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#it was worth gently crisping most of me
places I forgot sunscreen:
-the back of my neck
-the tops of my feet
places I got sunburned
-trick question, everywhere, when you sit out in the sun for 3-4 hours the sunscreen wears off. a racket.
-my feet and neck are the worst tho.
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spicerackofblorbos · 2 months
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-> link to event and masterlist
My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski
Satoru Gojo x gn!Reader
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My baby, here on Earth Showed me what my heart was worth. So, when it comes to my turn Could you shine it down on here for her?
☾ content/warnings ➼ angst, mc death, funeral, loss, a grieving gojo lkjgjfkhjh
☾ wc ➼ ~500
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Is this death?
You find it silly to ask. Anyone who has died wouldn’t know that they died.
You conclude that you most certainly had to be dead. How else would you be able to look down on the man you love as if you were the moon, and he was still stuck on Earth.
Satoru Gojo sits alone on the steps of the funeral home he just exited. Idle hushed chatter fills the crisp air around the parking lot in front of him, ranging from somber condolences to evening plans with each other.
How sick it is of them, to make plans like they didn’t just see your colorless body lying in a black casket just mere moments ago. Those cheeks he loved to kiss softly, no longer warm. You looked as if you were asleep, despite it all. Oh how he wishes it was just a deep slumber.
Not a single person came up to Satoru.
Whether it be the cold aura that radiates from him, or the fact that you were Satoru’s married partner, everyone in attendance had no idea what to say to the bereft man. Despite the dark evening, his even darker sunglasses cover his red-rimmed eyes, his face pointed down as his long fingers tangle into his white locks, connected to the elbow that digs into the flesh of his thigh.
How sick.
How sick it is that you were gone and he was here, forced fight another day.
“Gojo.” A deep voice calls from behind, followed by the crunch of loose gravel with every step.
Satoru doesn’t move.
“Gojo. Let’s go.” Kento Nanami places his hand on the white-haired man’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.
He stands up quietly, keeping his head bowed as he follows his friend and colleague. His mind is a numb mess, unable to think past the direct orders he tells his body.
Right foot, left foot, breathe, right foot, left foot, breathe. On and on this went until he arrives to the passenger side of Kento’s car.
As if teleported, he soon finds himself slowly walking up the steps  to home you both used to share. He could swear he heard your laugh, a phantom noise coming from the rustling of trees above.
The only thing Satoru can do is change into comfortable clothes, still smelling of your soft skin. Food be damned, he’d rather wither away.
Stepping out onto the small balcony, he sees the wilted plants in the garden that you tried so hard to keep alive. You were so incredibly stubborn, and Satoru didn’t want to fight you because of how endearing it was so see your nose flare.
With long fingers, he runs them through his hair as leans forward onto the balcony rail, forearm pressed against the cold metal.
It really was a beautiful night, and he’d be remiss if he didn’t appreciate it (he can hear you reprimanding him for not taking in the moment). His crystal blue eyes, covered by his sunglasses still, trail up to the moon. Somehow a wave of comfort finds him, fleeting, but present all the same.
Perhaps you were still here.
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thebestofoneshots · 5 months
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: ANGST! Prompt: Vixen tries to survive in the snow while Remus desperatly tries to find her. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
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Chapter 46: Comfortably Numb
Well, hold on, my darling This mess was yours Now your mess is mine
You had woken up hastily after seeing Nina, your eyes snapping open in hopes she really was there, but there was no one, just more snow, gently falling on top of the white layer already covering most of the fields. Your eyes started to close again until you felt something on your nose, you opened your eyes only to see a blue butterfly. 
But here? In the snow? You wondered as you saw its wings bat desperate, tired, and cold. You could feel the crisp taping of paper-like, frozen delicate things against your cheek and lashes, urging you to open your eyes back up, to wake up and fight. 
You moved your hand towards your face and the butterfly gingerly jumped to your finger, “You must be cold,” you whispered. You felt cold too, although it wasn’t as cold as before. In truth you were so tired and numb, you barely registered how cold it was until you felt her wings flapping against your cheeks. 
“If I had my wand I could make us a fire,” you said, “but that was taken away from me, to help someone who helped me get here… You can stay by me if you want…” you added as you let your hand fall on your lap carefully. The small butterfly flapped their wings again, desperate to get your attention. 
“Not warm enough, is it?” You asked and sighed. “I’ll try to get us there then,” you said as you pointed at the shack, you knew it would be warm. It was hard to get up, the stunning spell and how tired you were at this point had taken a toll on you. Your movements were strained and languid, it took you a full minute to stand. The butterfly kept flying around you, desperate. You extended your hand to help and she flew towards your shoulder, sitting just over the sleeve of your dress. 
Oh right, you were only wearing a dress, perhaps that was the reason it was so cold. You managed to walk all the way to the door, with a slow and steady pace, but once you reached, the door wouldn’t budge. It was firmly closed, and you didn’t have your wand to pry it open, you didn’t even have the penknife you had made for Sirius. You leaned your back against the doorframe, you felt so tired. 
“Looks like we’re staying out here, Blue,” you said as you looked at the butterfly, who flew rapidly towards your face in response. You sighed, “You wouldn’t make it, would you?” you asked and pushed yourself off the door, searching for another way in. That’s when you spotted one of the crossed-out windows. Perhaps if I try hard enough…
You used the walls to step down from the stairs and walked towards the window. It was covered with wood, but one of the slabs seemed at least slightly rotten, so you grabbed that one, ignoring the splinters digging into your palms and pulled. 
Nothing happened. You frowned, took a deep breath and pulled again. There was a creaking sound, but the wood was still firmly glued to the side panels of the window. You nodded, hyping yourself up as you tried again. One, two, three, PULL! 
The piece of wood came along with you as you stumbled back a good few steps. You looked at it and smiled, throwing the wood on the floor and leaning against the window. It was still as messy as you remembered, but the clouding against the window meant it was warm. You grabbed a fist full of the flowy fabric of your dress and punched on the window, you felt it shatter as your fist went through the crystal. When you pulled your hand back you allowed your dress and the tiny shards of glass to fall onto the snow. 
You turned around and pushed your hand towards the butterfly. She placed herself in the middle of your palm and you carefully brought her inside. She seemed even more active once inside the warmer climate and you smiled. At least you could save a butterfly. 
You swallowed again and tried to pull the wood slab just over the one you had managed to rip out earlier but it was useless, the wood wasn’t as putrid as the other one, and it was firmly nailed onto the window. You huffed and tried again, but the result was the same. The butterfly seemed to be flying desperately as it watched you struggle.  You sighed after trying one more time and allowed yourself to fall on the floor, your eyes closed when you felt the flapping of the wings against your cheeks again.
“What are you doing here?” you asked as you stared at it. “Go back inside, it’s warm, you’ll diе out here.” 
The butterfly stubbornly flew around you. It couldn’t talk, but if it did, you’d imagine it would be telling you the same thing you were trying to tell it. You sighed and stood up, helping her back inside. “I’ll find safety,” you promised as you looked at her. “But you need to stay inside.” 
The butterfly refused. You carefully hurled her back inside. It wasn’t easy but you were gentle enough not to hurt her. Once she was inside you dug down and grabbed some snow, attempting to close the hole you’d made with it. You dragged the snow from the sides of the sill and pressed them against the opened area, ignoring the sharp pain when a shard of glass dug into the side of your palm. Or perhaps it was more than one, your hand was too numb to feel it all. 
Once you made sure the butterfly wouldn’t be able to follow, you took a deep breath and focused on the snow. You used a similar spell to the one you had used on the snow fight, but rather than a projectile, you used the same type of magic to make sure the snow wouldn’t melt for a while. The butterfly was fluttering madly inside, as if desperate to come back out. 
“It’s all right,” you reassured, “I’ll find a way to safety, I promise.” You smiled faintly and then turned around. If you couldn’t get inside the shack, then the closest way to safety was through the forest. You weren’t scared, you knew the most dangerous thing that roamed it already, and he wasn’t around tonight. 
You looked up at the sky, the stars were impossibly bright, and the moon was waning. The path towards the forest was dark, but illuminated enough for you to see your way. You took in a deep cold breath and decided that if you’d have to get to the castle either way, you might as well do it now. 
The snow was hard and freezing, your feet hurt as you tried to raise them so you were pretty much dragging them through the thick and cold snow. With no shoes, they felt colder than ever, you could barely feel them at this point, but you kept walking. 
You fell more than once, but the ghost memory of the Blue flapping her wings against your cheeks got you to stand again. To keep walking, to keep fighting. But the castle seemed so far away, and the cold snow appeared as a welcoming blanket every time you stumbled onto it again. It was tempting, awfully tempting to just allow yourself to fall on it, to let it slowly drape over you and to become numb, not only your body, but your mind as well. 
When would they find you if you did? In a week when they realised you were gone? In a month when other animals dug you out of the snow desperate for something to eat? In months? After the weather grew warm and the insects had made your skin their home. You wished you could shudder at the sombre thoughts, but the snow still looked beguiling. 
Perhaps she would wash away your thoughts, perhaps she’d get rid of the pain inside like she had done with the one outside. The soft, white blanket, ready to wrap itself around you until you were completely swallowed by it, until you were one with it, and nothing more. 
But the memory of the butterfly got you up again, you’d have to go back to help her out, if you stayed in the snow, then she would stay in the shack, and the two of you would be nothing more than a memory. 
Remus had run to the Whomping Willow the second he pocketed the mirror. He didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was going out at night, he didn’t sneak out, he didn’t care if he got detention, he didn’t care if he got expelled. Not after what Sirius had told him. Not after hearing how you were sitting on the snow, with your eyes closing and with the same cold he felt, so heavy around him. The snow was falling so hard he couldn’t see more than a few metres ahead, and he was scared. 
No, Remus was terrified, as terrified as he had been that night you’d discovered he was a Werewolf, as terrified as he was when he saw you fall from your broom back at the game, as terrified as that night you insisted on turning into Vixen alongside the rest of the Marauders to be with Moony.
He had been terrified of losing you then, and he was hysterical over feeling the exact same way now. He sprinted towards the tree, not thinking twice if he would get hit by one of its branches as he ducked and jumped to get to the hole. He slid down and ran, so fast his legs cried for him to stop, his heart drumming in his ears and his breath short. It took some time, but when he finally made it, when he found the door, he busted it open and walked inside. He didn’t waste time, walking towards the entrance and using his wand to open the door. 
“Sirius said you’d be there,” he whispered as he looked at the empty fence. The snow had already covered your tracks, but he could smell the same urgent, scared and terrified scent of you he was already familiar with. He looked around and spotted the wood slab you had ripped from the window. He could smell bIood on it and he cringed, taking it in his hands only to spot small droplets of it over the sides. He winced at the thought of you hurting yourself and then dropped the wood and looked around again. The snow, being so thick, had easily erased your steps, but even if he couldn’t see, he could smell. 
His senses weren’t as keen as they were close to the moon, he wasn’t as good at tracking as Moony was, but if there was a time to take advantage of his abilities, it was now. He closed his eyes and focused on you. It was hard at first, the snow was thick and cold and his nose was freezing, but he managed to spot you, a trace of you. When he opened his eyes again, they were way more golden than normal, and he sprinted towards the source of the smell. He ran, ignoring the snow that had slipped inside his Converse, ignoring the complaints of his bones. The moon had been only days ago and he was still rather sore, but he ran.
By the time he spotted a faint dark dot in the distance, he was already panting, but he pushed through and sprinted all the way to you. By the time he reached you, you were kneeling on the floor, slow breaths and looking up, attempting to stand again. He kneeled in front of you and took you a minute to really see him, thinking for a moment it was just another game your mind was playing on you. 
“Rem?” you asked, voice cracked and barely a whisper. 
“Merlin, you’re all right,” he said as he dragged you towards him. You weren’t all right. You felt as cold as the place surrounding you. Remus panicked as he held you close to him. And he took off the coat he was wearing to wrap it around you. 
“No, it’s cold, you use it,” you slurred as you shivered. Remus gave you a sympathetic look. 
“I’m going to carry you, I think I can apparate you back in the Shack,” he explained. 
“It’s closed, can’t open it…” you said as you shook your head, not quite thinking. “Must get to the castle, it’s safe,” you said, you had told yourself that over and over again as you walked, you were merely repeating it now. Not even thinking Remus could probably crank the door open if he wanted to.
“You don’t have your wand?” he said as he pulled you up from the floor and slung one of your arms around his shoulder. You shook your head in response. “I’m going to pick you up now,” he added as he passed his arm under your legs and pulled you up with ease. “I have my wand,” he added reassuringly, handing it over to you, he knew it would make you feel better.  
And then he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and concentrating on the Shack. The shape of the walls, the window covered by wooden slabs, the run-down chimney and the scuffed floors, once the image was neat enough, he followed Dumbledore’s instructions, the world dissolved around him only for him to appear in the shack. The first thing he did was let you down on the floor carefully and make sure he hadn’t accidentally splinched you. 
“You alright? Anything hurts?” He asked as he placed his hands on your face to check on you. They were warm and kind, incredibly reassuring to your still-fuzzy mind. You couldn’t have been dreaming that, could you? 
You focused your gaze on his, still rather dazed and shook your head. He placed his hand over yours and took hold of the wand, closing the door with a short wave of it and then turning the fire to help the room heat up slowly. 
He took a look at you, your skin was dull with the cold, the colour fading and stale. Remus carried you again and dragged you towards the room, the torn sheets from a few nights back were still on the bed and he sat you there slowly. He asked you a few questions, and you responded automatically, too numb to think properly. 
“Luv, you’re not even listening to me,” he complained as he pulled your face into your hands. You blinked and tried to focus on him again. 
“Sorry,” you mustered. 
He sighed. “Listen, I’m going to give you my jumper, and then I’ll check your hands up. We need to warm you up slowly, okay?” 
“It is cold,” you responded as your teeth clung together. 
Remus took off his jumper and helped you put it on top of your dress. The dress was cold, but he used a spell to have it warm up slowly as he laid you on the bed. “Is it better?” 
You nodded, jaw still quivering from the cold. Remus took a short breath and pulled your hands towards his. Some of the splinters of wood were still stuck in your hand and he was careful as he started to remove them. Your hands were cold and he could see small –now melting– crystals of bIood attached to certain sections of your palm.  When he was done, he used a spell to aid the healing process, your hands had just started to get their warmth back when he heard a heavy breath coming from you. 
You had fallen asleep. Peaceful, but still shivering. He frowned and pulled the mirror from his pocket. Sirius, taking the wand from the bed and using it to send to shine a light, Sirius instantly peaked his head on the other side. 
“How is she? Is she okay?” Sirius mouthed desperately. 
Remus smiled and nodded, showing him your sleeping figure. “She’s cold,” he explained. “I’m trying to warm her up.” 
“Hug her!” Sirius said instantly. “Cuddle her! You’re always warm!” Remus gave him a questioning look. “You always cuddle her, it’s no different.” 
It was very different. Remus had never cuddled you without Sirius in the bed too. James beside Sirius nodded supportingly. He didn’t see the issue, he’d cuddle you if it was necessary. Of course, James saw you as a friend and nothing more. 
Remus nodded and left the mirror on the table, promising the boys he’ll talk to them later, with the radio to explain it all better. Then he leaned onto the edge of the bed. “Little Witch,” he called softly. 
You didn’t react, eyes still closed and breathing slow. He placed a hand on your face, it was warmer, but still colder than it should be. He played with a bit of your hair and placed it behind your ear, allowing his fingers to brush over your face, “Little Witch,” he called again. 
You were beautiful, even in the cold, even with the shivers, Remus thought you looked stunning. He wondered how you must have looked when you stepped into that party, with your hair perfectly arranged and your makeup freshly done, definitely a sight to behold. And then he sighed, here he was ogling at you while his best friend –your boyfriend– was at home, worried for his girlfriend. Asking him to cuddle you, and yet he felt doing so would be akin to betrayal, just because of how much he liked you. 
“Little Witch,” he said again, this time you hummed, your eyes opening slightly, unfocused. “I think I should cuddle you to warm you up faster, is that okay?” 
“It is always okay for you to cuddle me,” you responded, not quite thinking, and closing your eyes again before you noticed the blush on Remus’ cheeks. You couldn’t have meant that, or perhaps you did, in which case you really thought of him as your closest friend, which in turn, made him feel even worse. 
Remus carefully climbed onto the bed and under the covers. He was on the side, and hesitated a little before leaning in to cuddle you. Most of the time, it was you and Sirius that leaned into him, not the other way around. He never wanted to seem invasive, and he really only moved you around when you were Vixen. It was easier to think of the two of you as different entities instead of the same.
But you leaned back to him almost instantly, allowing your head to rest on one of his arms and pulling the other one around you. You seemed a lot more comfortable, the shivering reducing significantly. It took a minute for Remus to untense, but eventually, he relaxed on to you, even daring to bring you closer as he rubbed his hand over your clothed arm to try and warm you up faster with the friction. Eventually, he too fell asleep. 
