart like somehow the weight would slow down the muscle. Your name is Adam Huston. You're a doctor with the 8th Air Force. You're at Coombe House, in Dorset. You're here for a few weeks away from your unit, just like everyone else here. You are good at your job. You will try your hardest to make sure they all get well. You will try your best to make sure you get well.

Get well - a high order. Who was the doctor here, and who the patient? The line seemed indistinct sometimes. It'll be an easy posting, Adam. Observe and evaluate. They just need a little time away from it all - get a chance to get their feet back under them. If you see anything serious, you can mark it in the file. Big house, plenty of fresh air - and half a dozen pretty girls to keep you on your toes.

Pretty girls - offered like they'd stopped making them in England when the war started and the beauty of women were somehow also rationed. Francy, in charge of everyone, as well as Susan, Julia, Peggy, Caro, and Vivian - smiling, shaking hands, welcoming him in like they did to everyone who arrived here, the all-American girls from next door, if next door was an extremely selective women's college.

The last woman, Vivian, had looked a little pale next to the others, her lipstick somehow too bright for her face. "Everything all right?" he'd asked, duffel in one hand and raincoat in the other. The urge to reach out and take her pulse was tangible, and the fact that his hands were full was suddenly unsettling. He adjusted his grip on the suitcase instead.

"Just a little under the weather, is all." She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll be right as rain when it blows over. Can I show you upstairs to your room?"

Coombe House was a country estate, built for shooting weekends and house parties, with bedrooms and corridors that went for miles. The airmen were downstairs in the guest rooms, and the staff, along with the hostesses and him, were upstairs in the servants corridor, with sloping ceilings and threadbare runners in the hallway to deafen the noise. "Your own, of course," she'd said, opening the door for him and letting him step inside. “We couldn’t have our doctor bunking. Butler’s down at this end, and we’re at the other, with the maids. Just how it was before the war.” Somehow the sparseness of the room didn't bother him. It's only temporary, this place. She watched him set down his coat and duffel on the bed. "They've opened up a wall a little way down for a little kitchenette - a sink and a gas burner for tea or reheating a cup of soup. Sometimes we keep strange hours." He nodded in agreement, glanced out the window at the grounds below, taking in the garden, the hedges and the curve of the river, everything still green and growing. "I'll leave you to get settled then. Dinner's at seven - dress uniforms." And then with a brief smile she was gone.

He wandered through the house, getting a feel for the corridors and the rooms - the library, the games room, the sitting room filled with ping pong tables, the ballroom with its badminton nets. An office, too, white cabinets, a desk, and a chair across, so someone could sit. No lights, no exam chair - a consulting room. A file drawer, too, standing in the corner, full of other men's secrets.

He turned off the light and left that for another day.

The rhythm of the house took some getting used to, after months on the flight line. Breakfast was at 9 am, not six, and everyone slept in. There was no review of the ward, no supply stock take, no white coat and stethoscope...no late afternoon flight return to manage. He took walks, watched birds, tried to ride a horse. Mainly he talked to the men. Theirs were quick stays, six or seven days, long enough to watch them uncurl a little, unclench their jaws and slide their shoulders down from their ears. Easy enough to understand - how many men back in Norfolk with the 96th were just the same as they?

The hostesses, too, were easy to read - Peggy with her bicycle and her loud laugh, Susan with her easy knowledge of the whole library, leading her book group like she didn't know that it was her smile and her black curls that made them all come to talk about things they hadn't read. Francy, effortlessly in charge of everything, everyone's sister and everyone's friend. Always first names, with the girls, and never Miss, while the boys were Patterson and Johnson and Reed, last names and nicknames and inside jokes. And he was Doc, as though they'd always known him thus, stamped from the same plate as every other doctor on every other base, the kind and concerned uncle asking obliquely how they were doing, whether they'd gotten the game scores, how they were sleeping, whether the dream had come back.

