#it’s to the point where if I meet another person who prefers summer. they whisper it to me like a dark secret | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

milstrim · 3 years ago

Text

Home Is in My Arms

Tony Stark had had a daughter.

Her name had been Penelope.

She had had superpowers.

And he hadn't seen her in four years.

The ten year-old had last been seen on March thirty-first, 2012. The day of the Chitauri invasion. Tony had seen her that morning, and he guessed he could at least be grateful that their last interaction hadn't been like his own with his parents. Instead of a fight that was never resolved, the two had giggled on the couch of the newly furnished tower, him and Pepper with glasses of wine and Penny with her mint milkshake. Pepper had side-eyed them exasperatedly, as though their laughs and jokes had been the worst ruckus anyone had ever made.

And then Coulson. And then Steve. And then Natasha and Bruce and a God he had learned about in history when he was younger. And then Loki and the Helicarrier and explosions that had left Tony's head ringing--but nothing had hurt more than the loss of his friend.

Everything had gone by so quickly, so desperately, there had been no time to do anything about anything except gear up and go. The biggest reassurance he had given himself was that his homework had caused Pepper and Penny to leave the city for a couple of days while the girl was on Spring Break. It meant they were safe from everything was about to happen, and that he didn't have to worry past New York.

And they had won. The Avengers had been formed under desperate circumstances. They had saved the world.

And Penny had been gone.

Pepper had left on the plane, but Penny had managed to convince her godmother that she should stay at her friend's house for a sleepover. The aliens hadn't even been able to make it past the perimeter and into Queens, but the hectic of it had been enough. Or maybe she had run off to help. Even at ten she was braver than he was. Better. And equipped with superpowers from a field trip's rogue spider that made her stronger than even Captain America.

But it hadn't been enough.

No body was ever recovered. No trace of her was ever found. No footage or DNA or witnesses. There was nothing. Nothing for him to even try and grasp onto what had happened to her. How she had died. The best anyone could do was assume that a Chitauri weapon had vaporized her and to try to grieve from there.

And by God did he try.

After the Mandarin and almost losing Pepper, he'd put in more effort than he ever had. He visited the grave where no body was buried, leaving flowers and trinkets and books he knew she would have loved. He talked. To people who had known her like he had. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and even Natasha.

The two had been so close when the woman had spied on him. Closer than he had been, still trying to change and learn to be a father better than his own after Afghanistan. He'd been dying and hadn't focused on anything but himself. About what he wanted to do before he was gone, instead of what would happen to his family afterwards.

So Tony tried. He tried a lot, but trying didn't always end in success. No, sometimes it ended in helicarriers made for HYDRA to control. Or a robot meant to protect only trying to destroy. Or in the fracturing of the Avengers, with Natasha and Steve on the run while the others sat in a max security prison that he spent every living moment trying to get them out of.

Except for now. Or maybe now too. Tony didn't know why Natasha had texted him. Only that she had betrayed him and texted only a couple of weeks later with a location out in Birmingham, England and nothing else but the message 'Get here quick.'

And he had. With nothing but a quick word to Pepper to keep Ross off of his aching back for a day, he'd stepped onto his plane and arrived in just over six hours. From there the billionaire had stepped into a waiting car and zoomed towards the address the spy had sent him, his heart racing just as fast as the vehicle's as he curved through city traffic.

Tony's thoughts strayed to Steve and Barnes and what had happened the last time he'd zoomed off to help his teammate. He swallowed down on his stuttering fear, reassured partly by the guantlet-watch sat snugly on his wrist and partly because he knew Natasha. Well, he knew her better than he ever had Steve anyway. Him and Natasha had fought, and there'd always been room for disagreements and anger, but at the end of the day they knew each other. And they were family.

The mechanic pulled up outside the run-down apartment complex, giving it a onceover before parking, pulling a baseball cap on low, and stepping out.

There was a drizzle, light and cold for the summer, even in England. He frowned, but only pulled his hood up with a shiver and stepped through the rusted metal gate, allowing him access to the first floor of apartments and a set of spindly stairs that he hoped didn't lead to any kind of locked door. He didn't exactly have a key, and Tony would prefer to not draw any attention to himself while here.

The man didn't need anymore grief from Ross. Not while he was desperate to pin something on Tony, and meeting with a violator of the Accords wouldn't exactly do much for his public image.

Biting on a sigh, Tony headed up the stairs towards the apartment number that Natasha had sent him. Thankfully, there was no locked door in his way, and the only person in the hallway that the stairs had led him to seemed to be much too out of it to pay him any mind. Quicker than he really would have liked, Tony was outside Apartment 9B, the number rusted and close to falling off of its hinges. Sucking in a breath, he knocked.

It only took a few seconds for the door to click! and then crack open just enough for him to catch familiar blue eyes and cropped platinum hair interrupted by a second lock's chain.

Natasha let out a short breath of relief, unlocking the door fully and opening the door just enough that he could slip inside. He glanced around the apartment once as she locked the door back up, surprised to see it was basically exactly what he had expected. It was small and old, orderly but not quite well-kempt, with evidence of past fights staining and fracturing the walls.

"Nice place," he commented. "Very runaway."

"Very last minute," Natasha responded. "It's not as easy as you think it is to get an apartment when everyone's trying to arrest you."

"You seem to slip away no matter what. By the way, how did you get away from Ross last week? I've got to know your trick on that, because I could use some pointers."

Natasha stopped beside him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. Despite his forcefully loose and nonchalant posture, Tony felt himself freeze up looking at the Avenger. Her expression, no matter what it was, had always been hard for Tony to discern when she was practically the perfect spy. But now, this smile--it was sad and joyful and regretfully guilty.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice dropping to something softer. Rarely sincere.

Natasha glanced away from him to stare at a door for a moment before glancing back at him. Her lips twitched and her eyes threatened tears in a way that he hadn't thought she would express to him.

She swallowed. "Penny's alive. And I found her."

Tony--

Tony didn't react. Not for nearly a minute. Instead he stared, his entire body stilling--even his damaged heart--before he seemed to come back to life all at once like a broken wound-up toy.

The man stumbled back a step, falling into the nearest gray wall. One lonely breath coming in in a strangled gasp as he willed for something--anything--to make sense.

"She's alive?"

Natasha nodded.

"How?" he demanded. "How--in England? From New York? There's no way anybody could've just taken her while I was--"

The man cut himself off, dragging in another wheeze that rattled through his entire chest. His legs began to collapse under him, but his friend caught him, managing to maneuver him onto the floor slowly. Tony leaned against the wall as Natasha sat beside him, her head propped up against the wall beside him.

Neither said anything. Not for a few minutes at least at Tony's shaking and gasping ebbed. Not until he could force out images and nightmares of Penny his mind had tortured him with for years. He locked them in a box and dropped it in an ocean of useless thoughts, because his daughter was alive. Because she wasn't dead and none of it--a painful death full of fear and confusion while Tony was only blocks away that he had been tortured by for years--had ever happened.

Natasha spoke up when he'd finally managed to take in eight consistent breaths.

"I was raised in the Red Room," she started. "I was taken from my family and tortured for years. I tried to make a family there, and I did. For a little bit at least. But that family was taken too, replaced by the only world I had ever known. One based on pain and dictated structure. A cruel trick to play on a child, but it was normal for the Red Room. What wasn't normal was me not only succeeding more than they had ever dreamed, but succeeding past them. Escaping and deserting. Killing Dreykov was the last step of my defection to SHIELD. It was revenge and justice all at once. The others would be freed and I could clear out my ledger in a life I chose."

She swallowed, taking a moment.

"I failed. I failed and I didn't know." Natasha turned from staring ahead at the wall to stare at Tony. Suffering blue met broken brown, tired and guilty reflecting. In a whisper, she said, "Dreykov lived. He lived until a week ago. And the Red Room, and every Widow in it, lived under him."

Tony was touched to be trusted this much. To be trusted with even a sliver of what his friend had gone through in such a time of suspicion and betrayal. But he was scared. He was terrified, because Natasha never shared just to share. Everything she said had a point, a reason, a direction.