When he opened his eyes again, you weren’t there. He stood up in an instant, terrified you had been a dream, that he hadn’t found you in the snow and that for some twisted reason, you were still out there freezing. But then he spotted the silhouette of a shadow, and he looked ahead. Crouched, looking impossibly small, you sat next to the fire, using a poker to liven up the flames, arm wrapped around your legs and using both his jumper and his coat to warm yourself up. He couldn’t see your face, but the way you were breathing… it looked like you had been crying. 
He pulled the covers off of him and dragged them alongside himself as he sat next to you. He didn’t make a sound as he placed the covers around the two of you, and he hesitated before placing his hand on your forehead, then allowing it to slide down your cheek, and letting his thumb brush under your chin. You were a lot warmer now.
You didn’t react, you allowed him to touch you as you continued to stare at the fire. The dancing flames reflecting onto your glassy eyes. 
Your temperature had risen, the cold was no longer clouding your mind, and you had struggled to hold back the tears for at least half an hour before you decided to step out of bed, hoping not to wake Remus up with your sobs. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, not after what you’d done, after what you’d caused. You didn’t deserve to cry.
“Little Witch?” Remus asked, tilting his head to the side when you attempted to blink back some tears. 
You swallowed thickly, did you even deserve such an endearing nickname? 
“Hey,” he leaned a little closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, you avoided his gaze, how interesting did the dancing flames seem, with their hues of yellow, red and bright white, with the sparkling bits floating off until they disappeared, with the ash of the wood piling at the bottom. It clearly hadn’t been cleared in a while. 
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
“Love, whatever happened, I won’t judge you, you know that, right?” 
It was as if he had guessed your thoughts, Remus had always been incredibly perceptive, you sometimes underestimated just how much. But Remus understood, he understood exactly what you were feeling because he had played the scenario where he accidentally hurt those he loved over and over again in his brain for years. 
And while he didn’t know much, Sirius did tell him about the fire and about your mother’s passing.
He was looking at you with such a kind-hearted look, trusting and kind. Like he would give you the world if you asked –he would– and you couldn’t help but break. You disliked being vulnerable, you hated having to show said vulnerability, but with Remus looking at you like that, with the night you’d had, perhaps allowing yourself to cry in front of your best friend wouldn’t be so bad. You knew Remus wouldn’t judge you, at least not for crying. 
“Love?” he asked, you sobbed. Your face slowly scrunching up as you sniffed. It was hard to breathe as you opened your mouth to take in some air and then you sobbed again. 
“I kiIled them,” you said, barely managing to open your eyes to look at Remus straight in the face. You wanted to see his reaction, half expecting him to pull back, to look at you in disgust, to recoil from you and to leave you crying alone in the room. A part of you wanted that, the part that wanted to cry and break everything, the one that needed to be alone. 
But Remus didn’t do any of those things, instead, he opened his arms and wrapped them around you, bringing you closer to him, “I don’t care,” he said honestly. 
You sobbed, and pulled back to look at him, “I kiIIed them, Remus!” you repeated, louder now. “My mum and Nina, they’re both dеad because of me!” 
You felt Remus’ breath slow down as he tightened his arms around you and dragged you back into the hug. He didn’t know about Nina. “Did you want to kiIl them?” he asked simply. He wouldn’t have pushed you away even if you had.
“No,” you said in a whisper. 
“Then it was an accident.” 
You sniffed, trying to push him off, but he tightened his grip around you, not allowing you to snap out of his embrace. “But I still caused their dеaths! I’m a murderer!” 
“I don’t care,” he repeated as he pushed you even closer to him. “I wouldn’t even care if you had done it on purpose, that would just mean they gave you a reason.” You sobbed, allowing the tears to slide down your cheeks, wetting the soft cotton shirt he wore. You didn’t realise it then, but it was the Sex Pistols shirt you had sent him as a gift. 
“You don’t have to tell me what happened, you don’t need to tell me anything at all,” he said softly as he brushed his hand on your back and pulled you even closer, so close you ended up sitting on his lap as you leaned into him and cried. “But I’m here, darling. I’m here and you can cry with me all you need.” 
You had no idea how comforting it could be to cry with someone, you had always done it alone. But Remus was soft and reassuring, whispering calming words into your ears as he continued to brush his hands on you. Over your back, on your head, almost like he did when you were Vixen, but with more purpose now, it wasn’t about making Vixen get the smell of the pack, it wasn’t about making her warm, it was about making you warm. 
He was hugging you consciously,  brushing his hands over your body in an attempt to make you feel solace, and while his touch didn’t have the amnesiac ability the Lethe offered –and that you might have gladly drunk that night– he did offer a comfort like you hadn’t experienced in your life. Crying into Remus’ arms was like crying in a bed of soft, feathery clouds. Like the angels had come down to earth to commiserate you and absolve you of your wrongdoings. 
It was also comforting to know that no matter what, you had someone on your side. You had lost your father that night, you had kiIled your mother and your friend had diеd trying to protect you, even though Barty and Evan helped you escape, you had never felt so immeasurably lonely as you had while you tried to help that small butterfly, or when you had walked towards the castle, your feet on the cold snow feeling number as the minutes passed by. 
And then you ended up with Remus, hugging you and whispering how things would be all right, how Sirius and James had been worried and how happy they had been when he showed them you were all right. That no matter what you did, he wouldn’t leave, that Sirius wouldn’t leave and that your friends would be there for you. That you were part of them, and not even dеath herself could change that. 
You cried in your best friend’s arms until you ran out of tears. You told him in between sobs what had happened, and he had patiently listened to your rambling as he continued to hold you. He would tighten his grip when your breath ran short and your tears grew thick. Only to let it loose and look at your face when you relaxed into him again. He was warm, the cold you had felt initially almost completely forgotten in his embrace. 
“Thank you,” you whispered after a while, after telling him everything that had happened and after realising that, even then, he wouldn’t leave. 
“There’s nothing to thank me for, my love,” he said and dragged you closer to him. If anything, it should be him the one thanking you, for letting yourself be vulnerable in front of him, for trusting him enough to let him hold you and to cry into his arms. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, because holding you so tight shouldn’t make him feel as satisfied as he did, not when the reason he held you was how desperate and sad you were. 
And he felt your anguish, and he felt your pain, but that didn’t stop that small, touch-starved part of him from loving the fact that it was him the one that got to comfort you. That you clung to him for dear life, not to Sirius, not to anyone else.  
It was when your breath finally steadiеd that he realised you had fallen asleep again. He smiled and brought you back onto the bed. Cleaning the remaining salty water from your cheeks as he brushed your hair and accommodated you again. Your eyes were slightly swollen, you certainly looked like you had been crying, but he was sure Sirius would still be worried. 
He called him through the mirror again, he wrote a short note, telling him about you waking up and about being very upset, that you had been the one to cause the Fiendfyre and that you were very tired. That you were finally warmer and that he’d see if it was possible to call him later when you both went back to the castle.  
Sirius was a lot more relaxed now, especially when he saw Remus lying next to you in the bed. You had cuddled against the boy in the same way you cuddled to Sirius sometimes. He thought it was endearing, even if you were hugging someone else. It made him a lot more relaxed to think you weren’t alone, he had been alone many times. And you were with Remus, big strong and calm Remus, everything would be all right. 
By the time you woke up again, there was light filtering through the slab-covered windows. Beams of bright yellow reflected onto the worn-out floors, you looked at it for a minute, enjoying the warmth and almost pushing yourself back against the firm figure behind you. It was comfortable, peaceful, and reassuring, you realised there was an arm around you as well, keeping you close to them and to their warmth. 
You looked at the spores floating in the light beams, dusty, you thought as you stared, it took you a moment to really gather where you were, who you were with and how you’d ended up there. You had slept, you had slept a lot and yet you felt tired. The toll of the previous night, the weight of your now dried tears, still heavy in your mind. 
Did you want to cry again? Did you even deserve to?
What else could you do if not that? 
“You’re awake?” Remus’ groggy voice asked from behind as he brushed a piece of hair off your face, immeasurably soft and tender. 
“I was trying to convince myself it all had been a nightmare,” you replied with a sad, breathy laugh. 
Remus shook his head, “You’re in a better mood, I see.” 
“At least I’m not out there freezing anymore…” There was a bit of silence, and then your brain started working again. 
Wait a minute… how did he find you? 
You turned around hastily, Remus almost pulled back from how close your face was to his now, but he stayed where he was, he didn’t want to push you away by making any harsh movements. 
“How did you… How did you know I needed help?” 
“Sirius,” Remus admitted. You frowned, it still made no sense. Remus looked at you and then down at your neck, he could see the map charm hanging inside the necklace Sirius had given you. He picked it up and carefully rubbed his thumb over the original charm, “I think it has to do with this.” 
You looked at his hands with a frown, the charm looked much smaller in his hands than it did in yours, “The necklace from El Maleficio?” 
“I suppose Sirius never got around to telling you?” You gave him a confused look in response. “He’s got a burn on his hand, the moment he touched it, something happened, the man in the store said it was connected to him now, he assumed it was some sort of bIood magic or something.” You listened to him attentively as he continued, “he had an awful nightmare, he was seeing everything from your point of view.” 
You swallowed, “So… he knows everything…” you said, there was a horrified expression on your face, as if Sirius knowing would be the end of your relationship. 
“He asked me to get you after he saw Barty use the stunning spell,” Remus added. “He was worried.” 
“Worried? Not angry not–” 
Remus shook his head, knowing exactly what you meant. “You couldn’t get rid of us even if you went all Grindelwald, Little Witch.” 
“Merlin, I’d hope you would get rid of me if I went all Grindelwald,” you replied almost instantly. Still, the sentiment was nice, to know that you’d have them on your side, both Remus and Sirius, no matter what. You were lucky to have a boyfriend and a best friend like that. 
“Maybe lock you up in a cage until you reassessed your choices,” Remus joked as he turned to look at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to just stare into your eyes like he had been doing much longer without leaning in to kiss you. Oh, how he craved your lips sometimes. You shoved him lightly on the side and he made a rather exaggerated sound of pain. 
“Drama queen,” you said as you shoved him again. He shook his head and laughed, now you too turned to look at the ceiling. It was as worn as the floor, some of the paint peeling, some of it scratched and broken. You assumed that it had been Moony. 
There was a comfortable silence surrounding the two of you. You were warm as you lay close to him, but more than that, you felt safe. As if, now that you were with Remus, there was no danger, nothing could touch you in the small bubble inside the Shrieking Shack. You weren’t sure you wanted to step out, to face the real world. 
Would there be consequences? Would you be criminally charged? Could they even criminally charge you with all the things you had seen them do? 
“Sirius will probably want to speak to you,” Remus said. “I got him a radio for Christmas, there’s another one in our room, and we also use the mirror to see each other.” 
“You made holoprojectors? Like in Star Wars?” you asked curiously, turning your face to look at Remus’.
“Kind of,” he replied. “It’s not exactly the same, we don’t have holographic projections of each other but–” 
“–I bet you could do it!” you interrupted, “there’s bound to be a way in which you can use magic to make holoprojectors happen… at least until science catches up.” 
Remus knew what you were doing, you were completely avoiding the topic of last night, leaving it in the back of your mind, trying to ignore it. If you didn’t pay attention to it then, it couldn’t have been real. 
He wasn’t sure if he should let you, you had cried so much earlier, and while he loved to be the one to hold you, that didn’t stop the pressure in his chest as he saw you struggle. He didn’t want you to cry because it pained him to see you like that. 
“I assume we could,” he conceded. Perhaps he could let you ignore it for a little longer, for as long as you needed. You probably still had to process all of it. And there was a lot to process. You had told him everything, from the start of the night to the end of it, albeit in between sobs and sniffles, he had a pretty strong picture of all of it, perhaps stronger than Sirius’ who had lived part of it alongside you. 
After all, he had heard your feelings, not just seen what had happened. He knew what Evan and Barty had done for you, which had been perhaps the most surprising thing of the night, the fact that either of them had some sense of debt and that Evan felt he owed you something for not telling the truth to his father, which had just been basic human decency. 
“Do you want to go back to the castle?” he asked. 
“No,” you said honestly and pulled the raggedy covers over your head, they still kind of smelled like Padfoot, Vixen and Moony, that too was comforting. 
“You want some chocolate?” he asked. 
You peeked your head from the covers to look at him, your nose still covered but your eyes wide open and looking straight at him as you nodded. 
“You’re hungry, then?” 
You sighed and nodded. You weren’t sure you were in the mood to eat, but the rumbling in your stomach said otherwise. The toll of magic used the previous night was finally hitting you, and as your body worked to fill you with magic again, the used-up energy showed in the form of hunger, and meat craving. 
That craving had been gone for a while, the longer time you spent with Rem the more it seemed to go away, but today it had come back and it had come back strong. You wondered if it had to do with how much of your magic you had used up, or perhaps it was the moon, or Remus also wanted meat and he was projecting that onto you. 
If he had been the one to scratch you, did it make sense? There was not enough information on werewolves. 
“Then we must go to the castle.” 
You pulled the covers over your face again and dramatically buried your head in his chest. “No, Remus,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. “Just give me the chocolate.” 
“I have no chocolate.” You dug your hand in his pocket. There was an empty wrapper. “Oi!” he complained as he squirmed to the side. 
Did he really have no chocolate? That was impossible. You didn’t really care much for his complaint and leaned a little closer, resting your elbow on top of him to check the other pocket. There was a folded piece of paper and nothing else. You placed the paper back in the spot and pulled the covers to look at him, still leaning half of your body on his. 
He had that very smug expression on his face that clearly said ‘I told you so’. 
“Are you done manhandling me?” he asked calmly. 
“No,” you said as you tried to lift him up to check his back pocket, but he didn’t budge. 
“There is no chocolate,” he repeated. “I have some in the castle, though.”
“Why do you insist on taking me there?” you asked with a pout, now letting your arms and head lay close to his sternum. 
“Because Pomfrey is there,” he said honestly. “You should get checked.” 
Your face turned cold, emotionless even. The little bubble you had allowed yourself to rest in completely bursting at the thought of going to the infirmary. Of getting checked, because last night had been real, because last night you had almost diеd frozen in the snow and then earlier attacked by Lucius or perhaps tortured by Bellatrix. 
“It’s okay,” Remus said kindly, resisting the urge to place his hand on your head and play with your hair reassuringly, “She won’t ask questions, she’ll just make sure you’re okay.” 
You took a slow controlled breath, your eyes watering as you avoided Remus’s gaze for a second, turning back to look at him as you wet your lips, they were dry and chapped from how much you’d cried. Going out seemed like an immense effort, like stepping back into reality and into the war. You’d have to talk to Dumbledore, or at least to Nightshade, you had to tell them about the dinner and about all the people you’d seen there. You couldn’t be sure if they were all dеatheaters, but they had definitely been accessories to the crimes committed. 
Should you let the papers know? Would they even care?
There were about a million things swinging inside your head and you were aware that you couldn’t just stay cooped up in Remus’ arms and ignore everything completely, but that didn’t make it any less tempting. Perhaps Remus was a lot more like the Lethe than you originally thought, not because he made you forget everything that’s happened, but because his company offered a solace enough to cloud those thoughts out of your mind. 
Ironically, there was nothing more calming than your friend the werewolf. Perhaps he was so calm and collected because he was a werewolf, spending all of his life with the goal of keeping his temper down and maintaining it in check. Like Bruce Banner, who was the calmest of superheroes (when he wasn’t the Hulk).
“Can we eat first and go to Pomfrey later?” 
“No,” Remus said simply. You pouted in response. “Not even with that pretty pout of yours, sweetheart, it is non-negotiable.” 
“But Remus I–” 
“You can have a chocolate first,” he said as he lifted his hips slightly and handed over a small bar of chocolate. 
You gasped as he passed it over to you, “You said there was no chocolate.” 
Remus shrugged in response and broke off a piece of the chocolate in your hands, bringing it to his mouth and plopping it in. You laid your head on his chest again and bit off a piece yourself. You still didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay in the bubble, but bubbles were beautiful because they were ephemeral. 
They were meant to burst and sparkle leaving traces of soapy water on the floor. And that’s exactly what you had to do now. You closed your eyes before standing up. You didn’t feel as sore as you thought you would, but when you stepped down on the floor you couldn’t stop the hiss that erupted from your mouth. Remus threw you a worried glance as he sat up on the bed “What is it?” 
You pulled your feet up to your knee, there were blisters, and peeling skin, like you had been burned. Of course, you had been walking with no shoes. You had gotten badly ice burned. Your knees weren’t much better either. You hadn’t noticed since your dress covered most of them, and the emotional pain had been much worse than the physical one last night but they were also scuffed, a section already getting a scab while the other was just badly bruised. 