But Vivian remained aloof, somehow. The ashen look from her first day retreated, but she was still different from the others, somehow set apart. He found out that she was from Massachusetts, that she had two siblings and a ginger cat. It felt like the others saw it, too - she was the older woman, somehow a better prize where attention was concerned. One night after dinner he caught her singing at the piano while Susan played - a children's song in French. She played tennis like a champion, danced beautifully, never got a man's rank wrong - but what she'd done before the war she never said.

Finally his curiosity got the better of him one afternoon, listening to Caro call for her twice before she answered, as though she didn't know her own name. The filing cabinet beckoned. He sat down and found the stack of medical records for the Red Cross.

He'd made good headway through the cabinet when the gong rang for dinner (After a week here, it still sounded silly to hear it) and he rushed upstairs to quickly change into his better uniform, comb his hair and make sure his tie was straight.

In the dining room he made a beeline for Vivian, smiling away the lieutenant she was talking to by clearing his throat and flashing his captain's bars. (The younger man took the hint, given in so many officer's clubs, and beat it.) "How are you feeling today?"

She didn't look pleased to be asked. "I told you I would be fine in a few days."

He stepped in, pitched his voice lower. "And are you expecting to recover from recurring malaria overnight, Lieutenant?" He pronounced the rank with special emphasis and watched her eyes flash in recognition. The Red Cross certainly didn't make them officers, but the Nurse Corps did - and Vivian Arsenault hadn't started her time with the Army passing out donuts and coffee in England. In fact, she hadn't started in England at all - and that was just the trouble with tropical climates, wasn't it - that they had different diseases there? Such a lot of trouble from such a little insect.

"You read my file." It was an accusation - almost a disappointment.

"I'm a doctor. I needed to know who I was working with. And I was wondering why you never seem to hear your name when anyone calls you. It's because you're still not expecting to hear it." He looked at her daring her to disagree - she didn't. Yes, First Lieutenant Arsenault, joined in '38, three years abroad in Manila, invalided out of the Nurse Corps in June of 1941 for recurrent malignant malaria. A lucky thing, since the Rock fell in January of 42 - if you thought about luck that way, anyway. "I expect this is quite the change from Fort Mills," he offered, glancing around the room.

"Not really," she replied. "Soldiers are soldiers. But you're right. I was Arsenault for so long that Vivian sounds wrong, or ...insubordinate." She sniffed. "Francy knows, but please don't tell the others. They know I'm a nurse, but not - not that."

"And as a nurse, I didn't think I'd have to tell you that you ought to be in bed if you're having an episode."

"I've told you," she said, fixing him with a look that would not be crossed or questioned, "I'm fine. It passes quicker if I'm busy."

"We're not going to win the war by you working yourself to death," he said, a little more strongly than he meant. "It's not the end of the world if someone doesn't have a tennis partner."

"But how will I feel if he goes down next week?" She looked at him with a grim smile. "They only have the time they have."

It was an argument he could see he was not going to win, and he let her move away, down the table to another group of soldiers. And what about you, he'd wanted to ask. What about your time? Somehow silence seemed wiser.

Days passed - men came and went. Outside the estate the war went on regardless. This being England, sunshine was cause for celebration, and a cloudless day practically cause for a parade. Huston opened the windows in his office to watch the men on the pond trying to tip their boats, and decided to try and squeeze in a walk before the day took a turn. He paused at the house’s great front door and considered his options, hands in pockets - the gardens? The lake? The stables?

He made his way to the back of the house, passing a few fellows on bicycles, one of the groundsmen with a dirty shovel, the kitchen maids putting out the rubbish bins for someone to move and collect. The bicyclists waved as he went by, but most everyone else out here ignored him, too caught up in the world of their own making. And that was fine by him. Responsibility sat differently outside - here he was neither doctor nor parent, only a fellow traveler, out to enjoy the air. The gravel of the house’s footpath opened up to the lawn, lined with trees that some pair of jokesters were making a contest out of trying to climb, egged on by a crowd, the tennis court, air filled with laughter, the rhythmic thwack of a tennis ball, going back and forth. Adam stood and watched the game for a minute, watching Vivian set and serve with the abandon of someone who did this far too often to be considered merely ‘good’.