He tore his eyes away, shoving a hand over them and letting his head drop onto his knees. Unwillingly, he croaked, "No... Nat, please don't tell me--"

"Penny's a Widow."

Tony bit his lip, chewing on his cheek so harshly there was the tang of blood in his mouth. He took a moment, letting his head fall against the cracked and stained cement wall. Penny was alive. And she had been trained--no. Natasha's descriptions, however few and miniscule they had been, could not be described as simply training. Penny had been tortured. For four years. And what had he done but grieve and give up? If only he'd known. If only he'd found out sooner.

Natasha continued.

"The Red Room..." She took a breath and licked her lips. "After I escaped, they changed their whole system. Their method. How they hid and how they trained and--and how they controlled the women."

Something about the way Natasha said the last part sent a cold feeling down his throat.

"What did they do to her?" he croaked.

"They um...well, for lack of my understanding of it, they mind controlled her."

"They--Nat what? How would they even--"

"They controlled the brain’s neuropathways through external manipulation," came a new voice, their accent thick. Tony whipped his head around to stare at a woman he had never seen before. Like Natasha, she wore a regular hoodie and sweatpants but still looked as though she could take his life in less than a minute. There was an intensity about her, from her stance to her tied back hair to her ghostly blue eyes that stared at him suspiciously. "It was based off of blueprints for the Winter Soldier. Me and Natasha were part of the mission to retrieve them when we were young."

Despite the insanity of every new piece of information shot his way, he managed to piece it together in his head quickly enough that he opened his mouth to respond with a snapped remark, but Natasha managed to speak before he did.

"What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be looking after Penny."

"I was, but then I heard how badly you were explaining everything and I came to help." Natasha glared. "Relax. I finished braiding her hair and now she's pretending to be asleep so she can listen to everyone talking."

The last part was said with a pointed look down the narrow apartment hall, but everything after Natasha had said "Penny" didn't seem to make sense anymore.

"She's here?" he asked, already scrambling to his feet. He glanced between Natasha and the woman desperately. "Penny's here right now?"

"We found her yesterday," Natasha answered cautiously. "Me and Yelena just started to free the Widows deployed around the world. We managed to give her the antidote during a shootout in Estonia. After that a friend of mine managed to get us here."

"A shoot--is she okay?"

"Just a couple of burns," Yelena said. "She may be enhanced, but she still has plenty to learn. She could still kick your ass, though."

"Thank you. Truly," Tony said, a bite of sarcasm to his voice, before turning back to Natasha, his desperation bubbling. "Which room?"

"Tony, I don't think you need to just go bursting in there. Let me--"

Tony stopped listening, every word his friend was saying dying out on his ears as he spotted a brunette and wide brown eyes poking around the corner over Natasha's shoulder. He felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes clicked.

Penny had grown. She'd sprouted almost an entire foot from the short ten year old she had been, awkward and gangly limbs that the girl had always seemed to struggle with were replaced by obvious muscle and carefully controlled movement as she stepped out from behind the wall, their stare still holding. Despite the sharper angle of her chin and jaw, she still held baby fat in her cheeks that dwindled the look of her down by a couple of years, not helped at all by the familiar roundness of her deeply brown eyes.

He swallowed. His voice broke.

"Penny?"

—-

“Penny?"

It had been years since Penny had seen her dad. Since she'd heard him. Anything about her father not privy to missions had been carefully shielded away from the teenager for years. Sometimes on the few missions she had been sent on she would catch news clippings and pictures on TV channels before she had to move on or that terrible voice in her mind would force her to ignore him. But, despite the scarcity of which she was allowed to know about her father, she had always thought about him.

Penny had swam in her memories whenever she could. Whenever she needed. She'd think about the games she and her dad had used to play. About lessons he'd taught her and days they'd spent together. About hugs and braided hair and kisses to her head. The memories had felt faint and washed away underneath everything, but she'd clung to them like a lifeline.

That being said, she hadn't expected Dad's voice to sound like that. For him to look like this. He was always so put together in her mind--so strong--even when he was messy from the lab or tired from a long day of work, always accompanied by fond child-like adoration. But now he didn't look it.

There were bruises on his face, faint but still noticeably purple. His hair wasn't as dark or thick as she remembered, growing back just a little higher on his hairline, and more lines grabbed and pulled at his face. But that wasn't what ruined her memory of strength and warmth, people aged after all, that was just reality. It was the expression on his face and glossing over his eyes. It was the way he'd said her name, so unsure and weary.

Penny, finally, looked away from Dad, instead glancing over at Yelena and trying not to look like she was too desperate for help. Yelena stared back, raising her brows and gesturing to Tony with a slight nod of her head, as if telling her to not be a coward. But Penny didn't know how to do that. Not now.

Thankfully, Natasha took over.

"I'm going to go get us some dinner. Yelena?"

Okay, so not the kind of help she'd been looking for.

Yelena gave Penny one last glance, nodded, and then followed the Avenger out of the door.

The door clicked shut and then it was just father and daughter.

"Penny," he tried again.

She hid a flinch at how small and tired his voice was, how broken he felt standing only feet from her. She hid her shock and her fear and apprehension exactly how she'd been taught, schooling her features into something easy and bored. She let her shoulders drop and her posture loosen, but the hardest part was hardening her stare. That had always been the biggest complaint of her handlers. Her senses had been sharp but her expression always so readable by her eyes.

"Hi, Dad," she said, her voice cool and casual on default. The words felt terrible leaving her lips, so she crossed her arms in an attempt to feel more stable. "It's been a while."

He chuckled, short and sad. "Yeah. You could say that."

And then there was silence. It trickled in, slow, awkward, and tense between them. Penny tried not to let it get to her, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't tired and disappointed. When Yelena had smashed the antidote beside her, it was the first time the teenager had seen clearly in a long time, and her first thought had been of her Dad. There had been worries about if he missed her and if he'd been okay, but a fear had stabbed at her so strongly that she was still thinking about it.

Would he still love her? After all she'd done? She had hurt people. She had killed people. Not in defense. Not in good reason. But in fear and control.

"I, uh..." Penny blinked at her dad's voice, beating away her thoughts and instead focusing back on the bruised and stuttering man in front of her. "Sorry. I would've thought of something better to say if I'd known I was going to see you again. Maybe some presents too. Do you still like those peanut butter cookies?"

"The ones we used to make?" she asked. "With the Hershey Kisses?"

"Those are the ones."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had them since I was with you."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess you wouldn't have..." he trailed off, glancing down for a moment. She stared at him, watching his expression carefully as he loosened and looked back up at her. "Well, we can't make them again? At home?"

"Sure. Sounds fun."

Penny couldn't stand how dull her voice sounds, like she couldn't care less about something that really made her want to cry in happiness. But...she didn't know what else to do. What to say. The Red Room had made sure she always knew what to do and what to say, but that had been for politicians and businessmen and people she was supposed to trick. She didn't want to trick her dad. She just--she wanted to--

Dad stepped closer, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down in a deep and concerned frown. She kept a wary eye on him as he approached, trying to force down feelings of apprehension and fear that she had become familiar with whenever anybody was in her space. But he stopped about a foot short, his reached out hand halting just away from her face as he whispered, "Oh, piccolina. It's okay." His voice broke. "It's okay. I'm gonna make sure it is... I promise."

And finally she broke.

And it hurt. It really, really hurt.

Penny leaned her cheek into his open hand as hot beads of tears caught on her eyelashes, allowing for Dad to cup his other hand around the back of her head and tentatively pull her in. It took the teenager a moment to adjust, so wired on the need to fight and never let her guard down, but then she just--crumpled.

Like a switch had been flicked, Penny buried her nose into his neck and wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze, swallowing down tears. Dad pulled her in tighter, his nose pressed into her tightly braided crown.

And then he sobbed.

It was a strangled, inhuman kind of sound that rumbled from his chest to escape the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed, but Penny wasn't an idiot. She could still hear his heart thumping and feel a tear slip from his chin onto the back of her neck. It all shocked her, but the sound found itself ringing in her ears painfully more than anything.