Remus leaned over your shoulder to take a better look, “And you wanted to eat first.” 
“I’m still hungry,” you said, trying to distract yourself with Remus’ calming smell instead of thinking about how you’d gotten those. Probably when Bella stunned you and–
“Can you walk?” 
“Of course I can walk,” you responded as you stood up. Did it hurt? Hell-a-fucking-lot. Could you manage? Well, you’d have to.
“Sure?” 
“Very,” you responded, avoiding gritting your teeth against one another completely.
You wished you had your wand, perhaps you could use some pain reliever spell or something. Remus stood up and put on his boots. You handed him his jumper and coat, he returned the latter one to you “Keep it, it’s cold outside.”
In reality, Remus was the last person to want to burst the bubble you’d created. If it was on him, he’d have stayed with you in the Shack ‘til the end of time. He loved how much closer you had veered to him, while during the night it had been for warmth, once awake he knew it was you, purposely laying your head on his chest and digging through his pockets.
He was also happy to see you. Or at least glimpses of you, not that broken, and terrified version of you he’d met the last night. He loved both the same, but there was nothing more heart-wrenching than your sobs and nothing more warming than your laughs, even if they were still slightly strained.  
You put the coat on and the two of you walked towards the door and entered into the hallway. The sprinkle of soapy water falling as you both stepped into the dark. The beautiful, and warm environment instantly switched for the colder and unforgiving passageway you’d have to walk through to get to castle grounds.
Bring me to your house and tell me "Sorry for the mess", hey, I don't mind You're talking in your sleep, out of time Well, you still make sense to me, your mess is mine
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A/N: I feel like I've had you guys at the edge of your seats for two weeks and now you can finally breath. Gosh, Remus is insanly sweet~ How can I manifest a person like this in my life?
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starrystevie · 1 year
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this is all @wynnyfryd's fault. inspired by my own post of complaining about work.
"rough day?"
steve can't help it, okay? every time that eddie rounds the corner to the in house coffee shop with those sad brown eyes and slumped shoulders, he can't just not intervene.
eddie perks up slightly, bringing his gaze from the floor up to steve's face peering from behind the espresso maker, and his frown worsens. "you could say that."
he sounds pitiful, really he does, and it could all be an overexaggerated act but it still tugs at steve's heartstrings none the less. eddie's suit doesn't fit him, the off white theming of the hotel doesn't fit him, the fake smile he puts on for the stuck up customers doesn't fit him. how eddie ended up in the luxury hotel world, steve will never know, but the one thing he does know is-
"could a cookie make it better?"
- that eddie's eyes lighting up at the promise of a warm chocolate chip cookie makes the monotony of being in a dead end job worth it. eddie gives him a smile somewhere between watery and strained that steve takes like a punch to the heart and already has the tongs out before he gets an answer.
"i'm just feeling run down," eddie starts, the ambient coffee shop soundtrack drowned out by the convection oven whirring to life on the counter. "my whole day has been one thing after another, running into red tape and things that i can't finish and it's just ugh!"
there's a thud. steve turns around to check that his famous chocolate chip cookies aren't burning to a crisp in the warmer for one second and eddie is already throwing his head onto the counter. steve has an arm out to pull him up by the hair before he can tell himself not to. instead of giving into that thought, he slides it across the counter so when eddie picks his head up and attempts to slam it down once more, it at least has a softer cushion than granite.
"hey, quit that," he tuts out and eddie goes from bonking his head on the back of steve's hand to turning it so his cheek is resting on it instead. his big brown eyes are peering up at him at an awkward angle and his cheeks are flushed from weird blood flow and yet he's still somehow the most beautiful customer steve has ever had at his counter.
"i just don't think this job is right for me anymore, y'know?" eddie's voice is a little muffled from where the side of his face is smooshed on steve's hand and it breaks his heart in the process. with his free hand, steve turns ever so gently to grab the cookie from the oven with his tongs, plops it onto a plate on the counter and slides it in front of eddie's face.
"i think if anyone could understand not being the right fit for your job, it'd be me.
he doesn't get an answer in the verbal sense. what he gets is a kiss on the back of the hand that sparks like lighting against his skin. eddie is still slumped over on the counter, his back curled over like an uncomfortable shrimp, but he has a glimmer of something in his eyes that makes steve feel as warm as the cookie on the counter.
"thanks for the cookie," eddie mutters and steve would be lying if he said his blush didn't match the one creeping up eddie's neck. "i'll see you tomorrow?"
"yeah," he breathes back. "hopefully when neither of us need cookies to feel better."
eddie unfurls, standing up straight and taking a bite of the cookie that leaves a dab of chocolate on his lip. he swipes at it with his finger and rubs it on his too nice pants and walks away, giving steve a bashful wink over his shoulder. "it's not the cookie that makes me feel better, stevie."
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bless-my-demons · 10 months
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Eight
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Just fluff, heart-wrenching fluff
Notes: Okay, so. Last Sunday in my most graceful hour, I dislocated and subsequently fractured my thumb🙂 I also hated what I originally wrote and spent all week re-writing and re-writing this scene. I hope this isn’t trash and you guys like it, I’m so sorry for the delay on this one🥲
Word Count: 1614
Series Masterlist
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• April 1st, 2006 • Home •
Reader
Ten o’clock on the dot, as promised, a knock on the front door draws me from my reverie. I’d spent the last 30 minutes after getting ready, lost in my head on the couch. Surely today’s talk with Jasper won’t end badly, god I hope not.
Swinging the door open, my eyes snap to his and a smile takes over my face on instinct. “Hey.”
“Good morning, darlin’.” The way his accent wraps around that familiar term of endearment will always make me weak in the knees.
He almost completely blocks my view but bright yellow behind him just barely snags my vision-is that?
“Did you-?”
“Borrow my sister’s apology gift? Yes, it’s a little bit too wet for a bike ride, sweetheart.” Turning to look at Alice’s car, he misses the blush heating my cheeks at the memory of the last time I was on his motorcycle, holding him close.
“Fair enough.” I turn to snag my coat from the hook near the door before closing and locking it.
His outstretched hand helps be down the front stairs before leading me to the passenger side of the beautiful Porsche. Beautiful is an understatement for this piece of machinery, I hate to even ruin the floor mats with my wet shoes.
“Alice chose her gift wisely, Edward did good.” Jasper chuckles slightly at my comment as I lower myself into the seat and he shuts the door gently, cocooning me in silence momentarily until his door opens.
“What she did for him - to save him, this was the least he could do.” Watching him start the car, I realize it’s a manual transmission.
He smoothly shifts it into reverse to exit my driveway before shifting again to leave the neighborhood. My brain stutters a little as I watch him maneuver the car, god - is everything this man does going to be ridiculously attractive?
“Where are we going?” I manage to drag my gaze from his hand and I’m caught, he smirks like he fucking knows.
“Since everyone is home, we’re going somewhere with privacy.” A shiver trickles over my skin quickly even though I’m wearing a coat, somewhere with privacy.
Excitement begins to bubble up in my chest and I opt to watch the trees as the pass by quickly outside my window, trying and probably failing to hide my own smirk.
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Jasper
Easing the car to a stop, I watch as the realization of where we are dawns on her.
“Our spot!” A breathtaking smile overtakes her face as she turns to me quickly and I’m stunned, it’s like I’m staring at an angel incarnate, gorgeous.
I chuckle and exit the vehicle, excitement and pure joy flow from her unmitigated and I smile to myself, letting her emotion wash over me like waves gently lapping at the shore.
I barely graze the door handle with my fingers before her impatience at my lack of speed flings the door open. The moment I met her quickly flashing through my mind before I catch the door, stopping it from snapping back closed in her face. “Darlin’-” I tease her, but I’m not the object of her focus.
“This view really is unfair.” Her voice is gentle as she brushes past me and closes in on the railing at the edge, protectiveness flaring in my chest at her proximity to danger.
Sporadic, gloomy clouds dot the ridge line, but the scenery is bathed in a wetness from the rain that highlights the deep tones of the forest. The air is crisp and humid, clean but also heavy with the scent of drenched wood.
“It is.” But I’m not talking about what’s beyond, I’m looking at her.
She turns at my comment and realizes my words since my eyes never leave hers, a warm blush floods her face and I quickly remove the distance between us, my finger under her chin to stop her from hiding bashfully.
“No hiding from me, not this beautiful face.” I whisper as my eyes dance along the planes and contours of her. Her joy increases tenfold and I swear it gives me a new life, she gives me new life.
I kiss her quickly even though it goes against every fiber of my being not to take my time with her mouth, but we’re here for a purpose. For a conversation long overdue.
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Jasper
Taking a deep breath and a step backwards to keep my head on straight, I dig down to my very core - somewhere no one else has been, and begin.
“To know me is to hate me - to hate me like I hate myself. I hate what I am at a cellular level. I can’t be a normal guy in love with a normal girl. I can’t allow myself to be caught up in you, your scent, your touch. I have to keep myself in check, I can’t let my thoughts or feelings run away from myself with you near. I can’t seduce you in ways I wish I could without the fear of hurting you.” A deep breath in and out, my throat is raw for the first time in a very long time, like the words bubbling up are burning. “And because I hate what I am, I hate who I am. I’m a monster that killed without complaint or a second thought for so long. It withered away at my soul, at my very core. It changed me entirely, I can’t rewind and get that version of myself back.” I swallow hard. My fingers run furrows through my hair, my skin is fucking crawling. “So how am I supposed to let you love someone like myself? How do I tether an angel like you, to a demon like me? How do I ask you to compromise yourself to fit into my world? Because you have to bend to me, you have to keep my secrets and give up so much of a normal life just to be mine. How do I ask that of the person I hold in highest regard? In the chance you choose this life, choose to change - you’re giving up on moving forward, having children, grandchildren, growing old with someone you love, staying in the lives of your loved ones, the list goes on and on and on. You could potentially come to resent me and darlin’, I wouldn’t survive that.” I pause, letting the words ruminate.
I feel slightly human again, breathing like I’ve run for miles. And I have, I’ve been outrunning this horrible inner monologue for one-hundred and forty-three years. Alone.
Until now. Until her.
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Reader
I-I’m stunned. He can’t possibly think all of these things about himself, not this absolute gentleman, this tender and kind man?
“To get to know me-to love me, is a death sentence. I’m a walking liability, I’m not safe. With everything I’ve done, I’m a monster.”
“You are no such thing-” he opens his mouth to interrupt, but I’m quick to stop him. Giving him an encouraging smile I ask, “Let me get this out?”
His eyes are desperate and hanging on for dear life waiting for what I have to say.
“To know you is to love you, Jasper. You are so many things, but a death sentence - a liability, isn’t any of them. Nobody is safe in this world and I’m certainly safest when I’m with you.” Happy tears prick at my eyes as I dredge all of these feelings up, words he should’ve heard a lifetime ago. “And above it all, you. Are. Not. A. Monster. In any shape or form, Jasper Hale. You had a master manipulator as a creator, and she twisted you until you couldn’t take it anymore - until you had to run away. Monsters don’t feel remorse, regret, or empathy. This right here - what you’re feeling when you look inwards, is proof enough that you are not this terrible horrible thing incapable of giving or receiving love.” I smile up at him, so relieved to get this off my chest, “And if the last six months is anything, it’s proof that I don’t want this life if you aren’t in it. It’s insanity to even suggest that I could love anyone else a fraction of the amount that I love you, even more so to insinuate I’d ever build a life with anyone other than you. So no, I don’t care about any of those things, not if I can’t have you.”
I can see the racing thoughts behind the storm in his eyes, the war my words have waged on the inner monologue he’s had for most of his life. I don’t expect to change his way of thinking instantly, but all I’m looking for is just a ripple, a slight shift in the tide, something to work with and build over time because I’m not fucking going anywhere.
This man deserves someone to fight for him and I was meant to dawn this armor.
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Jasper
“You have to know that you have an out, you don’t have to do this.” She’s stepping forward to cup my face and the depth of her eyes has me in a trance.
“I’m already all in, I’ve been in since the moment I met you. Stop offering outs, no amount of harsh truths are going to scare me away. It’s me and you.” She says it with such conviction my breath stutters.
“Me and you?” Unreal, this anchor holding me to earth, this angel willing to brave this life with me.
“Always.” She confirms my fate - our fate, like a simple fact. Short and sweet, just like her
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jarofstyles · 2 years
Note
Mafiarry Christmas please miss jars!!!
Of course 🫶 here is a peek into their Christmas season!
Check out our Patreon!
Warnings- mafia mention, anxiety, dangerous situations
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“You can’t be serious.”
“Don’t be a Scrooge.” Y/N puffed, hauling the tinsel behind her with a swing of the hip. “It’s not my fault you can’t see the joys of the season. You’re just grumpy.”
Harry exhaled fully, dragging his hands down his face as he walked into his living room. It looked like Christmas had thrown up all over. He had been warned by the wreath when he walked to the front door, but nothing could have prepared him for the title wave of jingle and jolly that invaded his house.
“I’m not a Scrooge. That’s offensive.” He grunted. “I’m just… this is a lot, darling. Where are you possibly going to put it all?” He knew Y/N had a lot of time on her hands now that she had agreed to stay home for her safety for a bit, some ongoing issues making it a bit hard for her to go and do the normal festivities. “I think you’ve bought the entire Christmas section.” His face had softened as he saw a slight pout on her face, stretching hard to place the tinsel on the higher hook.
The man didn’t skip a beat, coming up behind her and taking the fluffy tinsel from her hand and draping it up so it hung the way he had a feeling she would want. One hand curled around her waist, fingers slightly digging into her soft tummy as he pressed against her. Y/N couldn’t keep the facade, leaning back into him with a gentle hmph. It was unfair that a single touch, a little gesture made her feel so needy. Her body leaned into his, feeling the crispness of his pressed shirt and inhaling the scent of him as she dropped her head back against his shoulder.
“Thank you.” She paused. “Even more rude that you haven’t kissed me hello yet.”
That was something Harry could agree with. Especially with her wearing these odd yet very flattering red velvet leggings with a flare at the bottom and Santa like fuzzy stuff at the rim and a cropped knit sweater. He pulled her closer, tilting her chin up a bit and covered his mouth with hers for a full kiss. He wasn’t one to ever half ass their kisses, and he was known to be a greedy man, so he did what he did best. Holding his lips over hers and sucking slightly as he pulled back, a little smile curling his lips as he heard a soft protest from her.
Y/N spun in his arms to properly face him, hands sneaking under his blazer jacket to find his belt loops. Harry’s smile was one of the private ones reserved just for her, making her irritation at his prodding about the Christmas decor lessen. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to forget your kiss.” He gently rubbed the bare skin of her back, dipping his fingers into the waistband of the velvet things. Whatever they were, he liked how they looked and how they felt. “Just shocked me. M’not used to this. And you didn’t consult me.” There was no malice in his voice, just slight surprise. She usually told him when she did big things. This seemed to quantify as a big thing.
“Was feeling spontaneous. Antonio and co took me shopping, you knew that. But once I got to the Christmas sections I got a vision.” She raised on her tiptoes to kiss his nose before pulling away, sauntering over to the bags. “Winter wonderland. Classy and cool, doesn’t need to be taken down the very next day after Christmas. Just… something to do.” She shrugged, trying not to make him feel bad. There was no illusion, she knew what she was into when she decided to stay with him. Sometimes things would be more guarded and she would need to listen to him for safety. Harry was worth any sacrifice.
“Hm. That’s a good idea.” Harry loosened his shirt, placing the blazer on the chair. He had spent all day wanting to come home to her and relax- and he would. But he wanted to indulge first. He may not have the most Christmas spirit usually, but if it made her happy, he would put on a santa hat or something. “I’m sorry you can’t do the normal things.” He sat down on the ottoman in front of all the bags, watching her cross the room to come and sit near him to give him a ‘haul.’ He didn’t know why she loved it so much but her smiles and the excitement was well worth it.
“It’s okay. I’ve got a handsome man with pretty hands who comes home to me. He’s very dangerous and good in bed. So.” She snickered, grabbing a bag that was in her way and placing it on her lap. “It’s a good trade off.
Plus you kind of fund my hobbies so, I’ve got to give it to you.”
Harry had to laugh, crossing his arms as he watched intently, eyes locked on her as she went through the items. The light in her eyes, the excitement she showed as she was going through her purchases and explaining where each piece would go and her ‘vision’ for the spaces. Was there really a need for miniature Christmas trees in every bathroom? No. But he wouldn’t mind. It didn’t hurt anything and he was sure any of his men wouldn’t say anything either. Nothing but compliments allowed for Y/N’s sake.