And then a great crack, a cry of pain - the tree limb behind the tennis court had broken and sent its traveler down to earth. It was all instinct, what that sound woke in him- Adam picked up and ran.

It had been weeks since he’d treated a broken limb, felt like months since he’d seen blood - it didn’t matter. The measures of command came back like water. You’re a doctor in the 8th Air Force, and you’re good at your job. “Easy there, Carl, easy does it. I’ve got you. Sit up with me now, you’ve had a bit of a shock. Can someone run back to the house for Francy? We’ll get you inside in a minute, Carl, just sit and catch your breath. That’s just the adrenaline kicking in. Can you move your fingers for me? Good. Stand up, easy now, there’s a good chap, we’ll wait just a moment here…”

Suddenly there was Vivian in her tennis whites, murmuring something about helping, about not needing Francy, and the two of them took Carl inside to the consulting room and Vivian went for bandages and alcohol and Francy turned up regardless to manage the curious crowd outside the door.

Palpate, clean, numb, set, bandage. All the same steps in the same cadence, just the same as he’d been doing for years. And at every movement there she was - swab, syringe, bandage. It would keep Carl Nolan off the flight roster for a few weeks, but he’d manage. Young men always did. He looked up from tying off the bandage and saw that Vivian was watching him closely, her expression hard to read.

He finished setting his instruments back on his tray and rose from his chair to go and wash his hands. “That was good work,” he said, as blandly as he could. She wasn’t the type who took a compliment easily, and if you were too effusive, he’d observed, she’d assume you were lying. (Had she learned that in the Army, at officer’s club dances and the tennis court? Or was it before then, back home in Haverhill? He had such a lot of questions for her and he didn’t think she’d ever answer one.)

“And you.”

He bit back a smile over the washbasin and turned back to look at her. “You sound surprised.”

Was that a smile? But just as quickly as it had appeared it fled. “Maybe I am,” she replied, leaving to change her clothes or return to her game, he didn’t know which. He snorted and set it aside. It had been good work, small though the service might have been. An arm broken falling out of a tree wasn’t an arm broken on a bombing run getting thrown against a wall while your pilot dove to avoid a flak field - injured, rather than wounded. Still, it was good to feel useful - some days he felt like he was hardly doing anything at all.

The end of one crop of soldiers meant the arrival of another - Adam watched the hostesses dash outside in the mornings to make introductions as the van rolled up, letting out another group of airmen all with that slightly dazed look in their eyes, glancing up at the house’s grand facade like they still weren’t sure this was real. Three…four…five. Five.

He stepped out into the hallway, counting shadows on the drive outside again. Five. Hm.

Adam retreated back to his office as Francy brought the new group inside and showed them the stairs and the door to her office, the lavatory on this floor and the way they could get to the dining room, and waited until the coast was clear before opening his door. "Hey, Francy.” She stopped, clipboard in hand. “Where's Vivian?"

"She's upstairs," Francy said, extremely unconcerned in a way that Adam found hard to interpret. Was she being calm for the benefit of the airmen, or was there really no cause for alarm? But then, perhaps she didn't know about the malaria, and thought only that Vivian was the kind of person who got a stuffy nose a little more often than most. "It's just a cold. She said she'd be down tomorrow."

Adam nodded and tried to follow Francy's calm, wondering if he ought to cross to the women's side of the house and check the room under the eaves with ‘Vivian’ chalked on the door. She won’t want that, he told himself. She’s a grown woman - she knows herself. You can give her that respect. It’s a cold - nothing more.

Day came, and day went - and still no Vivian. Susan left a tray at her door, but no one saw her take it in.