She flinched in his hug.

"Oh, Penny. I'm so sorry," he apologized, his voice sore with tears. "So, so sorry."

"For what?" she asked. "Not finding me? You wouldn't have been able to, Dad, even being you. Draykov made sure of it."

"I don't care. I should've done something! I should've--I should've--"

"Dad." He fell silent as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms back over her chest as she came back to her training. Dad stared at her, his dark copper eyes as guilty as she felt. "Please, just... Don't be sorry. Because I'm sorry, and if you're sorry then we're both sorry and we can't both be sorry it's--"

"What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Penny--"

"I'm not ten anymore, Dad. I don't think I'm even a kid anymore... I've--I've done too much harm. I have a lot to be sorry for."

Dad stared at her, a familiar sadness in his eyes. He chewed his cheek, brows furrowed in thought, and she was brought back to a time when she would watch him solve problems in the lab, or try to answer one of her inane questions that she never seemed to be able to stop asking.

"Let me ask you something," he started. "Do you think I'm a bad person? That I'm at fault for losing you?"

"No," she answered immediately, because her dad had always tried, no matter what. She'd known he wasn't perfect, and that a lot of people hated him for the mistakes he'd made, but she'd always known how much he really cared. How much he really cared and tried for the world. For the Avengers. For her.

"Well, then what makes you a bad person? What makes you not a kid anymore?"

Penny could only stare. She could only answer, "I've hurt people."

"I know. And I have too. But you don't think I'm a bad person, so you're not a bad person either. And what about Nat? Or your new very scary friend?"

"I forgot how much I hated arguing with you," she deadpanned.

"'Trying' to argue with me," he corrected, a smile pulling at his face. Surprisingly, she managed to smile back. Even more surprisingly, it didn't feel fake. Sure, it was small and tired, but Penny couldn't remember the last time she'd actually smiled. "See? Everything's going to be okay."

"How do you know?" she asked. "I'm a violator of the Accords. If it ever gets out that I was part of the Red Room--what I did for the Red Room--almost nothing could keep me out of prison. You'll have to explain how you found me and it would make you a violator--"

"I'll handle it," Dad said. "I always handle it. And just because you don't feel like a kid doesn't mean you aren't one. There are protections for you. And we found protections for Nat. Wanda too, if she would've taken them." He muttered the last part under his breath, the words emotionless but regret and guilt clear in his eyes. He cleared his throat and looked back at her with a raised brow. "And how do you know about the Accords? Do they have a current events class in the Red Room?"

"We do actually have to keep up with some events for missions. But, no. I've been reading old newspapers. Did you know you were on the front page for almost two weeks in June?"

"No. Nobody reads the paper anymore. Unless you're a dinosaur anyway."

"Uncle Rhodey likes the paper," she said with that still small but still real smile. "For the crossword puzzles."

"Yeah. Like I said: Dinosaur." With that, the jokes seemed to slide away as he took on a more serious tone. "But I'll handle it. I've already been trying to handle the Accords. You'll be safe, and free, at home, Penny. I promise."

"I can really come home?"

Dad paused. "Did you think you wouldn't?"

Penny shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to. I want to. But I just... I didn't know how safe it would be, and I know how to live by myself. How to avoid suspicion. I was...I was prepared for other options."

"If you were planning on running, why did you meet with me?"

"I don't know," she said. But truthfully, there had been a hole in her heart. A knot in her stomach. She'd just--she'd needed to see her dad. To apologize and let him know she was okay. She'd missed her family for so long, she had to imagine they'd missed her too. In fact, Penny had wanted nothing more to know they'd missed her. That those years in the Red Room wondering where her family was hadn't been because they didn't care.

Realistically, Penny knew Dad had missed her. Had loved her enough to grieve and look for her, but being there for so long--so terribly long--had been enough for seeds of doubt to sprout and root itself in her mind. But the teenager didn't tell her dad that. That would make him upset, and Penny was tired of being upset. Instead, she said, "Just missed you. Wanted to know that you're okay."

"Well, now you're gonna know every day," he said. "And you're going to know that Pepper is okay. And Rhodey and Happy. And you're never going to miss us again."

"Never?"

"Nope. Well, maybe when you go to school. But we can homeschool if you would prefer that. Would you?"

"Oh, uh, I don't--"

"Yeah, never mind. You don't have to know right now," he said with a wave. Then he smiled at her again, that genuine smile that squinted his eyes and pulled at his wrinkled laugh lines. "Right now, why don't we just go home?"

"Yeah," she said. And suddenly no other thought occupied her mind. Home was all she could think of. Of tall New York skyscrapers and the bustling city. Or maybe they'd go back to Malibu, even if his house was gone. Either way she'd see her uncle again. And Pepper. And Happy, who were all family to her. Family she hadn't seen in so long. "Let's go home."

Dad smiled, his eyes misty. Penny smiled back, taking his hand and leaning against him in another hug. He readily accepted, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

The best part: Nothing about him whispered danger. Or discomfort or uneasiness. There was just...comfort.

Just home.

It was the best feeling in the entire world.

—-

“Should we tell Uncle Rhodey we're on the way?"

"Nah. He loves surprises."

"He hates surprises."

"Exactly!"

Penny laughed. And the sound, the feeling, was just like home.

#peter parker #tony stark #female peter parker #irondad #irondad and spiderson #iron man fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

70 notes · View notes

unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years ago

Note

More jealous Cassian please😭 I loved the last one with tarquin, so it does not necessarily have to be jealous Cassian, maybe just Nesta and tarquin friendship and their shenanigans (with Feyre ofc)

Alright everyone here it is! Pt 2 of Nesta taking herself a damn vacation in the summer court (aka me writing the fantasy life I personally would be living if I was made Fae… hot take but Summer > Night for me I just love the water and sun!!)

Nesta might never go back to the Night Court, she decided. She decided this laying on the top deck of Sunchaser, Tarquin’s sleek and luxurious personal yacht. It was considerably smaller than the massive party barge he usually took guests out on, but faster and infinitely more comfortable.

She thought about never returning to the imperially beautiful city of Velaris as drops of turquoise water skidded off of her body and were absorbed by the plush royal blue towel she’d draped over her lounge chair. Soft as cashmere but insanely absorbent. Some special fabric Summer inventors had woven into existence. She’d already stolen countless robes made out of the material, and yet, every time she came to visit there was a fresh one laid out in her chambers.

Not so long ago Nesta had thought she was too dark and twisted and broken to exist in any court, even the one her sister ran. And now she had dedicated rooms in three different courts.

“I think this is my favorite court, Quin.” Nesta sighed as the High Lord of Summer waved a hand and her glass refilled. She took another sip of the slushy beverage that tasted like salt and lime and summer sun.

“You’re only saying that because I pamper you when you come.” It was true, in the years that Nesta had been using Summer as an escape, she and Tarquin had struck up a somewhat unlikely friendship. He’d remembered her speech in the High Lord’s meeting during the war. She remembered that he’d been one of the only people in the room who seemed to genuinely care about the humans. They could spend hours in the sun or with a bottle of wine well past dark discussing the best ways to shake up the entrenched systems of inequality that ran rampant through Prythian.

Tarquin wanted to change tbings. And he had already started in his own Court. He didn’t just talk. He acted. Nesta admired that.

He did go on about how complicated equality could be or the many reasons why certain citizens were living a better life in his court than others. He identified the problem, talked through a solution, and implemented change. It was refreshing.

“Helion pampers me too,” Nesta commented breezily in response.

“That’s because he wants to sleep with you. I merely ask for access to your brain in return for a place to escape.”

“Hmm,” Nesta hummed, “You ask for more. My brain is worth far more than my body.”

Tarquin nodded, “why do you think I pay you so handsomely with private tours of Dolphin Cove?”

“I believe last time I came, when I helped with the new tax system, I was promised I’d get to see a mermaid.”

Tarquin smiled, white teeth glittering in the sun. “Before you leave we will find one, I promise. They are such elusive, private creatures. Some put on diving gear and chase them beneath the waves, but I prefer to wait for them to surface. To see them when they wish to be seen.”