“And then!” She stood up, tapping her fingers together. “I got you a tree for your office. And before you give me the Harry Eyebrow raise- your’re starting it, stop- it’s flocked. We won’t decorate it besides some lights. I know you’re a macho man who runs underground crime and all that but…” she brought the box over to him, presenting it like it was a gold dabloon. “I thought about what you’d like. Simple and elegant. It’s a pretty tree and we can set it up together. That’s all the decor for your office cause it’s your space but I just….” She fiddled with the box, looking down at it. “I wanted you to be happy too. I know things are a bit hard now, that you’re on edge. I hope that it makes you feel a bit less like your head is lost in this. That you’re still normal.”
And there it was. One of the biggest reasons why he loved her. Her pure thoughtfulness was something that Harry never would be able to find in anyone else. Despite him trying his best to shield her from some of the tiny, insignificant parts of this that would grate on him? She noticed. Holidays never felt special before her. Last year had been calm and she had given him the best Christmas he ever had, which he had admitted when curled naked around her, stroking her supple skin. Confessing how hard the holidays were especially when shit like his business was life or death for a lot of people. The weight was heavy and he tried to keep afloat but sometimes he would drown in it.
She was his life preserver.
“Thank you.” He said quietly, sitting up straighter as his finger crooked. Motioning her over to come right to him. “Come give me a cuddle before you go back to your work. We can set it up together. You’re very thoughtful, darling girl.” As soon as he could get his hands on her she was tugged into his lap, straddling him as he curled an arm around her and pulled her face down so he could kiss her cheeks. “My very own angel. Couldn’t ask for anything better.”
Harry didn’t care about stockings or anything under the tree. Lights didn’t phase him. All he needed was this. Her. Seeing her in his bed every morning as she whined for him to stay, finding his marks on her skin after nights of passion, getting to be the receiver of these sort of thoughtful gestures. She was his person. “I love you.” Her voice floated over him, snugly placing her arm around his neck. “I want to lessen the burden. Want you to have an escape.”
“You are my escape. Helped make this house a real home. I completely and utterly adore you.” His words were weighted, settling in her belly as she smiled down at him.
“That’s all I can ask for.” Her fingers delicately brushed over his jaw, the stubble rough against the tips. “You are my dream. Didn’t know I had such an intense dream of love, but you’re easy. Despite everything else you’re the easiest person to love that I could imagine. It comes naturally.” Her eyes focused on his, letting him see how truthful the sentiment was. “Thank you for indulging in me. I know you don’t care too much about the decorations but you’ll help me and look at the things I’ve bought because it makes me happy.” She watched him go to open his mouth but she shook her head. “S’okay. Promise. It makes me happy that you do it anyways. But… I just hope you know how much I appreciate you.” She ended the thanks with a kiss on the tip of his nose.
���Come on then. I need my Scrooge to roll up those Armani sleeves and use that strength to help me put up the tree. I got an artificial one. We need to save the forest.”
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comphy-and-cozy · 2 years
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can you please do something with “I’m going to ruin you” with the big boy, andrei svechnikov?
bestie, I knew this one had to be extra special for you - so it’s no question why this quickly turned into a mini fic bc what is a blurb anyway? I kind of combined this with a different request I got to make a sequel to sundress szn 😈
enjoy, my love!
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Prompt: “I’m going to ruin you.”
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x teammate’s sister!Reader (f)
Word Count: 2.2K
Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Language, brief alcohol use/mention, oral sex (m + f receiving), brief choking, unprotected sex, creampie.
The white tablecloth is thick, almost stiff against your legs. Flickering candles and dimly-lit wall lamps provide most of the light in the room, aside from the glow of the city outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows. During the day, you’re sure it’s probably a beautiful view of the skyline, but at night it’s even prettier, a sea of glittering lights amongst the darkness.
The waiters aren’t wearing white gloves, but they might as well be, their suit vests and red ties adhering to the high standard their clientele demands. The menu is small, prices not even listed — a sign that the bill will be exorbitant.
It’s far more extravagant than you would’ve wanted for a first date, but Andrei was insistent that if he was going to risk his life taking his Captain’s sister on a date, he was going to do it right.
And he did, pulling out all the right stops: arriving 5 minutes early, flowers in hand, opening your car door, offering his arm as you walked into the restaurant. He’s polite, a perfect gentleman, when he orders an expensive bottle of wine for the two of you, his eyes hardly leaving yours the entire time.
“Trying to get me liquored up?” you ask once the waiter leaves, a flirtatious smile on your face.
The glint in his eye that you love so much is back when he glances toward you, dimple exposed as his smile matches yours. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes dip down toward the shadow of your cleavage before quickly darting back up to your own. “Why? You need a little liquid confidence?”
“Why would I need confidence to do something I’ve already done?” you smirk, following his lead and letting your eyes slide slowly and blatantly over the buttons of his crisp dress shirt, already imagining the satisfying sound of them hitting the floor when you rip it open later this evening.
“There’s a few things you haven’t done.” He licks his lips, a subtle hint at what he’s referencing, and you feel a throb between your legs, debating if waiting for your food is even worth it. But, then a waiter walks by with a plate of hot, prime cut steaks sizzling in butter, the scent almost as intoxicating as the man across from you, and you think to yourself that you can wait for a little while longer.
“And you’re going to enjoy every one of them, aren’t you?” you ask with a teasing smile, gently running a hand across your collarbone.
“Oh, baby,” he hums, his gaze purely predatory despite the charming smile he puts on. To anyone around you, you’d look like a happy couple on a nice dinner date, the mounting sexual tension invisible to passersby. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
The waiter interrupts what is about to come out of your mouth, a secret that you’ll keep forever, but his words already have the desired effect. Your legs squeeze together, a desperate throb between them as your heart ticks quicker in your chest, and in some ways, you’re thankful for the interruption, unwilling to let your date know just how much impact he has on you.
Dinner is pleasant, but excruciating, watching the flex of his hands as he cuts through his expensive steak, his large fingers wrapped around the thin stem of his wine glass. It’s terribly sexy, his strength compared to the delicate fragility of the glass, surely some kind of parallel for what you’re anticipating as soon as he gets you home and the front door is locked.
Sure enough, he does, though you admit you aren’t expecting him to immediately pin you to the door you’re in the middle of locking, skirt hiked up over your hips before he’s on his knees behind you with a growl.
“No panties?”
“I’m wearing…” you trail off, your sentence punctured by a gasp when he rips the flimsy fabric in question from your frame.
“You call these panties?” he asks, though your terminology is hardly a concern now that there’s something far more tempting in his sight.
There isn’t much room for any retort, not with Andrei roughly tugging your hips backward in order to press his face against your center. He groans at the contact, the vibration traveling straight through your clit and into every single nerve ending in your body, heightened when his tongue begins to stimulate your dripping folds.
His voice is muffled by your ass, but you can make out a distinct fuck as he tastes you, the way he’s been dying to from the moment you opened your front door looking sinfully beautiful. It’s your eyes he loves most, but your legs are a close second, the skirt you picked for the night teasing him just enough to drive him insane. He couldn’t deny that he’d spent half of dinner dreaming of pressing his head between your thighs underneath the table, remembering the all-too-brief taste he had of you, wondering if he could get away with it — ultimately he’d decided against it, but having you in your entryway is a pretty close second, he thinks.
Andrei doesn’t let up until you’re two orgasms deep, legs shaking as you clutch desperately at the door for support. Offering you some reprieve, he sits back on his knees and sucks your essence off of his fingers, the ones that brought you to your latest demise, a dark glint in his eyes.
“Taste extra sweet when you’ve got some wine in you,” he jokes.
“As good as that expensive steak you bought?”
“Better,” he hums. “It doesn’t even come close.”
It isn’t long before he’s got you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, your discarded panties long forgotten near the vase by your door. His lips are attached to yours, giving you a taste of yourself, and you’re so distracted that it takes a moment before you realize he’s walking blindly, no idea where your bedroom is located.
With a giggle, you detach yourself from his lips and give him instructions, down the hall and on the right, and his bashful smile has your heart melting. The butterflies whoosh away the second he plops you onto your bed, looking down at you with a look that’s hungrier than before. Something tells you that the sight of you on a mattress is something he’s been dying to see.
You move to tug your knee-high boots off, stilled with a quick hand and a dark glance. “Leave them. Been thinking about fucking you in nothing but these boots all night.”
His words, as always, make you shiver, the lustful promises from his lips something you’ll never grow tired of. Normally, you might make some kind of quip, a snarky comeback, but you’ve been dreaming of having him inside of you from the moment he slipped out weeks ago, leaving you leaking his cum in the middle of your brother’s half bathroom. It’s all you can do not to rip his clothes off along with your own, ready for him to fuck you into oblivion like he promised.
Andrei’s hand wraps around your throat, engulfing it with ease, pulling you up to kiss him again. Blindly, your hands fumble with his dress shirt, working it open until he’s taking matters into his own hands, tearing it down the middle and sending buttons flying across the room. You barely notice your prophecy come true, instead captivated by the cut, stark lines of his muscles, like he’s been carved out of fucking clay, sculpted like a piece of art that you’d find in the Met.
“Like what you see?” he teases, muscles flexing as he shrugs the tattered shirt off his form.
“Didn’t get to appreciate it in full last time,” you say, cheeks hot from the call out — but how can he blame you? — before your eyes drop a little lower, to the expensive-looking black slacks that hang on his hips. “Just like something else.”
The sight of you on your knees, your tits pulled haphazardly out of your top as you work on his zipper is a sight Andrei knows he’ll never forget. But the feeling of you taking him in your mouth, your eyes gazing up at him while brimming with tears, pressing further and further until he touches the back of your throat? A feeling he’ll spend chasing for the rest of his life.
With a curse in Russian, his hand threads through your hair to clear your way, not wanting anything to impede his view of his cock sliding between your wet, pretty lips, disappointed he can’t see the way your tongue works sinful magic on the vein that’s throbbing on the underside. But goddamn if he can’t feel it.
He waits until he’s twitching in your mouth, body thrumming with desire and desperate to spill into the back of your throat before he ends your experiment, unwilling to release the contents of his balls anywhere but inside your cunt. Because as good as your mouth feels, he also knows what it feels like to have your snug, warm walls milking him for all he’s worth, and it’s something he wants carnally.
As promised, he rids you of all of your clothing except for your boots, though he is tempted to leave your skirt bunched around the swell of your hips because of the way it makes you look so slutty, so needy for him you couldn’t wait a second longer. But, he thinks, there’ll be another time for that, instead wanting to see you bare, fully, since he didn’t get the pleasure the last time.
“Andrei,” you whine when his strong arms pin your hands over your head, settling himself between your legs. Your body arches into his, desperate. “Please.”
“Such gorgeous legs,” he groans, ignoring you, moving one hand to nudge your thigh up over this hip, then the other. “Perfect fucking body you have.”
“Didn’t you say you were gonna ruin me? Seems like all bark and no bite.”
His eyes, normally so warm and kind, darken at your sass, and he smirks. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he loves that you can match him step for step, challenging him with your attitude that intrigues him like no other girl ever has.
The sound you make when he presses into you is near enough to make him bust right then and there; similarly, the groan he emits once he’s buried to the hilt makes you gush, feeling yourself clench tightly around his length. He’s warm, and you swear he’s bigger than before, stretching you entirely around his delicious girth. Every movement he makes is perfect, starting slow and building his pace, different from before now that he has time and space to truly ravish you. You don’t have to ask him to keep going, to move faster, to go harder, because he knows exactly what you need before you do.
You’ve lost the ability to speak, though if you could, you’d only be able to moan out his name. His pace is brutal, hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and the rough movement of his body has the cross hanging around his neck brushing against your chest with his rhythm. It’s a filthy thing, the desire to have his chain hitting your face, an inexplicably sexy detail that somehow cranks the temperature up to scorching levels.
When he lets your hands go in favor of cupping your face, your hands slip around his muscular shoulders, clutching onto him as you hang on for dear life. He wants to kiss you, to get his mouth on you, but he can’t bring himself to stop looking at your face, in awe of the way your brows scrunch together and how your mouth falls open when he hits your g-spot just right.
“Feel so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs, his accent thicker now that he’s exuding more effort with his hips instead of his English, determined to stay on pace and bring you to your high. “So pretty.”
This time, when you come, you’re in the comfort of your own home and don’t have to stay quiet for fear of your brother walking in at any second, so you’re free to cry out his name when your legs shake as your climax hits you like a fucking train. A white hot blur of pleasure blinds you, taking over every single cell in your body with everything Andrei.
He’s not far behind you, shooting thick ropes into your eager and waiting center, greedily accepting everything he has to give you. His head falls in the juncture of your neck and your shoulder, hair tickling your jaw as he pants, breath hot against your already molten skin.
“I’m never gonna be able to look Staalsy in the eye ever again,” he says. He’s joking, of course, but there’s a part of him that knows everything is different now, and not just because of the pussy that he’s pretty sure was crafted in heaven specifically for him.
Andrei Svechnikov is falling in love with his captain’s little sister, and there’s not a damn thing he can do to stop it.
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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 11 months
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A Flower With Petals of Flame: part fourteen (Eris x Reader)
Warnings: Angst, threats, swearing, and mentions of murder
Part thirteen Part fifteen
Tag list: open
Y/N has a bit of a break down, and while comforting her, Eris explains that he loves her, despite what he has said in the past.
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I winnow all of us to the tree between the spring and autumn court that Eris and I always used to meet at.
Sam starts to scope out the area, as I knew he would, and I take the opportunity to slip farther into the trees.
Eris follows me after a minute, finding me leaning against a tree, trying to keep from having a complete breakdown.
“Hey, it’s okay.”  Eris spoke softly, taking me into his arms and petting my hair as I rested my head against his shoulder.
“He hates me.  They are all going to hate me.”  I whisper as tears start to fall.
He hugged me tighter.  “That’s they’re loss then, because you, Y/N, are the most amazing, caring, strong, and brilliant person to have ever lived.”  He says softly, and I look up into his eyes, and they are depthless as they swirl with emotion.  “Anyone who can’t see that, isn’t worth your pain.”
Leaning down, he made to kiss me, but I dodged, my voice watery as I spoke, pushing out of his arms, “No Eris.”
He looked surprised, and a little hurt.  “Y/N?”
I shook my head, wiping away tears with shaking hands.  “I can’t do this right now- I can’t- I know that this-”  I wave my hand at the two of us, “was never supposed to be serious, but if we aren’t going to be more, I can’t do the kisses and one night stands anymore.”
I hide my face in my hands and let out a muffled laugh.  “I’m just a fucking mess, aren’t I?”
His warm hands gently pry mine away from my face.
“If anyone here is a mess, I am Y/N.”
He takes my face in his hands, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine.  “I love you.”
My heart burns, and I force myself to speak, to make sure he meant it, “But- but you told me that you didn’t-”
He shudders, and I just want to pull him closer, drop the whole conversation and soothe him.
But his words from so many years ago echo in my head.
“I didn’t mean that.  Any of it.  Let me explain.”  His chest heaves as he pleads, “please.”
I nod silently, and he starts talking…
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Eris pov, a week before Y/N’s death:
I stormed out of my father’s private office.  I knew I would pay for the disrespect later, but currently I couldn’t give a shit.
“I don’t know why you’ve decided to fuck some Illyrian whore, but you will cut it off.  Or I will cut her up.”
My father was not a humorous person, and the only time he made jokes was when he knew he had won.
Of course, I hadn’t found it funny.
I had completely erupted into flames, shocking Beron as I almost burnt him to a crisp.
This had never happened before.  Beron’s sons didn’t retaliate or fall out of line.  It simply wasn’t done.
The words he shouted after as I made a speedy exit haunted me.
“You are a Vanssa! I will not have you sullying our good name with some whore.”
Y/n’s not a fucking whore.  She’s a beautiful, strong female, and there was only ever going to be one of her.
And my father was going to kill her.
I wouldn’t let that happen, I decide as I’m running down the halls.
I don’t know how he found out about her in the first place, but there was only one thing I could think of to keep her safe.
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She was beautiful.  My heart aches as I walk up to our meeting spot, seeing you sitting against the tree with a radiant grin on your face, hair done up in ribbons and a dress on.
You never wore dresses.  At least, out here where your father couldn’t see.
I force myself to smile as I walk up, even as my heart screams in pain, screams at me to lift you up and profess my love and ask you to run away with me.
But I cannot leave.  We would never escape our fathers.
I should have known this would never last, but I had hoped, foolishly, that maybe we could have our happy ending.
“Eris!”  You exclaim, shooting to your feet as you rush to me, throwing your arms around me.
I let myself pull you tighter to me for only a moment, memorizing the way you smell, you feel, the smile you wear.
You pull away, and before I can say a word, you launch into a speech.
“Eris, I know that this is strange, and sudden, and so totally bizarre, but I need to ask you something.”  You say, words coming fast and excitedly frantic.
“Run away with me.” Your eyes are wide as you say it, grabbing my hands in yours.
My throat burns, and my stomach twists into knots as my face falls.