It wasn’t a cold that woke him up the following night - and it wasn’t one of his nightmares, either. He rolled over in bed, wondering what it was that had roused him, and heard a clatter in the kitchenette down the hall, a low moan. Adam blinked in the dark, swinging his legs over the side of the bed searching for his slippers and fumbling for his dressing gown, belting it against the nighttime chill. (It was always cold here, under the eaves. Warm air was supposed to rise but somehow it never seemed to reach their rooms.)

His eyes adjusted to the relative dark, moonlight peeking in from the window at the end of the corridor, and made his way down the hall, somehow already knowing who and what he’d find.

There was Vivian, yellowed out and chattering, wrapped in her bathrobe with her blanket around her shoulders and her hand feverishly knocking against the counter, looking at the spilled kettle on the floor with bleary eyes. A deflated hot water bottle sat on the sideboard, waiting to be filled. How hard had it been for her to find the kettle and fill it in the dark, when her hands were as bad as they were?

"Jesus, Vivian.” In two moments he was next to her, picking up the kettle and its lid and setting them on the sideboard, grabbing a towel from the rack to mop up the floor. “Why didn't you say anything?”

"Don't send me home." Her voice struggled through chattering teeth. "I don't want to go home."

"No one's sending you home, I just want you to be warm." It was the most honest he'd been all day. “You're shaking. Let's get you back to bed."

“I have work to do.”

“Yes, you do,” he agreed wholeheartedly, steadying her back down the hall to her room. “And so do I.” It was all too easy to steer her back down the hall, back into her bed and to tuck the covers around her. “You’re going to stay in this bed until that water boils, and I will bring the hot water bottle back to you,” he said, in a tone that said he would not be taking no for an answer here. “There’s no sense in the two of us freezing here.”

How long it was, to wait in the dim light of the kitchen impatiently anxious for the kettle. She’d been left for the last 48 hours, but who was to say it hadn’t started sooner? Without antimalarials she needed the shivers to come down as soon as possible, or there was a risk of febrile -

He darted back to his room for aspirin and came back just as the kettle was starting to boil.

“Take these,” he ordered, handing her the tablets and a glass of water, the now full bottle under his arm. She palmed the pills and drained the glass, teeth still chattering. “And then let’s get you warmed up.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, as he tucked the now-hot bottle in between her and her blankets, and then left his slippers at the side of the bed and slipped in between the sheets with her.

“Making sure you stay in this bed and sleep,” he said, as if this were the most normal thing in the world, to climb into a woman’s bed. (No one could complain - she was still in her dressing gown and he was still in his.)

“I’ll be warmer than a hot water bottle, in this icebox.”

Her body felt strange next to his own, hot and cold all at once, and there was the familiar urge to do what one did with a woman in bed, wrap your arms around her and pull her closer than law and manners would allow. But that was for another time and another place. You need care just like any of those men downstairs do - but it’s not your arm that’s broken, Vivian Arsenault, and you don’t need someone to talk to. And I care, even if you don’t want me to, even if you want the world to think you don’t need caring. A little distance was required - but not much. His arm was loose around her body, outside the folds of her bathrobe.

He thought she’d make more noise about it, but nothing came. “And here I thought you might protest a little more, Lieutenant.”

A pause. “You’re the only one who read the files,” she managed, quietly. “ All of the others were too worn through to care.” Another pause. “And If you were really going to try something you’d have done it by now. First week, maybe. First night.” She hugged the hot water bottle closer. “You saw I was sick and asked if I was feeling alright.” Another pause, longer this time. “And I don’t…mind it so much, from you.”

Something in him was in freefall. I feel…something for you, Vivian Arsenault, and I thought for a while it was simple fascination but I think it’s more than that. “I may kiss you,” he warned, perfectly serious about it. Make me useful to you, Vivian.

“I may let you,” came the reply, gently tucking her body closer to his. Her hand closed around his and he shut his eyes feeling finally content, knowing that tonight, at least, there would be no dreams except of her.

#asked and answered #catbusloki #i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #vivian arsenault #huston x oc #yes this is maybe trash but it's my trash

43 notes · View notes