“You are a prince among swine, Quin.” Nesta swallowed, thinking about the males and men who cared not whether beautiful things wanted to be seen or touched when they reached for them.

“I do try. When is Cassian back from Illyria?”

Nesta smirked, “last night.”

“What a terrible mate you are, not being there to greet him.” Tarquin’s voice lilted up in a mock outraged tone that sounded a bit too much like Nesta’s youngest sister.

“I’m sure he will find a snowball fight or something to entertain himself.”

“You love that he’s in agony right now,” Tarquin laughed, stepping back behind the boat’s wheel to begin moving them towards shore. “You love making him jealous.”

“I love reminding him what he has and making sure he doesn’t take it for granted.”

“He doesn’t,” Tarquin smiled softly, just the tiniest fleck of pain shooting through his eyes. “He looks at you like the stars are caught in your eyes.”

“How very Night Court of you,” Nesta teased.

“It seemed apt.”

As the little boat pulled into the harbour, Nesta wrapped herself in the linen dress she’d been wearing before she jumped into the water

And accepted Tarquin’s hand to help her into the dock.

“High Lord! High Lord!” A paunchy little man that Nesta recognized as the most panicky of Tarquin’s advisors rushed up the gangway and came to a huffing, puffing, halt in front of them. “There has been a security breach!”

Nesta and Tarquin locked eyes, and Nesta’s hand was reaching for Tarquin’s once again before he could even set it to his side. Winnowing them both back to the Summer Palace.

“Where is the-”

“Cornelius was being dramatic as per usual,” Varian sighed, waving his hand. “Security breach is a bit of a strong word. I’d say… unwanted guest.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, “Cassian you are banned from this court!” She yelled even though she couldn’t see her mate. She knew it was him.

“About that,” Cassian sauntered into the room from behind a billowing curtain. “I’ve decided that since this city would be sunk into the ocean without me I am no longer banned from it.”

Nesta stared. Tarquin gaped. Varian laughed.

“You are still banned.” Tarquin said in his best High Lord voice.

“Cassian what game are you playing here?”

“Me?!” Cassian flung his arms out dramatically “I’m the one playing games? Listen, it’s one thing when you’re pissed at me and come here to punish me. Fine. I can take that. But when I come home after a whole week in Illyria and you’d rather be jumping into tidal waves with Mermaid man and Barnacle boy,” Cassian waved a hand to Tarquin and Varian, “that’s where I draw the line.”

Nesta put her hand on her hip. “You draw the line? As if my actions, where I go, who I spend my time with, are a decision for you to make?”

“Never said that. Just said that I’ll be there too.”

Nesta rolled her eyes.

“I missed you,” Cassian used the broad side of his wing to shove Tarquin out of the way and circled his arms around Nesta’s waist. “Come home, please?”

Nesta sighed, let herself get caught up in his puppy dog eyes and lean her head on his broad chest. She let him wrap a wing around her and waited until she felt him smirking against her hair to whisper, gently into his chest, “No.”

“Cruel!” Cassian accused.

“Go take a steam with Azriel,” Nesta snickered.

“That where your mind’s at, huh Nes? Come home with me and we can-”

“Banned!” Nesta pointed at her mate, a smile tugging on her lips. “You are banned, Cassian.”

“Banned from being happy, apparently,” he muttered like a kicked dog.

“Oh let him stay, Tarquin waved a hand. Cassian perked up, grinning madly.

“Traitor!” Nesta accused.

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic.”

#nessian #drabbles open #nesta archeron #nessian fanfiction #tarquin #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acosf #acotar

107 notes · View notes

futurewriter2000 · 3 years ago

Text

Little Secrets - pt. 3

A/N: I had been writing this for days but I really love the idea of where this is going. Lol. Also, I would like to thank @barkermarkersharker for the lovely idea that I just had to use. Also, this will be more than a three part I guess.

Your father has been dragging James on all sorts of social gatherings all week. He has been excited but also exhausted. He had come home only to eat and sleep, except on Wednesday. That day he went hiking with Sirius before collapsing into his bed.

A rough week for James Potter but it was Saturday and he will soon be home. Sirius and you had been getting along well. You haven't been holding any sort of grudge towards James but you had your moments where you mentioned some sort of remark of the whole keeping you a secret thing.

Now that he is free this week, he can finally help you and Sirius bond.

He came home with a smile on his face, excited that his week of torture was over. He dropped his bag on the hall and ran up stairs. He barged into his room to find Sirius but he was nowhere in sight. He than ran into your room and you weren't there either.

His brows furrowed, his lips turned down and he ran back to the kitchen. "Hey mum." he said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and grabbed a fry from the bowl. "Where are Sirius and (y/n)?" he asked, sitting down on the chair and looking at the porch, thinking he will maybe see them there.

"Well, they're at the beach, honey." his mum said, furrowing an eyebrow at him. "I thought they told you?"

"No." he replied, a bit disappointed at the answer.

"Well, it was all last minute. (Y/n) woke up earlier than usual and at breakfast both with Sirius decided to go to the beach with some of her friends." she smiled, thinking to that morning. "You and your father were already gone but you two should have seen them together. We were all laughing so hard this morning. They even invited me to come but I said no because what would me be doing there at the beach with all them youngsters." she continued to smile brightly. "They were both so persistent that I really thought they wanted me to come- do you think there could actually happen something between them?" she asked out of curiosity, looking at James.

James however, choked on his fry and started to cough. "What?"

"Sirius and (Y/N). They seem to get along so great. Like they're meant for each other and I wouldn't mind Sirius becoming my son in law. And imagine what gorgeous babies would they have together."

"Oh! Mom!"James stood up, laughing but feeling horrible inside. "Please, stop. (Y/n) is not a wizard and Sirius is. Even if they do get along, they are both meant to live in two completely different world." he started to get a bit agitated, pouring himself a glass of lemonade.

"We all live in two different world, James. If it wasn't for (y/n), your father and I and you wouldn't know about certain, amazing things about Muggles."

"Yeah but!" he turned around, raising his tone and opening his arms to explain something he couldn't even explain to himself yet. "No. No... they're not..."

"I think there is something between them." your mother smiled, meanwhile James only glared at her. "You don't get along with a person that well and think of it as just friendship."

But you liked girls! - James wanted to scream but knew he couldn't have outed you to his parents. You've always preferred girls over guys, anyway. He only remembers one guy from your whole life that you had had an interest in. All the others were girls.

You can't with Sirius. He's... and you are just not right for each other. Just not!

Your mother could see the injustice James felt in his bones right now. He was frustrated with the idea of you and Sirius together. She tried soothe the tension in the air, turning to James and telling him. "Why don't you go to the beach as well? Meet (y/n)'s friends."

"I already know them mum." he pouted.

"You know of them, James. There's a difference. There's nothing wrong with having Muggle friends."

"I know it's just... what am I supposed to tell them if I can't mention magic at all? Like what do Muggles even talk about?"

"There is more to life than just magic, James." was all what your mother said back.

---

James didn't dress much to the beach, since it was quite windy, as per usual. He wore his usual white jeans with a brown belt, white T-shirt and a jean T-shirt blouse with rolled sleeves. He was walking through the beach to find you and Sirius but the two of you were running around like two wild beasts, laughing so loud he could spot you from a mile away.

You were piggy back riding Sirius and he was running from towards a small group of friends. There were another couple, racing the two of you.

The two of you obviously ran. If Sirius was anything athletic, he was fast. That boy ran from every single Prefect, Head Boy, Head Girl, Professor, wolf-Remus, odd forest monsters and Filch in that school. Of course, the two of you won.

He threw himself, and you, on the blanket, both rolling and laughing as well as cheering.

"HELL YEAH!" you raised your palms in the air as Sirius high-fived them both.

"Why are you panting? I was the one carrying you and running."

"Hey, this was a two people effort. I was your moral support up there." you smiled and all of you laughed before Sirius eyes darted to the approaching figure and his smile suddenly fell, then rised up again.

You turned to look and saw your brother approaching the whole lot of you with a faint smile.