You let go, backing up a step as you see my reaction.  “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything right now.  Maybe it was-”
“I don’t love you.”  I say, the words gutting something vital in me.
You freeze, your face blank as you process the words.  “What?”
“We are friends.  That’s it.  I mean, we’ve had some fun, but that was all it was.  Fun.”
I hate myself for the words, for the disinterested expression I have plastered onto my face, for the look of absolute pain that spreads across her face.
“So-”  She stopped, taking a deep breath and I watched as her eyes grew steely.  “You could have said something sooner.”  She rebuffed quickly.
I shrug, everything in me screaming as my heart tore itself apart.  “Maybe.”
She studied me for a moment, before whispering, “Fuck you Eris.”  She turned and strode out of the clearing.
I didn’t move for quite some time.
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Y/N’s pov, present:
My heart aches as he finishes telling me his perspective of that day, of why he said those things.
“I love you Y/N, and the day-”  His jaw works as he closes his eyes, speaking softly, “The day you died, I went looking for you.  I was going to tell you the whole truth.”
Tears start to streak down my face once more, and I bring my hands up to Eris’s face to try and soothe him.
“I love you too.”  I whisper, only for him to hear.
Leaning down, he took my lips in his, and I melted into his embrace.
After a lifetime of pretending to be soft, and unguarded, it was nice to actually feel that way.
Like I didn’t have to be anyone but myself, and I would still be loved.
I like it.
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rillils · 8 months
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so um, so maybe i'm addicted to prompt generators. that might be a thing. hm. *screeches into the void*
rating: T wordcount: 1342 tags: fluff, crack, established relationship, bearded Steve because i've got a soft spot for him, general silliness, dorks in love, domestic bliss, aaand that's it i think
If life was fair, and not plotting to give Bucky an inappropriate boner in the middle of a crowded beach, then for once Steve might deign to look like an average guy enjoying a hot summer day with his man, rather than, you know, put to shame the rest of humankind with his luxuriant, marble-carved, sexy lumberjack league, mouth-watering presence.
But nope.
He walks out of the ocean with seafoam lapping longingly at his ankles, looking for all the world like Aphrodite and Magic Mike had hot writhing sex right there on the shore, without ever getting a single grain of sand in any uncomfortable places, and nine months later he happened, with his thick thighs and his tapered waist, and droplets of saltwater gliding down the slick planes of his torso like liquid diamonds. Which Bucky will abstain from licking off Steve’s skin, not because he’s feeling especially strong today, no – just so they don’t end up charged with public indecency. Again.
Steve’s face, though, as he splashes eagerly towards him, is the face of a kid who just spent the better part of an hour frolicking about in the water, flushed and animated, ecstatic, and bearing the promise of one hell of a nap sometime in the near future.
He seizes Bucky by the waist with his big wet paws, and presses a victorious kiss to Bucky’s mouth, nearly causing him to drop his ice cream bar – yes, the one Bucky bought just so he’d have an excuse to step back and enjoy the newly familiar sight of Steve Rogers having the time of his life, in the most joyful, delightfully mundane of ways.
He should get to be this carefree every day. Bucky feels very strongly about that.
“Come back in, honey, come on,” Steve cajoles, wearing the biggest, goofiest grin Bucky’s seen on him since the day he caught this very man hurtling down their driveway on a hoverboard at breakneck speed. It would have taken some pretty heavy divine intervention for him not to go crashing straight into the trashcans – and God must have thought it wasn’t worth the hassle, if the big oaf was just going to pick himself up and try again anyways.
“In a minute,” Bucky promises him. Because, while there might be a universe out there where he’s actually capable of denying this guy something he wants, it’s definitely not this one.
“Come on, the water’s great!” Steve presses on, his meaty hands squeezing gently at Bucky’s waist, deliciously cool against Bucky’s sun-warm skin. He’s like a big puppy begging for another treat, buzzing with energy, glowing with it from the apples of his flushed cheeks to the sparkling blue of his eyes. He is, for lack of a better word, fucking. precious.
Bucky slides his free hand up Steve’s chest, metal fingers stroking appreciatively over the dark whorls of his chest-hair. It’s ridiculous, how quickly he’s ready to give in.
“At least let me finish my ice cream, first,” he says, waving the thing under Steve’s nose. He could swear Steve’s ears perk up, like he’s only just noticed the stick in Bucky’s hand.
“Oh,” he says, and it’s a pleased kind of oh. “Can I have some?”
“’course. Here.”
Rather than passing the ice cream over to him, Bucky just lifts it to Steve’s lips, inviting him to take a bite.
Eyes crinkled with some secret pleasure, Steve leans in. The thin chocolate shell breaks with a crisp, satisfying crunch under his teeth, the creamy vanilla filling kissing his bottom lip and lingering there, helpless, until Steve collects it with a slow sweep of his tongue, never one to leave someone behind. The soft mmh he releases goes straight to Bucky’s gut, warming him from deep within.
He smiles, like he’s been trying to hold back and he just can’t help himself anymore. “Is it good?”
Steve gives him the Look – the one he gets in his eyes sometimes, when the toe-curling intensity of his gaze tells Bucky that he’s thinking about them – them in their bedroom, stumbling their way through the door with groping hands and tangled legs, laugh slipping into moan slipping back around into laugh, or on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake and the bag of sugar spill everywhere, or in the broom closet, caught by a mid-morning frenzy like they were last Saturday, quick and frantic and muffling each other’s moans, as if somebody might have walked in on them any second. And they’re in public, so Steve can’t do anything about it; but Bucky can tell he’s filing away all the words he wants to say and saving them for later, when he can lavish them straight onto Bucky’s sweat-slick skin.
“’S nice,” Steve rumbles, gaze dropping to Bucky’s lips for a long, deliberate moment. “But I know something better.”
A sweet shiver rolls down Bucky’s spine. “Do you, now.” He palms the side Steve’s neck, thumb circling over the delicate skin behind his earlobe, and pulls Steve to him, meeting him halfway into the kiss. Steve’s lips part gloriously for him, the hot caress of his tongue slipping the taste of chocolate and vanilla into Bucky’s welcoming mouth, spiked by a thrilling hint of salt.
A few drops of saltwater drip from Steve’s beard to land on Bucky’s bare chest, and from there trickle down his stomach, skirting his navel to soak into the waistband of his swim trunks, following a path Steve himself has traced with the tip of his tongue many a time.
Only too soon, Steve nudges his chin into Bucky’s own, pulling away, and Bucky chases his lips for one last peck before he lets go.
Steve looks back at him, eyelashes fanning darkly, thick with moisture. His eyes come alive with his smile, gleaming with the pure, blinding joy behind it. Openly adoring, they are, in a way Bucky couldn’t perceive any more clearly if Steve were spelling it out for him. He thinks Steve knows (how deeply, desperately) he feels the same way. He thinks he should tell Steve more often, just in case.
“You gonna join me, then?” Steve asks, all sun-kissed freckles and hopeful eyes, hands giving Bucky’s hips a playful little wiggle. Silly man. Bucky would reach up and pluck the sun out of the sky for him, if he only asked.
Bucky grins, and hopes it doesn’t scandalize any onlookers, with how obscenely fond it must be. “What about my ice cream, though?”
The curl of Steve’s mouth turns unexpectedly mischievous.
“Just hold it out of the water,” he says, and with no further ado, he swoops in to hook one arm behind Bucky’s knees and hoists him up, startling an undignified squeal out of him.
“What–! ”
Steve beams down at him, an almost manic glint in his eye. “Let’s go!”
And with the enthusiasm of an excited golden retriever, he goes bounding towards the glittering waves, kicking up wet sand behind them. Bucky grabs onto his broad shoulders, partly just to feel the firm muscle there, and partly out of a last-minute sense of self-preservation.
“Steve!” He calls out, laughter ripped out of his chest, sudden and shocking, as they splash a bunch of shrieking children on their path. “Put me down, you punk-ass manchild–”
“Nope,” says Steve, relenting only once the water’s reaching up to their chests. There, he stops, swaying gently with the tide, and shifts Bucky in his arms until he’s got Bucky’s legs wrapped around his middle, gathering him close. “I’m your ride for the day.”
And how could Bucky ever object to that? The ocean dances sweet and placid around them, warm under the midday sun, and the man he loves wants him here, tucked in the circle of his arms.
“Fine,” he says, pressing the word to Steve’s lips with a slow kiss. Fine, have it your way.
His last coherent thought, before Steve licks expertly into his mouth, is that they might not escape the public indecency allegations today, after all.
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readyforthegarden · 1 year
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Ever After - A Bubblegum Short
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A/N: Eden and Jake have been on my mind for quite a while, and I've missed them so much. So I've put together a few blurbs for them about their lives post-Bubblegum, and how their little family in the epilogue came to be.
WC: 3600
🌙🌙🌙
It had been a whirlwind of a month in Michigan, Jake carting Eden everywhere, taking her to his family's cabin after a quick visit home, then to a few different places he had been dreaming of taking her since they had become official.
He planned everything perfectly, the cool autumn air rustling the bright yellow and orange leaves in the trees around them. Today was going to be gorgeous, their roadtrip would be long, but definitely worth it. Currently he was enjoying the heat of Eden's body tucked into his side, sleeping away peacefully in the chilly morning. He held her close, letting his callused thumb graze the soft, tanned skin of her upper arm. Her hair still smelled vaguely of her shampoo and campfire, the two of them having spent most of the night out at the fire pit, quietly enjoying each others company before coming inside and recreating their first night together, just as passionately as it was a few years prior.
Eventually, his awakened body became restless, and he untangled himself and gently left his love in the bed, smiling to himself as Eden burrowed into his pillow, inhaling deeply and humming in her sleep. He pulled on his boxer-briefs and his old white t-shirt, running a hand through his hair as he left the bedroom quietly.
Padding into the kitchen, he began brewing a pot of coffee. Checking the time on the oven clock, he realized they'd slept in a little later than he wanted, and started preparing breakfast for them.
"I smell bacon." Jake looked up a while later, seeing a frumpled Eden shuffling into the room. She rubbed her eyes with one hand, reaching down to scratch a mosquito bite on her calf with the other. She was wearing an oversized shirt, the logo faded from washing a few moth holes were worn into it.
"Good morning, darlin'." Jake greeted her, feeling her arms circle his waist. She mumbled a soft 'guh mornin' back into his shoulder. "Coffee's ready, go grab a cup, we've got to get moving."
"Where are we going today?" Eden asked through a yawn, grabbing the mug Jake had set out for her and pouring the coffee in. She moved to the fridge to grab the bottle of creamer.
"I've got a little trip to Mackinaw City planned for us." Jake smiled. "Super touristy, but we're gonna have fun."
"That's like, up here, right?" Eden set her mug down, holding up her palm, making Jake proud as she used her hand as a map.
"Yeah, thereabouts." Jake laughed, moving away from the stove and giving her lips a sweet kiss. "It's about a four hour drive."
"Oh that's all?" Eden sniffed, sipping her coffee. "Do I have time to shower after breakfast? Or is this a hit the road as soon as the plates are washed kind of deal?"
"Oh, we have time for a shower." Jake gave her a little wink. "There's always time for that."
“Who said you were invited?” Eden smirked at Jake from over the rim of her mug. “I’m still tired from last night.”
“Yeah? That just means I’ve done my job well.” Jake waggled his eyebrows, making Eden laugh.
“Alright lover boy, give me some of that bacon and we’ll see about that shower later.”
🌙🌙🌙
The ride up north was long, but worth it. Eden’s gasps at the foliage that zipped by as they drove up the interstate was worth every minute. It was a bright, beautiful Michigan day, the air crisp and the smell of fall weaving through the branches of the trees themselves.
They’d arrived in Mackinaw City in the mid-afternoon, and Jake took Eden around the town, in and out of touristy shops, buying fudge and silly airbrushed t-shirts with their names on them for fun. The afternoon wore on into the evening, and they found a small diner to have dinner in.
“Are we driving back to the cabin tonight?” Eden asked, dunking her french fry in the honey mustard on her plate.
“No, I got us a room at one of the hotels here in town for the night.”
“Good, it’s not a bad drive, but I know I’ll fall asleep and I don’t want to leave you driving by yourself.” Eden smiled.
“I have one more place I want to take us before we turn in for the night.” Jake told her, piquing her interest. “Ah, it’s a surprise.”
Eden slumped back against the diner booth, squinting at Jake though a cheeky smirk tugged at her lips. Once the bill was paid, Jake ushered Eden into the car, and they started their drive. The sun began to set as Jake drove out of the city, and Eden curiously looked at every sign along the way, seeing if she could figure out where exactly he was taking her.
“Ooh, are we going to see the giant Paul Bunyon statue?!” Eden glanced over to Jake. He shook his head.
“No, that’s across the bridge.” he replied. “But maybe tomorrow.” Eden pursed her lips and kept thinking. The sun had completely set when they pulled down a gravel road, Eden could barely see the sign.
“A state park? Don’t they close at night? What are we doing here?”
“You’ll see.” Jake parked his car near a few others, getting out. Eden confusedly followed suit, taking the hand he offered her when they met at the front of his car.
They walked a little ways into the park, coming to a lakeshore. Before Jake could say anything, Eden gasped, looking up at the sky.
"Jake, that's the aurora borealis!" Eden turned to him wide-eyed. "Oh my god! We're seeing it!"
"I know!" Jake grinned, watching as Eden walked forward a few steps, staring up at the sky, the vibrant colors reflecting upon her face. "This is a dark sky park, there's no light pollution for miles. You can see everything so clearly." Eden felt a pricking at her eyes, a few tears escaped down her cheek as she watched the waves of colored lights. Jake wanted to look up at the lights, but he couldn't take his eyes off Eden.
"I almost wish Sam was here to tell us all the science-y crap about how this happens." Eden airly chuckled.
"About that," Jake caught Eden's attention. When she turned around again, Eden looked behind him, seeing the aforementioned brother standing a few feet away, grinning, one of his fancy cameras in hand.
"Sam!" Eden grinned. "I didn't know you were going to be here!"
"I asked him to come, so we could have some photos." Jake cut in before Sam could answer, his nerves starting to set in.
"Photos?" Eden's forehead wrinkled in confusion as Jake stepped towards her. He reached into his pocket, wrapping his hand around the velvet box. "For what?"
"Eden, since that first date we were set up on, I knew that you were going to change my life." Jake smiled crookedly at the memory of feeling less than enthused, sitting across the table from Eden, who then looked like a disco ball shattered over her dress. "Through our journey together, I've only fallen more madly, deeply in love with you, and I want you to know that I'm undeniably yours. Forever." Jake knelt down on one knee as Eden raised her hands to her mouth, covering them in surprise. They had talked many, many times about the next step, but always left the conversation at 'when it feels right' and never put any expectations on it.
Jake finally pulled the velvet box from his pocket, it weighing heavy in his hand as he propped the lid open, showing Eden one of the most gorgeous rings she'd ever seen. A deep green, hexagon shaped emerald rested between two small diamonds glimmered under the lights. Small flashes from Sam's camera were going off out of the corner of their eyes, but they paid it no mind. "Eden, will you please make me the most exuberantly happy man, and marry me?"
"Yes!" Eden nearly shrieked, pulling her hands away from her face. "Oh my god, yes!" the wide grin on her face made Jake match it, a few tears welling up in his own eyes as he plucked the ring from it's cushion, taking Eden's shaking hand in his and sliding it upon her finger. Within seconds, he was on his back, Eden wrapped around him, crying into his neck. Jake wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him.
"This is going in the scrapbook," Sam murmured under his breath, snapping away still, his own heart swelling for his older brother and best friend. After a few moments of Eden and Jake peppering each other with kisses, they got up, and embraced more, Sam getting a few more shots of them under the lights before departing.
"Jake, this is so...." Eden looked up at him, to the lights and back to him. "Did you plan this whole trip around this?"
"I've had the ring for six months but I knew I was going to do this for a long time." Jake smiled, pecking her lips. "I wanted to make sure everything was perfect, and when the lights aligned with our trip, I knew it was the right time."
"I love you, so much." Eden sniffled. "Jake I've been yours since the moment you gave me those potatoes." Jake couldn't help but toss his head back and laugh.
"Oh, those potatoes are what did it, huh?"
"When a man shares his potatoes, that's love." Eden giggled. She couldn't keep her hands off of him, hugging him, cupping his face, fisting his shirt like he would disappear in a puff of smoke if she let go. "I'm so lucky."
"I'm the lucky one," Jake hummed, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "So damn lucky."
🌙🌙🌙
Eden stood in the bridal suite of the large, rustic cabin, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The photos were all done, the photographers getting ready at the ceremony space to capture those images. Her hair was loosely curled, cascading over her shoulders. The veil that adorned her, fastened by a comb at the crown of her head, was embroidered along the edges with colorful flowers and a special nod to her soon-to-be husband. A few flowers hid small taurus symbols, the same, beautiful blue that matched his suit and her award show outfit all those years ago.