"BROTHER!" you jumped to your feet and ran towards him.

"Don't hug me! Don't hug me!" he started to avoid you by running backwards and putting his hand up. "Stay away from this fit."

"Really?" you glowered at him, then kicked sand at him.

"You rat!" he shouted and started to chase you, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you up.

"PUT ME DOWN! NO! NOOOO!!!" you screamed and laughed at the same time because you knew what he was about to do. "You'll wet your shoes!"

"Not if I throw you." he laughed.

"You don't have the strength."

"But I have magic." he grinned and you gasped.

"You prat! You wouldn't."

"Ready?"

"Please don't. DON'T! JAMES!!" he was getting closer to the water, laughing.

"You'll get to clean the dishes for the whole month and the bathroom when it's my turn."

"A WHOLE MONTH?!" you exclaimed. "Hell no! Throw me into the sea. I don't care." you stopped resisting and he let out a laugh, taking a few steps forward and just dropping you into shallow water.

---

You had returned back, completely wet and cold. You grabbed the extra blanket from the ground and plopped yourself down, glaring at him.

"I will murder you when we come home and I will bury you next to Minki."

"Then you'll really have to clean the dishes and bathroom every month."

"I don't care." you turned your head dramatically, before laughing with him.

"Here." said James and gave you his red sweater.

"Thanks." you said ,grabbing it, taking your wet shirt off and putting it back on, later taking off your soaked bra under it. "Thank God, it's summer." you praised under your breath, leaning back on your arm and looking around, seeing both of your friends making googly eyes at your brother.

"So how was the meeting Jamie?"

"Dull." James mimicked your position. "Sooner than later, you realise that all the gatherings and the meetings and the parties have the same system. Talk about old friends and family first, turn to business and end with something like; we'll keep in touch."

"You had your fun then." Sirius smiled but looked at you when he did.

"Any lassies you caught your eye on?" you asked, looking at your friends from the corner of your eye.

"If you didn't come with dad on these gatherings, what makes you think other lassies did?"

"A question, brother. No need to get fussy about it." you said as you wanted to change the subject but Sirius caught you to it.

"OH MERLIN! A PIG!" he shouted and got on his feet. "It's a pig!" he started to jump excitedly.

"Sirius don't you even think about it..." you said but he was already running towards it, scooping the baby pig into his arms and starting to pet it. An old man approached him and the next thing you knew, Sirius was giving the man money, over-excited for the little pink being in his arms.

He ran back to the group and lifted the animal in his arms. "I got a pig!" he said like a little boy who had got himself his first toy.

"Oh my, God."

---

"I like the name Arnold." you said as you continued to pet the little pig next to Sirius, cooing at him.

"For the thousandth time. HER name is Treasure."

"I'll call you Arnold." you said at the pig as it smiled at you and bumped her nose at your fingers.

"Treasure!" he pulled the pig closer and kissed her forehead. "Don't you listen to her, Treasure. She wasn't the one who took you in, she doesn't get to name you." he glowered at you and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Meanwhile James was walking behind the two of you this whole time. Your mother was right. The two of you did get along great, even better than usual and he felt excluded from his two best friends.

And the worst part was that the two of you didn't even notice it. The two of you didn't notice how miserable he was- that was such a selfish thought. He should be happy that the two of you were getting along.

He was arguing with his mind.

"So, Jamie!" you ran back to him and wrapped your arm around his. "You are the tie-breaker. Arnold or Treasure?"

James let out a laugh. "How about Mum-will-kill-you-two?"

"Don't be buzz kill, Prongs. It's Treasure because I had found her and she is the biggest treasure in my life."

"He's turning into mum." James whispered to you but loud enough for Sirius to hear him and narrow his eyes at the two of you.

"Oh, darn. Dad's got two of them now." you started to joke.

"Hope Euphemia won't get jealous." James continued as the two of you snickered.

"Dad's gonna go bankrupt. Has to buy another ring. Should we call you mother now, Sirius?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

He put the pig down and pointed at the you and James. "Treasure. Attack!"

But Treasure just sat on her bum and gave Sirius googly eyes.

"Awww!" he scooped her back up and waddled her. "We should go shopping tomorrow." he smiled at the two of you. "I want Treasure to keep up with fashion."

"Buying her a leather jacket and a curly, black hair wig?"

"Don't you listen to her. You've got pretty pink hair." he kissed her forehead and went into the house.

"You have some weird friends, Jamie." you shook your head.

"They're not weird. It's just him... that's a bit extra..."

"I can still hear the two of you! I am NOT extra!"

---

James has become more fond od Treasure through the evening. He was sitting on his bay window, looking through at the distance where the field stretched into the distance. Treasure was lightly snoring in his lap as his hand was caressing her tiny head into sweeter dreams.

Treasure started to breathe a bit harder during her sleep, so James lightly opened the window and let the summer breeze wash over her. It was almost as that little pig's mouth curved into a thankful smile. Despite the fact how much everybody disagreed on the pig becoming part of the family, James was really thankful for this lovely little being in his lap. He always had a feeling about animals. Even Minki, his mother's old cat, seemed to crawl onto his chest when he was laying and purr over his heart. Mother said it was a miracle because Minki never liked anybody, not even your father or you but through the years, she got a bit softer for everybody.

"Tell me what's on your mind and I'll tell you what's on mine?" James heard Sirius say from the outside.

His attention wavered from the pig to the voices bellow him. He completely forgot his room is right above the porch but he didn't intend to listen.

He heard you laugh and then stop to pause. He knew that pause. "You know today was the first day I saw James jealous of me." you let out a laugh and James furrowed his eyebrows at your statement.

"I wasn't jealous." he whispered to himself. "Was I jealous?" he asked the sleeping pig on his lap, than thought back to today and concluded. "I was maybe a wee jealous."

"How do you know he was jealous?" Sirius asked and you smiled with a roll of your eyes.

"It doesn't take a mind reader to see this." you snorted, than pulled yourself on the fence as you usually did. "Plus whenever he's having angry thoughts the space between his eyebrows furrow and he looks extremely tense. I keep telling him that that is his tell but he never listens."

You were right. You do always tell him about his little tells but he just does them subconsciously.

"I remember before I turned eleven, James would constantly make me jealous by telling me about magic. How he started showing his magic abilities when he was seven and I was ten but didn't even show a tad of it." you started and your voice started to quiver a bit. It was when you started to show your rawest side. You didn't much open up to anybody but when you did, you really went into the most deepest parts of yourself. "When we found out I was a Squib, James stopped with the whole teasing but it was too late, you know? He had already told me about Hogwarts and given me such expectations to be sorted into the same house as him or a Hufflepuff. He loved Hufflepuffs... and I remember crying when Dumbledore told me and my parents that I can attend Hogwarts for magical knowledge but will never be able to preform it. I can never forget the disappointment in my father's eyes. He was so shocked that I was a Squib, it was his reaction that made me cry so hard that day." you continued, speaking in a calm, controlled voice. "I didn't want to stand out in Hogwarts so I said I don't want to. James told me I could still go to Muggle schools and become more magical and successful even if I'm not a wizard and that gave me hope." you smiled and James mathed your smiled from another room, still listening. "Though it always bugged me- the whole Squib thing. We came from such a powerful wizarding family and I was the one who got born without it."

"It happens even to the best of families, (y/n)." Sirius tried to reason but you only smiled. "It happened to my family as well... but... she married a Muggle so... it sort of made sense..."

"Exactly. Both of my parents come from powerful families, that's why it didn't make sense to me and I couldn't understand why nobody did any more research. They all just accepted it."

"But you didn't?"

"No. I didn't." you replied determined. "It didn't make sense to me. It was like a whole family line with black eyes and black hair and black skin existed and all of a sudden a ginger with blue eyes and fair light skin was born to that family. And I know it happens in family but not in this family, you know?" you tried to explain. "And I know James and I are different from each other, thank God. It makes sense because my father's side of the family are all alike, which is from whom James takes it from but my mother's side is diverse, that's why our physical features are so different. Genes. Those genes make sense but magical genes? Wizards marrying wizards in my family and it just didn't make sense to me. I couldn't let it go."

"The stubborn gene." Sirius tried to joke and James snorted at his comment.

"I was always jealous of James. I just never showed it but then I was in London with my friends- it was a school trip- and there was this psychic."

"Oh no."

"I know what you're thinking but let me explain!"

"Muggle Psychics are such a skam."

"Let me explain you broom flying shit."

"Alright. No need to get mean." Sirius backed off, meanwhile James was holding his laughter in the other room.

"Psychics feed off an energy and vibrations. Yes, some are skammers but there was something different with this woman. When we locked eyes through the window, I got this odd shiver down my spine and something about her eyes... it felt so real...

'++ You were standing in front of store and it felt like it was only you and the store in this world. Your friends were nowhere by but that was the last thing on your mind. You had been there and the store and the mere nothingness of the world.

You opened the door, they jingled and spread an odd athmosphere on your body. You didn't know whether you felt anxious or free. Perhaps the feeling of freedom gave you a bit of anxiety as well.

"Come in, child." you heard a voice from another room and before you even took a step, she was already in sight.

She was leaning on the wall, dipping her tea bag into the boiling water. She wasn't like those psychics the television represents. She wore a long dress that was tight around her waist. She was in a nice form and you couldn't figure out whether she was 30 or 40.

"I'm 52." she answered your question before giving you a pleasant smile with beautiful teeth and making her way into another room. "I know, I don't look like it much but that's the power of magic." she continued to say, poking her head out of the room and grinning. "But you would know everything about that, wouldn't you?"

You felt something swallow you but you gathered your thoughts quickly. "Unicorns, fairies... all of them live in my backyard, yes." you said as you also made your way to the room, letting your hand brush the colourful crystals hanging on a silver chains.

"They're all around you, you know?" she smiled and you furrowed your eyebrow at you. "Fairies I mean but they only appear if they want to, that's why you've never seen them. They don't want to appear."

"Alright?" you sounded doubtful.

"Come on, sit."

And you sat.

She sat across from you and opened her hands on the table. "Go on. Give me your hands. You didn't walk in here just to stare at me."

And as soon as you gave her your hands, you felt this magnetic pull towards this woman. It was something you gave her and it was something she gave you back.

Her eyes were closed but the way her lips pursed together and eyebrows furrowed, you knew she was a bit confused. "Oh dear..." she mumbled under her breath but regained her posture and mind. "What we're doing right now are exchanging energies darling. The Universe is responding to it, giving me a download. Whether you believe in the Universe, the energies, vibrations or the Law of Attraction, it does exist. You cannot fight it. It simply exists." she continued to explain and you listened. "Your inner child is in need of healing- I see you still haven't moved on from something that had caused a massive change in your childhood..." she opened her eyes a bit. "Magic?"

"I... I don't have magic."

"Oh, honey. You don't need to move a feather to have magic." she gave you a loving, caring smile. "We all hold magic inside of us. You just have to believe in it."

And it was in the way she spoke that she gave you a large amount of hope. All the anxiety was gone- as if it never existed. You just wanted to stay in there forever.

"I also see you've been troubling yourself with a question for a long time and I'm here to give you an answer..." ++'

"What did she say?!" Sirius exclaimed in anticipation. He was really invested in this whole story, meanwhile you had to take a moment to breathe.

"Well... in the beginning when she said "Oh, dear..." she was referring to the black magic I carried inside all these years." you tried to smile but it squeezed your heart. "I don't have it anymore. I washed it off a year ago but what really made me upset was that if I washed it before I turned eleven, I could be a witch myself." you looked up, trying to show him that you weren't affected by talking about this, though clearly you were.

"What do you mean?"

"When my nana was alive, on my mother's side, she always forbid people to come when mother was pregnant with James and when James was just a baby. When they did come, she would sage the house and search it from head to toe because people could have left omens or something that would do something to a child. Despite the fact that she was a wizard, she was extremely superstitious. At least, that's what mum told me. It annoyed her a bit." you paused. "She died not long after James was born and before I was conceived and Nora, the psychic told me that nana has been protecting both of us from the other world but she couldn't protect me in this world like she had done with James."

"Meaning what? Somebody did black magic on you?" Sirius furrowed his eyebrows meanwhile James was listening up there, just as confused.

"Nora talks to the spirits, and she talked to nana. Nana said that my father's auntie was the one, attempting to put black magic on James but was unsuccessful. Then tried again with me... bringing a whole tea set as a present and Nora said that teas have an enormous power, whether we know it or not. It can heal you but it can also sicken you- herbs an all."

"Yeah, I know. I've been taking Herbology with agony but still listened to it."

"The tea set was cursed and whenever my mother drank from it I would consume the black magic that came with it. It created a blockage for my magic and when I turned eleven, it finally did its job by never letting me use magic at all." you smiled but a tear rolled down your face. "She told me I could still have magic, you know? If I removed the black magic, I'd remove the blockage but there was a catch."

"What?"

"I'd become an Obscurial." you looked at him and his eyes dawned with a loss of hope. "I know, I was disappointed as well. I didn't want ot be an Obscurial and I had already created the Muggle life, accepted it and loved it- so I gave up on magic. I didn't want that kind of magic. I wasn't desperate like I was when I was a kid but still it hurt.- She told me how to get rid of the black magic completely and I had followed every step. I felt lighter afterwards, like something has been lifted off my shoulders. I didn't know I was carrying something so heavy all my life but I felt fantastic after it."

"Did you tell your parents or James?"

"No." you shook your head. "I didn't want to burden them with this knowledge and they already accepted the whole Squib part of me and I got closure as well... knowing that I wasn't picked out of the family. I was just a wee unfortunate." you smiled, looking up at the stars. "Nana said through Nora that she'll always protect us- all of us and she told me that I should try to find my own magic in the world, how special I was and all of those things. Some days, I really do feel like she's with me. Sometimes when we eat together or the days I sit here and look up at the stars." you laughed. "It sounds a bit crazy but-"

"No...it doesn't." Sirius said as he took your hand in his, smiling at this magnificent woman in front of you.

James already closed the window. He couldn't believe what he just heard. He knew your father's auntie was a bit odd but to do black magic on her own family is just fucked up.

He needed to know something. He needed to go to the attic.

Meanwhile you and Sirius were still on the porch. Still so wonderfully living among the stars. You jumped down from the fence and leaned back. Whenever he would touch you, you felt a rush of emotions go through you- those anxious butterflies banding together in your stomach and trying to burst free. Your cheeks would heat up... and whenever Sirius was close, this close, you would even get afraid of what he might do next.

Flirting was one thing for you; fun and easy but when it came to real feelings, that was when you were a complete mess.

Sirius was standing close to you but he didn't touch you. "All that talk about energies..." he started, breathing a bit heavily as he was getting closer to you. "Does that mean we exchange it too?"

"Yeah." you replied with shallow breathing.

"And when I touch you like this..." he said, taking a hold of your hand and lifting it up a bit, interlocking his fingers with you, then looking deep into your eyes. "Do you feel it?"

"I feel it..." you replied, staring into his lips, marvelling at their beauty as your whole body would pulse.

"And now?" he asked, placing his other hand on your hip and pushing you gently on the wooden pillar.

"Uh..." you swallowed thickly as your heart rate started to beat abnormally. "I feel you..."

He pressed his forehead onto yours and started to close the gap between your lips. "Good..." he growled a little and pressed his lips onto yours. His body, hot, pushing you against the pillar, meanwhile his hand on your hip squeezed you tightly, releasing a pleased whimper from your lips. His strong arms would wrap themselves under your thighs and lift you up until they were wrapped around his waist. His kisses deep and passionate caused your head to swirl. Your fingers dug into his curls and tugged on a little, causing a satisfied smile to appear on his lips.

He would pull away for a moment, gaze into your eyes than to your every feature. He would start to remove your hair from your cheek, just to take a closer look at you. You were amazed by his strength. He was holding your whole body weight with one hand that it only made you feel more attracted to the man.