"It's almost time, are you ready?" Eden looked up, seeing Sam standing in the doorway. He had only checked in on her a few times, but seemed taken back by her completed look. "God, Eden...you look breathtaking."
"Really?" Eden felt a few tears stinging her eyes as Sam stepped towards her, pulling a small pack of tissues from his pocket and immediately dabbing at her eyes.
"You're an absolute vision." Sam assured her. "I don't think there will ever be a bride that looks half as beautiful as you."
"You're such a flatterer, Sam." Eden laughed. "Is my makeup okay?" Sam dabbed at her eyes a little bit more, nodding. Music began playing outside, and Eden felt a flutter in her stomach, fidgeting a bit in front of the tall man.
"Nervous?"
"Not at all." Eden shook her head. "I'm excited. I just wanna see him already." Eden had spent the night in the cabin with Jake's mom, sister, and a few female friends. It took his brothers dragging him through the front door to get Jake to leave for the hotel a few miles away, him stopping and kissing Eden every few steps, holding onto her hand and nearly dragging her with him outside. If it hadn't been for his sister tugging Eden back, she was sure she would have woken up in the hotel bed next to Jake, risking the bad luck of him seeing her before the wedding.
A knock on the door sounded through the room, and they both turned to see the wedding planner smiling at them.
"Jake is already down the aisle, it's time to take your place." Sam turned, offering Eden his arm. Sam had been Eden’s choice to walk her down the aisle, her own father having passed, and no siblings of her own. Sam had been her first true friend in so long, it only felt right to give him the role. He was playing double duty, being your man of honor as well, another job he swelled with pride at getting.
Sam led Eden to the patio doors. Through the gauzy curtains, she could see the smoky mountains, surrounded by the beautiful fall foliage. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky, a perfect dusk wedding.
“Hey,” Eden turned to look at Sam, who was grinning down at her. “I love you. I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my sister.”
“I love you too, Sam.” Eden let go of her bouquet, squeezing Sam’s hand. The wedding planner’s walkie went off, and the music changed, a lilting piano rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Songbird’ echoed as the doors swung open, revealing Sam and Eden to the guests. They all stood, beaming up at her but as soon as she they found him, her eyes were trained on Jake. He had glanced back to Josh, saying something to his brother and best man, before turning back. As Sam carefully led her down the steps, Jake brought a hand up, he eyes already brimming with tears, seeing Eden moving toward him and the rest of their lives together.
Sam chuckled under his breath, feeling Eden tugging on his arm in her haste to get to the altar and to Jake.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Sam whispered to her. “You gotta have some nice photos of your walk down though, so pull back a little.” Eden giggled, her grin wide as she nodded, evening out her pace with the taller man.
After what felt like an eternity, Sam handed her off to Jake, who helped her up onto the small platform, kissing her one hand as she used the other to hand her bouquet to Sam.
“You look…there are no words for how beautiful you are.” Jake murmured, taking in her bridal form. Jake also wore white, a suit custom made for the big day.
As Eden stood before him, her eyes scanned him, bouncing around and taking him in, from the low bun his hair was tied back in under his white, wide-brimmed hat, to the one delicate chain he wore against his chest under the open dress shirt under his suit jacket. Her eyes were sparkling, and her smile grew wider when she noticed the subtle markings of his taurus suit done in a matching white thread so as not to be completely obvious. She grabbed her veil, tugging it slightly to show him the matching blue detail on the train of it. Jake grinned, feeling a swelling in his chest at her excitement for their surprises for each other.
“My something blue,” Eden whispered. Jake’s eyes danced with a proud laugh as Danny stood before them a journal in hand.
“Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Eden Beckett and Jacob Kiszka. A love that started out unconventionally, but has become one of the great love stories of our time.” Danny spoke into the microphone after everyone was seated again. “As someone who has the honor of being their friend, I got a front row seat to watching their relationship go from set-up, to friendship, and blossom into a beautiful love.” Eden was already sniffling, a tear running down her cheek. Jake reached into his pocket, taking out a tissue and reaching across the small space, dabbing at the trail, earning a small chorus of 'aww's'. Danny continued with his speech before giving way to Jake and Eden, letting them recite their vows.
Jake took a piece of paper from a pocket inside his suit jacket, unfolding it, his hands shaking a bit as one of them reached for the microphone Danny held out. Eden turned away for a second, grabbing more tissues from Sam before Jake started speaking.
"Eden, I've written and re-written these words so many times over the last year, because there are simply no words that can perfectly describe how I feel about you. All words fail in comparison to the actual feelings I get when I see you. I fall asleep excited that I get to wake up next to you, and I spend all day feeling lucky I get to come home and fall asleep next to you. You challenge me every day, in art, music, random facts and trivia. My family loves you, you're the sister Ronnie always wanted, for sure." a small 'woo!' echoed out from Ronnie in the seats, making everyone laugh and Eden shoot her a wide smile. "I love you in every way imaginable, and I will love you for the rest of my life, and in the hereafter."
"Eden, you may recite your vows." Danny nodded to her. In true Eden fashion, she had memorized her vows, clearing her throat as she took the mic.
"Jake, I also struggled with writing my vows, because it's nearly impossible to put into words how deeply I love and care for you. You are my home and adventure, all at once. You push me to try new things and are there to catch me when I fall, and I am forever grateful for the mishaps that led to our meeting. I used to look back on all the things I'd done wrong before I met you, but they've led me to you, and I don't think they were ever mistakes. They were meant to happen so we could come together. I wish I could more eloquently say my vows, but all I have to say is that I'm so in love with you, and I can't imagine any other future than one with you."
Eden handed back the microphone to Danny, who continued in the ceremony, having them recite the typical vows so they could say 'I Do'.
"With the power vested in me by the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Danny grinned. "Jake, you may now kiss your bride." Jake turned to Eden, stepping forward and sliding his hands around her waist, tugging her into him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, thumbs grazing his neck softly. Jake gazed down at Eden, memorizing her face before leaning down, planting a kiss on her mauvey-pink lips. "I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Kiskza!" Eden and Jake parted briefly to giddily laugh before exchanging a few more kisses as their friends and family cheered.
🌙🌙🌙
Jake watched across the room as Danny twirled Eden around the dance floor of their reception, the fairy lights hung up in the trees picking up every sparkle in her eyes, glinting off the rings that adorned her left hand. It was well into the night, her hair was starting to frizz from the heat of dancing, but she just couldn't stop. She told Jake she was so happy her body just couldn't stop moving. He would slide in for a few slower paced songs, his hair falling from it's bun, wisps framing his face until he took it out altogether.
"Who would've thought one of the worlds best rock guitarists would've ended up married to a princess of pop?" Jake glanced to his left, seeing Josh leaning against the bar next to him. The older twin smiled at the younger, his cheeks red from dancing and drinking.
"I went soft, huh?" Jake chuckled.
"You've always been soft." Josh rolled his eyes. "Just took meeting the right person to let you show it." they both turned to watch their friends and family dance around, Sam having cut in Eden's dance with Danny, making her laugh. Even above the music, Jake could hear the peels of her laughter. "I'm really happy for you, Jake."
"Thanks, Josh." Jake smiled at Josh, sharing a sincere moment of silence. Josh took a sip of his drink, and the music changed, a funky disco beat thumping through the soundsystem.
"That's my cue." Josh sniffed, rolling his neck before dancing his way through the small crowd to the floor. Jake laughed and grabbed his own drink, taking a swig as Eden approached.
"Hi baby!" she grinned. Jake smiled, wrapping an arm around her as she took the glass in his hand, downing the drink. "Ooh, that was not water."
"Noo it wasn't." Jake laughed at his tipsy bride, turning and asking the bartender for two bottles of water. "Are you having fun, Mrs. Kiszka?"
"I'm having the time of my life, Mr. Kiszka." Eden leaned her body against his, smiling up at him dreamily.
"Good," Jake leaned down and kissed her for the millionth time that night, knowing he would never get his true fill of her for as long as he lived. He would always be hungry for another kiss, another touch from her. "We're going to have to head out soon, it's already nearly two."
"Ugh, I don't want to leave yet." Eden frowned. "I wanna stay and dance with our friends!" Jake brushed her hair back, now placing a kiss to her forehead.
"I know, but we have to get some sleep and make sure we finish packing." Jake reminded her. "Tomorrow night, we leave for Europe."
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whump-me · 3 months
Text
Unseen: Chapter 13
Chapter 13 of Unseen, a novel-length whump story about a ruthless mob heiress and the superpowered assassin she kidnaps and forces to work for her—and the unexpected friendship that develops between them.
Masterpost | the Mind Games universe | Read the complete novel on Patreon
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When Yvette’s father had wanted to meet with one of his people one-on-one, he had brought them to his office. When he needed to meet with all the most important figures in his organization at once, he used the conference room.
The room was as vast as a ballroom, with a high arched ceiling and glittering lights that filled the room with odd shadows. Behind her father’s chair—Yvette’s chair, now—hung three oil portraits. One of her father looking stern and regal. One of her mother, who had died before Yvette’s first birthday. And one of Yvette, eight years old, smiling demurely and wearing a dress that was all froth and frills.
The room was dominated by a massive wooden table that had as many exactly as many chairs as there were attendees. Or it had when her father was alive. This time, some of the chairs were empty. Yvette could have had the empty chairs removed before the meeting. It was what her father always did, if someone passed away or was simply going to be absent. She hadn’t.
She wanted the empty seats to send a message.
They had been at this for an hour now, and Yvette still wasn’t sure the message had been received.
She wanted a cup of coffee. She wanted a fifteen-minute break, preferably one where she curled up on the rug of her father’s office like an old tired dog and took a nap. She asked for neither. The others were all as tired as she was, and none of them had said a word about it. She would not break first.
“It’s a simple question,” she said, her voice crisp and clear despite her exhaustion. “I’m surprised not a single one of you can answer it, considering you were my father’s most capable lieutenants. I just want to know how to make these numbers line up.”
Armin Tehrani, a rotund man with a graying mustache, cleared his throat. “I did mention my shipment that was hijacked by a local bunch of would-be entrepreneurs. I’m still deciding on the proper method of retribution.”
“That’s for me to decide,” Yvette reminded him. “And I know what was in that shipment. I know how much it was worth. It was not the anything close to the missing amount.”
Donovan Donnellan, who had a deceptively kind face, offered her a barbed smile. “If you’re having trouble with the finances, I’m sure you can find someone to help. I would be happy to offer my services.”
An hour ago, she might have returned his smile out of her own and said she would think about it. Now she met his gaze with narrowed eyes and an unsmiling mouth. “I’m better with numbers than my father ever was,” she said, “let alone any of you. And you all know it.”
A ripple of unease spread down the table. Maybe this was the kind of thing Reynold had meant when he had said she didn’t know how to talk to people.
Or maybe they just all knew she was right.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Reynold stepped out of the shadows behind her chair. “Perhaps it’s time to wrap things up for the night,” he suggested gently. “Before things get any more heated.”
Yvette shot him a look. He could give her advice in private all he wanted, although she couldn’t promise to take it. But the more help he offered in meetings like this, the more the others would think she was incapable.
Just like Reynold thought she was incapable.
“Reynold may be right,” Donnellan said. “I can see how tired you are. And no wonder, with you trying to handle all of this alone.”
“No,” Yvette said, to him and to Reynold. “We’re working this out tonight.”
She could sense Reynold’s disapproval. What did he want from her? He had told her to try to find a way to resolve these issues besides sending Violet after her enemies. This was her trying to do that.
“There’s nothing to work out,” said Oren Towles, a stick insect of a man with a gold-tipped cane and an irritating habit of tapping it against the floor at odd intervals. “Math errors happen. It’s inevitable. Especially for someone new to the practice of keeping accounts.”
“I’m hardly the novice you insist on thinking I am,” said Yvette. “But yes, I’ll grant you that the occasional error is inevitable. Not errors like this, though. These are widespread, and they are large. Too large to be chalked up to careless math.”
She swept her gaze across the table, lingering on the empty chairs.
“We’ve been at this for an hour,” she said, “and we’ve gotten nowhere. Perhaps it’s time to speak plainly. Someone is taking money for himself, or selling goods on the side. Maybe several someones.” She spread her hands wide on the table, palms up. “Or maybe they’re doing something else with the missing money. Whatever it is, I’m open to hearing about it.”
“Yvette is willing to forgive this lapse in judgment,” Reynold added, “if those responsible confess now.”
The look Yvette shot him was sharper this time. What was he thinking?
“Would you rather forgive their crimes, and know who to watch closely in the future,” he murmured for her ears only, “or would you rather not know who might be creeping up behind your back with a dagger?”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “Confess now,” she said, “and all will be forgiven.”
She told herself the looks the others shot each other had nothing to do with Reynold speaking first. She knew better. He had been right to offer forgiveness to the perpetrators—but she wondered how much credibility he had cost her in the process.
“I think we would be better off adjourning for now, and giving you a chance to take a second look at the books,” said Donnellan. “It’s true you have a little talent for this sort of thing. Even so, we have to make allowances for grief. You’ve been through so much lately, Yvette. We all understand.”
A murmur of agreement rose from around the room.
Yvette pressed her lips closed on a sharp retort. She had been over the books a second time—and a third, a fourth, a fifth. This was not grief. She was not wrong.
And yet.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten a full night’s sleep. Even when she got to bed before midnight, she had floated in and out of restless dreams, full of invisible assassins and corpses that wore her father’s face.
And she had made a mistake in the math the last time she had gone over the books. It had stymied her for half the night, sending her back over each and every calculation to find out why the numbers had stopped adding up.
She pulled out her phone and looked down at the empty screen. “I’m sorry,” she said, pushing her chair back as she stood. “There’s an urgent situation. I need to step out for a moment. Please excuse me.”
As she strode from the room, she gave Reynold a small nod. Reynold followed her.
She told herself the others didn’t notice. She knew they would.
She led him a short distance to the study, where she sank into her father’s leather chair and let out a long sigh. She stared out the window at the old oak tree with its swaying branches.
After a moment, she turned to Reynold. “Is there a chance I’m actually wrong here?”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s not the question I thought he would ask.”
“Then what did you think I would ask?”
“I wasn’t sure,” Reynold admitted. “But I didn’t…” his voice trailed off.
“You didn’t think I was capable of admitting I might be wrong?”
A faint smile crossed his face. “You must admit, humility is not one of your strengths.”
She answered his smile with a reluctant one of her own. “Answer the question,” she said, letting her head sag back. “If I’m being an idiot, you’re the only one I trust to tell me. Whether I want to hear it or not.”
“You showed me the math before you called this meeting,” he reminded her. “We went over it together multiple times. You’re not wrong.”
She didn’t know whether that was a relief for the opposite.
She bent forward to bury her head in hands. “The in town,” she said. “What do I do? I can’t use Violet for this one.”
“Who?”
“The assassin. PERI never gave her a name, did you know that?”
“But you did.” Yvette couldn’t read Reynold’s voice.
She peered at him through her hands. “What do you mean by that?”
“Only that you’ve surprised me more than once today,” Reynold said. “Maybe I have less to worry about with you than I thought.”
Yvette still wasn’t sure what he meant. She decided to let it go. “Like I was saying, I can’t use her for this. Not unless I have every single one of them killed. And if I go that route, you’re right—eventually I’ll have no one left to—”
The sound of shattering glass stopped her words and her breath.
The bullet landed in the chair, millimeters from her flesh. She knew she should run, get on the ground, move, damn it, move. But she only stared at the tiny hole in the leather where the bullet had gone in. My father will be furious. He was always particular about this chair.
Reynold didn’t freeze. He leapt between her and the window—
Just in time for the second gunshot.
He toppled backward onto her lap. Hot blood soaked her legs. His eyes stared up at her. Empty. Unblinking.
There was a small hole in the center of his forehead. It matched the one in the chair.
That warm, slimy liquid soaking through her pants… it wasn’t just blood, was it? It was the contents of his head, spilling out of his body. She gagged.
He died for you. Don’t waste it.
Finally, too late, she remembered how to run.
---
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stay-mon-army · 1 year
Text
Love After Lock-Up
Warnings: reader went to prison, family disappointment/not accepting, implied violence
Word Count: 2,356 words
Pairing: Jinyoung (Got7) x gn!reader
Requested?: yes, by @crzy-devil​ - I hope this isn’t horrible, I’m so sorry it took me so long to complete. I’m also sorry I went off the grid for like months 😭
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Dear Jinyoung,
Life in prison is surprisingly dull! I have so much spare time to just think. I spend most of my time thinking about you and all our times together before I got into this stupid mess. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I can’t be with you now. I hope things are going good for you at home and you aren’t missing me too much. I’m going to be released soon, and I can’t wait to be home with you. Do you think you could pick me up? I want your face to be the first I see when I’m finally free to be with you again. Maybe we can go to a cafe and just talk. You can tell me all about what I missed while I was away. I miss hearing your voice and holding your hand. I mostly just miss being near you. I’ll see you soon, my love! Wait for me, I swear it’ll all be worth it soon.