Than before you knew it, something fell on the floor in the living room, making the both of you jump and look who had just caught you.

"Oh, bloody hell!!" Sirius gasped. "Treasure, what the hell?" he looked at the pig as the pig happily jumped towards him.

"I think she's a bit jealous." you giggled, meanwhile Sirius scooped the little being into his arms.

"Does this look jealous to you?" he turned her towards you and the pig was simply enjoying the little belly rub, smiling at you as well and trying to sniff you.

"I still can't believe my parents didn't allow me to have a fish but allowed you to bring a whole pig home."

"I think you're the one jealous." he raised an eyebrow meanwhile you rolled your eyes.

"I could never be... especially of this gorgeous little piggy." you rubbed her belly as well as she let a few pleased squeeks.

"I thought Prongs was babysitting you?" he tol her. "We shall find him, shan't we?"

---

However, James was sitting in the dark attic, surfing through old boxes of his grandparents things. Especially his nana's, which he regretted a bit when he pulled out old lingerie.

"Oh, ew..." he quickly threw it away. "I did not need to know that." he surfed through the old box, finally finding what he has been looking for...

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #remus lupin #remus lupin imagines

85 notes · View notes

do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 2 years ago

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ARTWINS!

Unbelievably, another year has passed. Here’s to @artwinsdraws: you shall be showered in love and gifts today and in commissions hopefully any other day. May you grow in years as much as you grow in your art every year. And for everyone else: please check their commissions page, folks.

Sadly enough, the only gift I have for you today is a story we talked about lately. Without further ado, have it for yourselves now and don’t sue me for the smut parts! All the best to you.

Summer in Toussaint meant blistering heat. The air flickered almost tangibly, causing dizziness, and the lungs of one’s body seemed to dry up with every breath. It was one of the reasons why Emhyr despised the country ruled by his cousin. Of course, even Nilfgaard itself was not usually a pleasure during the summer months. He was essentially used to it, yet the coolness of the palace walls helped make the weather more bearable.

Out here, there was no such luxury. Corvo Bianco was an unreliable refuge for the heat, at least as far as Emhyr was concerned. He began to curse his decision to pay a visit to his spouse at this time of year, of all times.

The winery was Geralt's property, and it could well have been managed by the caretakers, but Geralt's visits here belonged to their tacit agreements. Geralt was amazingly inflexible in some respects: he always rose with the rising sun, he always put his personal needs behind, and he loved Emhyr with unparalleled loyalty. And yet, in accordance with his guild animal, he was a wanderer. Although no longer a cub: as if it was genetically anchored in him, there always came a time when his eyes roamed restlessly into the distance.

Then he was dragged to the path. At first, Emhyr had thought he was being drawn to the past, but that was not true. Rather, his little adventures, as Emhyr called them with a mocking undertone meant to hide his concern, seemed to almost charge him up like Emhyr's court sorceress charging her magic crystals.

There was another arrangement: when Geralt was in Toussaint, Emhyr always stole a day or two, during which his sorceress shielded him from the world and its obligations in a special way: by transporting him here. For that time, he remained invisible in the palace, and all requests bounced off, all meetings were adjourned, and the throne room was empty. Then Corvo Bianco was also his retreat, a place where he was only Emhyr. When the house belonged to them alone and nothing could be heard but the occasional crackling of the old beams or the flickering of the candlelight or Geralt's gasp with no need to hold back because there were no guards outside the door.

But now they were not in the house, which Emhyr would clearly have preferred. Instead, he sat on the grass with his sleeves rolled up – one of the few fashionable concessions to the heat – and without a robe. It wasn't as if he couldn't enjoy nature, even though for many years it had shown him mainly its hostile sides. Originality and simplicity certainly had their good sides.

For there was Geralt, who had tried in vain to persuade him to hold his bare feet in the little stream that defied the heat with sheer force of will. Geralt with that alluring, challenging grin on his face that even Toussaint's long hours in the sun couldn't really tan. Emhyr, on the other hand, had the feeling that in this climate, after only a short time, he would take on the complexion of one of the olives that his husband loved to shove between his lips. What a telltale detail. He could almost imagine the whispering at court.

And yet, he didn't care now. All that mattered now was that Geralt had taken off his shirt at some point. A single drop of sweat, long since a narrow trickle, had found its way down from his neck, teasing one of the scars only to finally stuck to his left nipple. There was sweet grape juice on the rustic blanket Geralt had spread on the dry grass, barely cool in the clay jug, just enough to moisten his suddenly parched throat. But Emhyr did not move, did not even dare to stretch out his hand as if the mere action might disturb some kind of magic that had settled over the moment. As if he suddenly found himself in one of those fairy rings that folklore told of.

Geralt, however, was not a mystical mythical figure. He was all too seductive flesh, from his sweaty hairline to his bare fetlocks beneath the water’s surface. The languid gesture with which he shooed away an annoying insect was like a summons to Emhyr. He licked his lips as if they would burst with dryness, as if the man, his sheer existence, was drawing every drop of moisture from his body.

Out here, in the shade of the trees, the air did not flicker, but there was not even a breath of air that would have moved the leaves and at least cooled the sweat on the skin. Geralt, with his teasing grin and his feet in the water, with his nipple wet with sweat and the strand of hair he blew out of his face: his very own heatwave.

As the heat spread between his thighs, Emhyr leaned back, pressing his back against the bark of a tree, opening his legs ever so slightly, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Geralt. This was already foreplay. The looks, the stoic handling of the heat which had long since seized the innermost. The moisture that ran down Emhyr's back seemed to simultaneously evaporate and cool in an instant.

"It's quiet out here," Geralt said with an innocence he must have lost more than 80 years ago. "Even the birds are too hot to sing. But you, honored husband, sit there not even allowing the sweat to cool your imperial body."

A hand, sunk in the stream, suddenly shot up and sprinkled a breath of moisture in Emhyr's direction, eaten up almost imperceptibly by the ambient temperature.

"An attack?" Emhyr replied with a sneer. "Maybe you better choose your weapons more carefully."

"Oh, you mean like yourself? I don't see that you have anything more to offer than a sharp tongue."

"I didn't offer it yet."

Geralt's hand, seemingly absorbed in playing with the water, paused, and his gaze became interested.

"One does wonder what else would be needed for that," he said, almost dreamily.

Suddenly he rose, tugged at the waistband of his loose pants, adding perkily, "You might need some more motivation."

As if these tight thighs beneath the stunning waist were not incentive enough; not reason enough to make a man break out in a sweat even more than the heat could. He stood upright, his long lashes half closed over his golden eyes. The sun that could not dye this fair skin and bleach this white hair even more; that very sun shone not merely on a body, but on a marvel. The thought seemed to come directly from one of those pulp novels, and yet... The true miracle was that this body, whose countless scars told so many stories, had a very special story reserved just for Emhyr. One that all power and wealth could not acquire. One that was given only by itself and only in true devotion.

But no thought of that now. The day, the spot, even the romantic mood that a picnic promised, might carry something poetic in it. However, the depressing heat – or perhaps something else entirely – clouded his senses and left room only for animal instincts. A mind that on any other day bowed to protocols, rules and sheer logic, even demanded all this, virtually as the natural order of things, could stop thinking now and here. Perhaps Emhyr was simply giving in to the desire between his thighs, but as a Nilfgaard saying went, Much that is tasteless at the table is spice in bed.

This bed would be made of grass and moss, but he did not care. He stretched out his hand. The throne room was far away, and yet, for a heartbeat long, it seemed that he was ready to pass judgment. As far as Geralt was concerned, he had made his judgment a long time ago.

"I don't want to keep you waiting," he said calmly as his eyes roamed over Geralt's body.

It was always like this. He never got enough of the sight, and although they had done nothing but roast in the heat, exchanging glances and ridiculous words, Geralt was already half hard. Almost as if the feigned indifference in Emhyr's gestures and words excited him, although the man was still wearing all his clothes, steaming underneath.

"You think," Geralt said as he moved closer, his wet feet wetting the grass with urgently needed moisture, "I'm so impatient? So keen to present myself to you?"