Love,
Y/N
On the day of your release from prison, you couldn’t wait to see Jinyoung. He had written you back and promised that he would be there to pick you up. You collected your belongings from the guard at the front desk and make your way to the exit before you.
It’s an overcast day; the sun is hidden behind rolling clouds, but thankfully it isn’t raining. As you step out into the crisp fall day, you spot a black car, and leaning against it, the love of your life. You face breaks into a smile and you see his face mirror yours as he pushes away from the hood of his car. For a second, you can’t move. It had been months since you had seen him, and it felt like a dream to finally see him here, in person, smiling at you and waiting for you like some prince. You hardly deserved him.
You broke out of your frozen state as he steps closer to you. You throw yourself into his arms, holding onto him as he buries his head into your neck. He squeezes you close to him, and you feel him breathe deeply against your neck, trying not to cry. You both had missed each other so much, it was hard not to tear up as you’re finally able to hold each other again and feel each others love like this.
After a moment, you pull away, moving your hands from around his waist up to cup his face. You take a moment just looking over his face as he gazes down at you, his eyes wet and shining but full of love. Finally, you pull him down to place your lips against his gently, slowly, enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours again after so long. His lips are gentle against yours as well, not pushing or pressuring but slowly exploring yours, matching your pace. It feels new and fresh, but also so comforting and safe, like coming home after a long, uncomfortable work day.
Finally, you let go of each other and he steps back to open the car door for you. You slide into the seat, placing your small bag of personal items between your feet as he closes the door and rounds the car to get into the drivers seat. He slides into his seat, clicking his seatbelt into place and starting the car smoothly. You missed the gentle ease he had with all his movements, like everything came naturally to him. His smooth movements, his gentle air, his ability to simultaneously fill a room and quiet the edges of a growing tension— all of him was so unlike everything that you were. Everything was so effortless to him and your love for him was only made sharper as he seemed to cleanly sweep away all your dirty secrets, round out your abrasive edges, dulled any growing fires of rage — he truly made you a better person by simply loving you.
He turns to flash you a smile, one hand gripping the wheel as he drives, the other reaching over to rest upon your thigh. You didn’t even realize he had started driving but you look out the window now and see the scenery change as he takes you away from that horrible place.
“What are you thinking about?” God, you had missed his voice. You nearly melt in your seat, those months of fear and stress and discomfort washing away with just the timbre of his voice.
“How much I missed you.” You answer honestly, letting your hand drift to run gentle circles and twirls around the skin of his hand and arm that’s reaching across the center console to touch you. You glance over at his side profile as he drives; his sharp jawline, the line of his nose, the prominence of his lips. Now that you’ve got him back, you’ve decided to commit him to memory. You had no intentions of ever leaving him again, but today, you would drink in as much of him as you could to make up for all that lost time. “Where are we going?”
“You said we should go to a cafe and catch up, so I’m taking you to Belle Fleur.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling up as he hears your soft gasp.
“Where we had our first date. Jinyoung, you’re too sweet.” You tear up again, which you’re sure you’ll do a million times throughout the day. No doubt being with him again was going to have you emotional. Lord knows you had cried plenty while you were in jail because of how much you missed him.
He doesn’t respond, just flipping his hand over to hold yours as he smiles out the windshield as he drives. He never had to say much of anything for you to feel the love he had for you.
You drive in relative silence for a while, the only sound being the gentle music floating from the radio. You enjoy the silence; you didn’t get a lot of quiet time in prison, with so many other people crammed into such a small place with little privacy.
Finally, Jinyoung pulls into the parking lot of the sweet little cafe and he lets you go just long enough for you both to hop out of the car. He opens the door to the cafe for you and guides you up to the counter with a hand resting on the small of your back, protective and possessive, just what you loved about him. He wasn’t overly possessive by any means, but the small signs to show off that you belonged with each other made your stomach erupt into butterflies.
He ordered for you at the counter, memorizing your favorite order even after so long not hearing it. You try to hide your smile, a feeling of exaltation you’ve never felt before spreading through you.
He takes both of your orders and you lead the way over to a small table in the corner by the windows. You like getting to people watch— you used to spend hours with a good drink and some snacks, just watching people going about their normal days through the windows of a cafe, feeling small and yet complete.
Jinyoung sits before you, a smile on his face as he pushes your drink your way, takes his own, and settles the baked goods you had picked out between you on the table. You watch his movements quietly, just drinking in his existence for another moment. Finally he stops, turning his eyes back to you as he cups his hands around his coffee.
“So,” you say, settling back into your seat and bringing your drink up to your lips for a sip. “Tell me everything I missed.”
~~~
You spent hours at that table with Jinyoung, catching up on all the little things you both experienced over the last few months. You were surprised by how normal life continued to be for you both— that despite the weird place you had found yourself in, both of you were still alive and healthy and back together, and nothing bad had happened to either of you.
Finally, the store began to close and it was time for you both to leave. You didn’t have a place of your own anymore, so you had to find someplace to stay. However, before you could panic, Jinyoung offered to let you stay with him and his family for a little while, until you found a job and your own place. You had been talking about moving in together before everything had gone wrong anyway, so you didn’t think it would be weird or difficult. You loved each other; it was only natural that you would want to spend your time together.
You hadn’t taken into account, however, that Jinyoung lived with his family, who might have different thoughts on everything than you two.
When you finally got back to Jinyoung’s house, you were ready to collapse into bed and rest for hours. The rush of getting ready to see Jinyoung again and the adrenaline of finally being out in the real world again had worn off and you could feel your body growing sluggish and lazy.
However, as you entered the house, you could tell instantly it wasn’t going to be that easy.
You could hear the TV running in the living room as you and Jinyoung took off your shoes and slid into the slippers in the hallway. He places a hand on your back as you both enter the house, as though he also senses the way the air feels charged as you both pass into view of his family. His mother reaches for the remote, slowly raising it to mute the tv before them before sinking back into the couch, her face blank of any emotions.
Jinyoung leads you into the living room, his hand both a comfort and a guiding hand into the lions den.
“Mom, dad, you remember (Y/N). They’re going to be staying with us for a little while, until they can get back on their feet.” His tone is kind yet firm, meant to show respect to his parents but that he wouldn’t be taking criticism about the situation. You swallow, folding your hands before you in the hopes to look respectful as well. The last thing you need is to look like some heathen come to impose and make a mess of their lives. You just wanted to fix everything.
His father stands, back straight as a rod as he looks first over you, then his son.
“I will not let some miscreant live in my house. I can excuse your absolutely idiotic feelings for this felon, but I refuse to allow them to live under my roof.” His voice is void of emotions, nearly calm. And yet you don’t miss the slight shake in his hands, like he’s trying so hard not to throw something.
“Father-”
“No.” His mother cuts in now, also standing. “You will listen to your father. If you wish to waste your life chasing after someone who wishes to ruin both of your lives, that is your right, but you will not bring some heathen into our household without our permission. If your father says they cannot stay, then they cannot stay. That is final.”
“Then I will be leaving.” Jinyoung doesn’t bat an eye, but you do. You turn to him quickly, placing a hand to his chest, whispering his name quietly. He doesn’t look at you, however. He simply stands there, staring into his fathers eyes. “If you refuse to allow me to help (Y/N) in this household, then I’m moving out. I’ll get us an apartment somewhere. But know that I will not be leaving (Y/N) alone. They went to jail for me.”
“Jinyoung, stop.”
You don’t glance between him and his parents, seeing the way his mother straightens behind his father, whose eyes have darkened. You push gently on his chest, hoping to back him away from the situation. You will leave, you can figure something else out, he doesn’t have to ruin his relationship with his family.
“No, (Y/N), it’s time that they learn the truth. (Y/N) was arrested because they were defending me. The people they supposedly assaulted? They were harassing me, and when (Y/N) stepped in to get them to leave us alone, things escalated and (Y/N) did what they needed to keep us safe. The courts wouldn’t listen, but that doesn’t make them any worse of a person. They did what I couldn’t do.” He looks down at you, meeting your eyes for the first time since entering the house. “They saved me.”
You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Neither of you had talked about what went down that day. Neither of you wanted to think about the horrible things that happened, and the even worse things that could’ve happened if you hadn’t reacted so quickly.
His parents don’t move, don’t make a sound as you begin to cry into Jinyoung’s shoulder. That he would defend you now, after all this time defending him, broke your heart to pieces. He pulls you back to look into your eyes once again.
“I love you, (Y/N), and I won’t let anyone keep me away from you for another moment.” And with that he kissed you, in front of his parents, as though he wasn’t baring his very soul to you and them. As though this didn’t mean the world to you. As though he didn’t risk throwing away his relationship with his family for you.
“They can stay.” You almost don’t believe your ears, and by the time you turn around to face them, both of his parents have turned and are heading back towards their room.
You turn back to Jinyoung, your face softening as you see the grin splitting his face as though you had agreed to marry him.
“The truth will set you free. And now, you’re all mine.” He whispers, leaning in for one more kiss.
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bug-fics · 1 year
Text
S.H x reader
Just a short little blurb about summer and Autumn, and how you and Steve fell in love when love wasn't supposed to happen. A summer fling turned forever. Hopefully this gets me out of my writers block. 
I didn't edit it that much, so bare with any spelling mistakes. 
Warnings: nsfw themes, insecurity but no angst. No dialogue or anything like that, just 600 words of me rambling and trying to be poetic when I am not
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Summer was warm, it was beautiful and soft. It was sticky skin, fireflies glowing after the sun went down, it was yellow and orange, and all things pretty. Summer was for fun, it was the season to forget your worries and focus on the good times. Summer was all skin and sweat. It was clear waters and flickering campfires. Fluffy marshmallows, and melty chocolate. Summer was freckled shoulders and burnt cheeks. Steve Harrington was summer, he was beautiful.  But just like Summer, he wasn’t meant to stay with you forever. Why would someone like him to stick around for someone like you?
When the air hit your face, it smelled like the truth. You loved summer, you loved Steve Harrington. It's the season everyone missed when it was gone. It was comfortable, he was home. The warmth bleeding into Autumn was a reminder that he didn't love you, you were the one who fell, and you feared no one would be there to catch you. Because you weren't summer, you weren't Nancy, and you weren't warm. 
The balmy lake glistened, it was where you and Steve spent most nights, the sloppy kisses, lake water dripping from your lips to his. You loved how he sipped you gently and chugged you hard. It was never repetitive love with Steve Harrington, he made life enjoyable. He made summer worth it. Your favorite place was in his bed, curtains flowing with the breeze that swam through the open windows. Being with him made the heat of the world seem cool, bearable. 
Steve's home was in between your legs, cherry slushies and plush skin. The sweat was different, this heat was pleasurable, he devoured you. Peach lip gloss was his favorite flavor, the liquid seeping from your lips onto his skin, sticky and shimmery. You coated his fingers in milky love, the taste of summer had never been so delicious. 
You were Autumn, cool and crisp. Autumn was a time for family, it was pumpkin carving and apple cider. It was county fairs and funnel cake, the sugar reminded him of your taste. The days get shorter and colder, an excuse to get closer. Layered clothes to hide away from the cold, like you wanted to hide away from summer. Steve Harrington loved fall, he loved you because you weren't summer, you were home. Autumn represents change—the changing of the leaves, the changing of hearts. The warmth bleeding into fall was a reminder that he loved you, he was the one who fell and he wanted you to catch him. Yet, you weren't Summer, and you didn't love him. How could he expect someone like you to stay for someone like him? 
Fall was the time of the harvest, it brought fruit in from the land. Fall meant summer was blooming, it meant that summer had fallen in love. Because it was never just summer and never just fall. The seasons go hand in hand, they need each other to thrive, like you needed Steve Harrington's warmth and he needed your cool air to breathe. The deal was no strings attached, but the roots grew bountiful fruit, the juices spilling from your heart to his. Because you weren't summer, you weren't Nancy, you weren't warm, but you were his. He wasn't Autumn, he wasn't cool and crisp, but he was yours.
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silentmoths · 2 years
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a prompt : venti/reader but make it a hades/persephone AU where the (afab or gender neutral) reader is the hades and venti is the persephone 👀
ohohohoho So, I'll admit, this is not my area of expertise
enter, the wonderful, super smart and very kind @ainescribe who took pity upon my poor doofus ass and helped me brainstorm for this because not only have I not written venti in any real sense, but my grasp of greek mythology is loose at best (I was the egypt kid)
That being said, here you go friend, I hope I did your prompt justice! Venti X AFAB (fem pronouns) Reader
2k words, not proofread SFW, some angst, general hades/persephone kinda thing ig???
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Long had the winds left your lands.
Long had it been since you had heard laughter, or birdsong.
And then one day, a lyre pierces the void of ash you called your dominion.
And you fell in love.
Barbatos was as fleeting as a hummingbird, floating happily through the breeze like a dandelion seed. Seemingly never stopping in one place, but spreading joy wherever he went.
Even to you, the goddess of ash, trapped within your dominion.
Gods and Mortals alike feared the Mare Jivari, your home. A seemingly endless plain of ash and smog, there was no joy or laughter here, nothing but death and grey. 
Just as you were, cold, grey, bitter. 
You longed for change, you longed for the laughter and the joy the mortals afforded other gods, but who would ever wish to see the goddess of ash? You had heard the rumours, of course; your mere presence was apparently enough to suffocate.
Not to barbatos, who approaches like a little green fae, zipping around with an inquisitive giggle.
He smiles at you, it’s a childlike, playful grin as he plays his lyre and stirs up clouds of ash with his breeze, and for the first time in centuries, you felt a spark, some joy.
Some hope.
You have nothing to offer him in repayment for his song, but he does not mind. He hands you an apple, fresh and shiny red, with a wink.
And in another gust of wind, he’s gone, and you’re alone once more. However in his wake he has left something behind in your heart.
You start by gently slicing the apple, its flesh is juicy and sweet, the flavour brings a tear to your eye, and you salvage every seed, his song having stirred the want- no, the need to do something, anything. 
And so you retreat into your sanctum, and you begin working. Toiling and moving, planting each seed. 
Only one of the seeds sprouts.
But that one sprout is now your entire world. 
Every day, you diligently clear it’s area of ash, you water and care for it, you cannot sing, but you can hum; so you do just that, humming the tune the anemo archon had once played for you.
You watch, as this sprout turns to seedling turns to sapling, growing stronger and larger with the passing months.
Slowly, you finally begin to build your dominion around this tree, you fill the area with pretty things, shiny rocks and little windchimes, things you liked.
Things you hoped he would like. 
You construct a protective barrier around this place, it was your most sacred after all. 
You had lost track of how much time had passed, years most likely, but eventually your little apple tree finally began to bear fruit; just like it’s mother fruit, the first apple is large and red, shiny and crisp and it makes every moment of toil worth it. 
With that, you send out a call. After all, it was Barbatos who had gifted you the mother fruit, surely, he would want to see what had become of it?
You remain hidden, when barbatos does finally descend, his eyes wide and shining with curiosity as he flutters around your beloved tree; he does not see you activate the barrier, and is unable to escape before the magics fall into place, trapping him within.
Only then do you see his smile fall, and it hurts your heart watching him attempt to leave, sad aqua eyes finally resting on you as he presses a hand against the barrier.
“Why?” he asks, voice shaking and quiet as you approach, pressing your own hand against his, this was your barrier, you could come and go as you pleased.
“I just…want to be together with you…” even to you, your reasoning sounds so weak.
But even the flightiest of wild birds would soon settle into their cages…so too would barbatos.
Even though he does not sing, does not play his lyre, Barbatos, or Venti, as he had asked you to call him, is a much beloved pop of vibrance in your otherwise grey world.
He doesn’t really attempt an escape, he knows there is no pushing past your magics in your own domain, but he does sit, forlorn in your apple tree. He flutters about like a lost little bird, and he’s beautiful to watch. 
Occasionally he would join you for some wine and something to eat. You would ask him about lands beyond your domain, and slowly, but surely, he would speak about them, he would speak about the rolling golden mountains of liyue, or the fluttering pink petals that always adorned the air in Inazuma, and of course, he would speak of the beautiful blue skies of his home, Mondstadt.
He could describe in such vivid details things you had never seen, would never be able to see, for you could never leave your home, not unless you wished to spread your horrid ash wherever you went.
He spoke of the other gods, of Morax, the god of geo and contracts; always too uptight according to the god of freedom.
He spoke of Rukkhadevata and her cunning kindness, always willing to help another. Of Makoto and her twin sister, Ei.
“Do you think…do you think we could have all been friends?” you ask him one day as you hang a new wind chime from a low hanging branch “if I did not always cause such a mess…?”
Venti tilts his head at you, and for the first time since his arrival, he smiles.
“I think so.”
As fall turns to winter, there is a chill that bites the air, but you are safe within your domain, warm and happy.
Venti is happy too, more often you find him strumming his lyre with a contented look on his face, he joins you quite readily when you enter the barrier, helps you shift the buildup of ash from within the confines with a gentle breeze.
Here he too, was safe from the winters bite, of the cold that sends most birds into hiding. Here he could play and laugh and sing without fear.
He’s waiting for you one day as you approach, smile on his soft face as he holds out a hand for you; a gesture you’d not seen before. 
It’s…scary, reaching out and taking it, it almost feels sacreligious, for someone such as yourself to touch a god as pure as he, but his fingers curl around yours and pull you forward. 
Dancing, you realise; he’s dancing with you. Spinning and twirling in circles around the apple tree, he’s laughing, such a bright sound in such a dreary world, you close your eyes and let yourself imagine as he twirls and sings, imagine his home, the green grass and the lush trees, the smell of grapes and brewing wines.
“You look so pretty when you smile, you know~” he lilts after a while, and you realise he’d been staring. 
No one had ever called you pretty before…
He makes a habit of it after that, calling you pretty, finding new ways to make you smile, from little things like wanting to braid your hair, to telling stories and reciting poetry and prose with you.
He says you actually have a lovely voice, and he would love to duet with you. 
But all good things cannot last forever. 
As spring slowly shifts into it’s full blossoming warmth, you hear news that Barbatos’ most loyal friend, Dvalin, was on a rampage, searching for his god and harming innocent mortals and settlements in his wake. 
You know that Dvalin would never come looking here, and even if he did, he could not pierce your barrier…but those innocent mortals whose lives had already been lost weigh heavy on your heart.
Venti looks worried as you slowly sit yourself at the roots of the tree, he comes fluttering down, his gentle breeze rattling the wooden wind chimes as he comes to a rest beside you.
“What has you looking so sad all of a sudden?” He asks, and you do not withhold what you know, you tell him of Dvalin, a dragon raging across teyvat and harming innocent souls, you tell him of the pain in your chest, everything slowly but surely rising to a head as the realisation hits.
You could not keep barbatos here. You never could have, and you never should have. 
The tears well and spill across your cheeks as you sob apology after apology. You loved him, you loved his presence and his laughter and his eyes and his smile.
But he was a god with people relying on him, he was the god of freedom, that you had kept trapped here for your own selfish gain.
His warm hands slowly take yours, and lips carefully press to your forehead, he’s still smiling at you, he should not be, he never should have, and yet here he is.
“Oh little dove, don’t cry…we can sort this out..” he murmurs, how on earth were you meant to sort out this mess? Keep him here and let Dvalin wipe out the rest of teyvat? Or let him go and be lonely forever?
As if reading your thoughts, he flutters up into your tree once again before returning.
“It seems your love and care has produced some beautiful fruits….will you share this apple with me?” 
You look upon the red fruit in his hand, watch as he slices it and offers a half to you.
“Think of this apple as a promise. Every winter I will return to you, I will stay here with you until the spring blossoms are fully in bloom, and then I will have to go again…but I will always return…” you can feel the weight and the power in his words, spoken like a true god.
Even before you agree, you’ve dropped the barrier keeping him here all this time and his smile widens. 
The fruit tastes even sweeter than you could have imagined. Only made better by the small, but sincere kiss Venti places upon your trembling lips. 
“Thank you, my little dove.”
“You…you promise to come back?” 
Venti’s eyes crinkle slightly as his smile widens and he gently plucks a feather from the tassel of his belt, tucking it into the braid of your hair.
“I promise.”
He should have expected it, but it does not hurt any less.
For centuries, he kept his promise, coming back to the Mare Jivari, a land his people feared most of all, to spend the winter in the warm, loving embrace of the goddess of ash. Every time he arrived, she rushed to him with a warm shout and open arms, and every spring, when it was time for them to part, it was always teary, but there was never any frowns, just last moments spent in eachothers arms, sharing the first, ripe apple of the season. 
He should have known things could never last like this. His slumber had been long, longer than he’d anticipated, and as soon as he’d woken there was a new matter to tend to, his old friend and companion: Dvalin.
Rampaging, like he had when barbatos had gone missing the first time, but now he rampaged due to the poison infecting old wounds, manipulated by an order who wanted to control him and use him to quell the people. He could not let this happen to his oldest friend.
As soon as ‘Stormterror’ had been calmed, and his gnosis rather forcibly taken, despite it not being winter, he still makes his way, a small bouquet of cecilia flowers in hand and an apology for the years of missed winters on his lips.
So when he comes across a single, wilted apple tree, in the middle of a barren, ashen wasteland, no longer tended to, and with a marker of volcanic stone lodged into the earth by it’s roots; he knows.
That does not make the pain of his broken promise any easier to bear. 
taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe
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slurrmp · 2 years
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DAY ONE - ICE SKATING
                   it’s just you and the doctor. the others wanted to be                    home for the holidays but you wanted to go skating.                    so she took you to the one place you had been dying                    visit for ages. who knew she was such a good skater.
look this is posted a WEEK early, but i couldn’t help myself - i was excited. i hope y’all want to join the prompt list too! anyway, if you are wanting the atmosphere - 100% watch this video, or have it on in the background !! watch THIS video if you wanna know the walk that you and the doctor are taking x
words: 1895 warnings: swearing but other than that just you two being squishy
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"Shut up.” The words had tumbled out of your mouth as soon as you stepped foot outside of the TARDIS. “Shut up!” Your voice got higher and your hand reached out behind you, flailing in the air for a second, as you tried to find what you were looking for. Fingers finally managed to grip onto the fabric of the Doctor’s coat. “Shut the fuck up!” You tugged on her sleeve a couple of times and you heard the Doctor grunt, as she shut the TARDIS door behind her.
“I haven’t said anything yet - ” You turned around, the crisp, cool air had already started to make your cheeks red. You could feel your nose start to freeze. The amused look on the blondes face contradicted her annoyed tone at your choice of words. The Doctor thought that the look on your own face was worth getting smacked about a bit.
“Doctor - New York!” You had been begging for weeks to see New York City during Christmas. It had probably been one of your most requested destinations. “The New York!” The Doctor had scoffed at the suggestion early on. You want to visit the most human place in all of history - all of time - all of the galaxy? Yes. She had suggested New New New York City of the 35th century, they apparently had amazing Broadway shows, but you had declined. It had to be the 21st century or nothing. You had never experienced snow, you had also never been to New York City. It had to be special and it had to be during a time that you recognised, if anything just so you could show your parents the pictures.
“I know I said I wouldn’t -” The Doctor continued as she gently pried your hand off her sleeve, to loop your arm through hers. The others had wanted to spend the weekend with their families for Christmas, you KNEW that you could stretch it out for one more week - Christmas was always happening when you traveled with someone who owned a time machine - but you could feel yourself start to become exhausted. You needed a break soon. “But those puppy dog eyes you’ve been giving me...” You shoot her a look as the pair of you started off, moving away from the TARDIS and onto the footpath, the light snow crunching underneath your feet.
“They weren’t puppy dog eyes.” You grumbled. The Doctor huffed a laugh. You just realised that you had been wondering why she had suggested to wear the thickest coat you could find. Now you knew why, it was lightly snowing and it was the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen. You couldn’t take your eyes off the sky. “But look -” You eventually forced yourself to look away, other wise you’d be walking into everybody. Holding out your gloved hand, you watched as a thin layer of snow started to gather. “Actual proper snow.”
“Alright, just cause the last couple of times have been the result of debris -” You laughed tightening your arm around the Doctor’s, stepping in closer to her side, trying your best to not get in people’s way. It was then that you realised what the Doctor was wearing. Or lack there of. She was still wearing her coat, with a jumper and her scarf on. You still found it hard to believe that her coat was keeping her warm. But it was giving something off, as you kept getting closer.
The walk down Fifth Avenue was something. It had been a while since you had seen that many people in one place before. And here you thought your home town’s city was busy. That was nothing compared to New York. You clung onto the Doctor, who knew where she was going for once (didn’t even have her sonic out - seemed that it was finally a normal trip), as you let your eyes wander around the tall buildings. The Christmas lights were magical, the Cartier building was magical. You were lost in the lights and the sounds, cars honking, people laughing, talking. It was so incredibly human and you adored it. Passing monuments in their own right, the Doctor explained their history, which then would turn into her explaining an old adventure she had. Coming to a stop at the crosswalk just before St. Patrick’s Cathedral, you turned to the Doctor.
“Thank you for this.” Not once had your arm slipped from around hers and she hadn’t pulled away from you either. “I just - I don’t know, sometimes i just need to feel human.”
There’s silence for a couple of seconds, you caught her hazel eyes and she let a smile cross her lips. “Of course you’re human. You are 100 per cent human...” Your name slipped off her tongue. Your stare lingers on her face for a couple of seconds, only to be look away when a slight shiver rushed down your spine. You didn’t know whether it was the snow that caused it or something else. “So perfectly human.” A car honked just down the street a bit, a disgruntled yell followed and a few beeps of a siren. “So very human.” You snickered as the light changed and you took off from your spot, crossing the road. 
You ended up getting even more distracted as you continued to walk. Swerving in between people, listening to the Doctor speak about historic sights. Buildings that haven’t even been built yet, events that haven’t happened yet - all surface level though, she didn’t want to spoil your future anymore. You zoned out when you got to the building projecting a massive light show, that you didn’t even notice when you tugged away from the light show, down another street and you were practically on top of ...
“Rockefeller Center!” The yell escaped you before your brain even had a chance to catch up. People closest to you turned around to look (not a lot were judging stares surprisingly, but a few were), you didn’t care though, as you let go of the Doctor’s arm and practically flew towards the railing, leaning over the edge and looking down at the ice rink below. “Oh my god! Shut up!” Turning back around to face the Doctor, you realised that she had started to head towards the stairs that went down to the ice rink. “You didn’t -” You called to her, as you jogged slightly to catch up.
“I did.” She beamed, throwing up her psychic paper to the lady working the entrance, saying something that you didn’t hear as your eyes were focused on the massive Christmas tree in the centre. The lady stuttered for a bit, before speaking into her walkie talkie - which, when she got a muffled replied, she stepped aside and told the pair of you to go on through and have a nice night. “Heard you talking to Yaz the other day about always wanting to ice skate-” Still not sure whether it was the weather or her, but you felt your cheeks getting warm again. “So I thought, why not give you the best experience.”
-x-
While the Doctor had power, she certainly didn’t have enough to hire out the entire ice rink just for the two of you (she had said that if they had arrived during the construction of the rink she could have). But you really didn’t mind, there were only a handful of other people skating, an audience above and the soft music playing around you, it was probably the best way to experience it. Stumbling slightly, you held onto the Doctor’s hands as you pushed off the wall and onto the ice. “Of course you’re good at this.” You said as she skated backward, keeping her eyes on you. Moving one foot in front of the other, you tried your best to stay balanced, your fingers gripping onto the Doctor’s hands in a vice.
Your name came out in a rushed laugh from her lips - “I’ve been around the block a few times,” she started. “You pick up a few things here and there.” Letting go of one hand, which you protested slightly to, the Doctor moved to skate beside you. “There you go, don’t think about it -” She still had you, her body sliding a little closer, to avoid the people who were skating past you. “Just one foot in front of the other.” Eventually you got into it, into a rhythm that you really didn’t want to break yourself out of.
Holding onto the Doctor’s hand you went around the rink at least twice. Your smile hadn’t once disappeared off your face. It was probably the happiest the Doctor had seen you in a while. You managed to pull your phone out of pocket, take a couple of quick videos, a selfie or two with the blonde Time Lord before you had to put it away. Shakily, you got back into it and it wasn’t until about five minutes after that, that you realised the Doctor had let go of you completely.
Your heart leapt into your throat as you wobbled, arms held out either side of you, like you were t posing. “Uh Doctor!” You called out, brows furrowing low over your eyes. You tried your best to keep steady but it was your arms that were causing you to lose balance. Before your feet could slip out from underneath you, hands were placed on your waist.
“We really should have practiced -” Her voice sounded close to your ear. Your own hands snapped down to rest over hers, fingers gripping onto hers. “But you were doing well!”
“Yeah until I realised -“ You snorted. The pair of you found your rhythm once more and you could feel her body close behind yours. “Thank you -” You said trying to look over your shoulder. “For this.” The Doctor moved, taking your reached out hand in hers again, while one hand was still holding onto your waist. “A very special Christmas indeed.”
“Of course,” A squeeze of your hand. “Now -” She pulled away then, the cold air seeping into the parts of your body she had been touching before she started to pull you to the edge of the rink. Your legs were tired (sore), you had been skating for almost half an hour. Certainly longer than you thought you would last. The Doctor stepped off the ice and you followed suite, hand still tightly grasped in hers. “Hungry?”
A groan left you, as you began to untie your skates. “I’m fucking starving -”
“Oi.” A snicker left you.
“It’s true!”
“Alright, come on. I might have made reservations back on Fifth Avenue.” There was another groan. Your legs would protest the whole way back, but you knew the Doctor would keep you distracted. “Oi, stop complaining. It’s not that far of a walk.” Once your skates were given back and your shoes were replaced, along with your coat and gloves, the pair of you were back walking arm in arm. A part of you wished the others could have experienced this with you. But the more selfish part of you was glad that they weren’t here.
It was just the two of you spending Christmas, ice skating in New York City.
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hosannan · 10 months
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So. Here he is. At the banquet. Nowhere to escape. To his right are Nanna, Lord Leif, Lord Quan, and Lady Ethlyn. It is a formidable set of people whom he never did expect to see fully in his life.
Cold. His body is so very cold. It is not a winter chill but...there seems to be not a drop of warmth left inside of him.
How can he face his lieges like this? After having survived all these odds in the wars, he has become a shell of a man. Finn is not stupid. He knows it. He is no longer worthy to fight alongside and serve these people....
Yes. That is why he should have disappeared in the Aed desert, after leaving Lord Leif to take on the throne. Someone as disgusting as him has no right to be in the presence of such.....such magnificence. 
It's blinding. It hurts. It stuns him and makes him want to hide. And he knows he is a coward. For his long yearned for wish has come forward but he cannot even relish in it.
Finn turns to his daughter. At least she can stand him. Despicable or not, he can be himself around her. He raised her through the most difficult of times and nothing can take that away from him. They are not bound by blood but by choice. Just that gives Finn the tiniest glimmer of hope.
"Nanna," Finn speaks softly. "Are you ok at the party?" He knows she puts on a face. He knows she is the perfect princess. After all, Finn has always tried to protect her and failed. Nanna was destined for greatness. 
"Just stay by my side if you need to," he mutters. He couldn't deny that he missed her. "But if you want to have fun, go ahead."
Maybe....maybe that was enough to make him smile......just a little. 
She was trying not to look. It felt strange, to look over to her right and see her fiance's siloquette... eyes matching his mother's profile, and hairline nearly matching his father's. What was more was how overjoyed she was to see them all at the table—she had never dared to entertain that thought in the past. But now that it resided beside her, she felt at odds with herself... In many ways, she had hoped that this second coming of Lord Quan, Lady Ethlyn, and even Lord Sigurd would signal a second wave to her father. He had raised Lord Leif and herself on their stories after all... their legacies. He had raised her to be a princess, even without the crown. Somehow, in their glory, she had thought that he would be more... pleased. That he would embrace them, that he would cry tears worth his decades worth of service.
She thought that perhaps he would hit that sort of catharsis, for all the honor he spoke into their names. He was the last of their generation, after all.
But perhaps it was a matter of shock. A matter of time. A matter of... something. Something she could not fathom. He was like a message to the moon, a silent prayer with no real concern if it would answer him back. And now, it did, and it could. She gently parted her hands, to glide gracefully over his. A squeeze.
It had never once crossed her mind that her father was not her kin. Never.
Never.
Just that she needed him. She wanted him to see her. And in the years that came and went, it seemed like he had come to need her, too. But... that was simply her reading into things. Into his brows, into the fold of his lips, into the crisp way his cuffs were pulled. She had to read into things, even if she wasn't sure if they were truly smoked lines leading to fire.
"..." She smiled, not sure how to answer his first inquiry. Yes. Actually. Yes, she was fine. But in some ways, it felt like he wasn't.
She had more tact to utter nothing than to dig her father a deeper grave.
"Thank you, Father... Please, do stay by me. It has been so long since I've eaten supper with you."
Her eyes crinkled affectionately, crows feet made beautiful with love. "Do you remember the time I asked Lady Linoan to help me sneak a plate of turkey to your room to eat with you? I can't help but think how silly it was, to cry my way into getting to share a meal together." She derailed the conversation, fondly. "Oh! And the times we had in the barracks, squeezed two-by-two on those logs by the fire."
"I am in good hands."
She squeezed.
"The best."
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