"Why else would you have already torn off your clothes, my dear?"

The incorruptible logic of these words, coolly delivered, was undeniable. With two steps Geralt overcame the distance. Even his naked body radiated a heat that took Emhyr's breath away for a moment – or was it something else? When stormy lips conquered his, the thought faded away like all the others. Geralt had gone down on his knees, but this time without that quiet mockery that this game sometimes held for both of them: the only man who had ever voluntarily knelt before the Emperor and yet had never officially done so.

Now other moisture wetted Emhyr’s parched mouth, but he quickly realized that he was not suffering from thirst but hunger. This was hunger that always arose in Geralt's presence, as the saying goes, appetite comes with eating. Not that this required any prompting.

Emhyr's hand was warm like everything about him, but also damp with sweat as he closed it around Geralt's neck and pulled him even closer. For a moment, all of this seemed overwhelming. His clothes stuck to his body, and Geralt's urgent tongue did nothing to relieve the heat, on the contrary. The latter must have sensed this, because now nimble fingers slipped under the waistband of Emhyr's tunic, and despite the temperatures, they left a pleasant little shiver on his back.

Geralt's mouth parted from his, moist lips with a broad, victorious smile as he murmured, "You sure must be feeling hot, husband."

Emhyr had his shirt pulled over his head and quietly returned, "Oh, and you think you have the cure?"

"Well," Geralt returned, as his hands wandered slowly over Emhyr's shoulders as if searching for an elevation he didn't yet know, "we can bathe in the stream afterward and see if it helps."

"Afterward," Emhyr growled, impatience flashing in his eyes, and Geralt gave a hoarse, low laugh.

"You're right, of course, for an afterward, there must be a now," Geralt replied lightly, eyes fixed firmly on the veiled hazel before him as his fingers stroked the other’s crotch: playfully at first, to a firm grip that elicited a hiss.

"Oi," he went on with raised brows, an outrageous impersonation of his spouse, "who would have ever heard of wild mountain lions around Corvo Bianco?"

"Cheeky," Emhyr returned as his tongue found the saliva for the words.

Geralt knew exactly what effect he had, and he enjoyed it. And Emhyr relished it as well, for even if this bold advance of his husband might have had much to do with the heat lying heavily over the land and clouding the senses, it was just as rare.

It was one of those traits that Emhyr loved so much about him. The outwardly tough witcher, a relentless fighter, a bastion against monsters (here he might exaggerate a little, but the essence was correct): he loved to surrender. In the seclusion of their bedchamber (and by no means only there), he let himself fall and gave up all strength. Wax in Emhyr's hands, beneath his fingers and his tongue, eliciting sounds that had drilled into Emhyr's memory and lingered there as an escape from all those monotonous moments that his everyday life had to offer.

Now, however, Emhyr was the wax, perhaps even already melted. For now, his witcher appeared boldly. His fingers' movements did not allow escape, the closeness with which he pressed against him offered no way out, and that was not desired either. Soon he was nibbling on Emhyr's earlobe, soon his warm breath was stroking his neck; all this while a hand held him in place. And Emhyr let himself be held there as if Geralt's hands were burning into his skin; but if so, this was the most wonderful fire under which to perish.

"There are things I want to do," Geralt whispered, a hot breath of wind on Emhyr's ear. "That is, I wanted to do them. But it is too hot, and if I don't feel you inside me soon, honored husband, all this will be over much faster than I would like. Or you."

"Filthy," Emhyr replied, the corners of his mouth half raised.

Then he pushed Geralt back and lay down on the grass, literally tearing his pants off as he moved.

"Give me what is due," he demanded, "and I warn you, hold your horses."

There it was again, that hoarse little laugh that could cause shivers all its own, but of course, Geralt obeyed.

"He can't help it," he spoke more to himself, "commanding even out here, I may ascend his throne."

"Stop talking, or this will actually be over sooner than you thought," Emhyr muttered with a telltale little gasp in his voice.

Geralt now knelt over him, breathing a tiny kiss on the corner of Emhyr's mouth, and then whirled around.

"For this reward, you will have to work," he still said, with his body finally lying down on Emhyr.

There was no answer, for his mouth was already closing over Emhyr's member with feverish impatience, leaving the latter only a rasping moan in a very dry mouth. And yet it was necessary to collect any available moisture. He raised his hands, pushed apart the cheeks seductively presented in front of him, sucking in a deep breath of the tangy smell emanating from the perky erect cock not far away.

At that moment he wanted everything and couldn't decide; here beneath Geralt's thighs: everything was a provocation, the finely glittering precum as well as the tight rear end. He took up the drop with a careful finger, undecided whether to moisten his own lips with it, to enjoy the foretaste. But then, almost automatically, he stroked it over the puckering hole presented to him. The moisture evaporated in the heat as if it had never been there, but there was a soft sound in front of him that was almost lost in the indecent slurping.

So his finger followed the now invisible trail, and although Geralt's mouth worked his cock with that particular skill he had never quite understood and which drove him to the brink of madness, he gave himself to the task. Gently, ever so gently, he explored the familiar folds, this irresistible mystery that was his alone. Of course, this was not enough, and the drop of sweat rolling off Geralt's back, entering his cheeks, did little to calm his excitement. As if the heat had made him lose his mind, it finally occurred to Emhyr that he needed more as well as Geralt did. Even though another seduction stood hard and firm right in front of him, now the impatience was back, demanding quick release.

With curt but purposeful movements he directed Geralt's hips, and then finally he had him as he desired. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, but the sight before him moistened it, a clever trick of nature. Slowly, he stroked one of those few spots on that alluring body that didn't have the light, almost chalky color that the mutations had claimed. Even as the tip of his tongue merely grazed the sensitive edge, the effect was immediate. Geralt's grip tightened. A sound rang out, muffled: half sigh, half lustful moan. His tongue, only seconds before so eager in its task, faltered just a moment long.

Finally, they realized each had their assignment – with the same, immediate goal. As if they had agreed, almost in sync, they both found a rhythm. The heated air, the sweat-soaked grass, even the chirping of insects attracted to it; everything faded into the background. There was still heat, the kind that rises from the innermost, the kind that spirals up and lightens every thought.

A light wind arose, a gentle breeze still; just a breath brushing over the heated bodies until drops of sweat became goosebumps. The wind remained unnoticed, but would not remain so for long: this first gentle rustling of the leaves heralded a still distant thunderstorm that would unload in a while.

But first, it seemed, eagerness unleashed that lovers feel who are so close to each other and not yet close enough. Again it was Geralt who took the lead. He, who was usually all too avid to let Emhyr guide him in this particular dance, now showed an impatience that was not only due to the weather. Although it was his choice to withdraw from the palace for weeks, it seemed as if all those weeks had built up inside him and demanded immediate redemption.

His movements were nimble and deft, and before Emhyr knew what happened, he had disentangled and spun around. Hot lips demanded a kiss, forcing a tongue inside. Emhyr's mouth filled with his own taste lingering on Geralt’s tongue, tart and a touch sweet. He closed his eyes and analyzed it as if it was a wine, and was this a good vintage? It seemed so to him. But even that, just a taste: if this was a wine, he had only absorbed the aroma, and it was Geralt who would feast on it. Suddenly, the lips were gone, yet the taste still lingered in Emhyr’s mouth, mixed with Geralt’s unique flavor.

"Open your eyes, my love," Geralt said, "you don't want to miss this."

When had this man become so bold? He, who usually always melted beneath Emhyr's fingers; a body so hardened by many torments, yet so malleable and receptive. Receptive to every gentle touch, every breath that stroked the scars that crisscrossed the body like a map; a map of experiences that were never quite forgotten and that these fingers could nevertheless heal, at least for the moment.

Emhyr opened his eyes, and there was that smile, broad as if the sun was rising. In truth, the first delicate clouds were moving in front of the real sun, but the sky was far, and the smile was very close.

Geralt rested his hands on Emhyr's chest. Whether that was necessary or not, it was another physical connection that drove the heat immeasurably. The next compound wasn't quite as easy, even in this position, and the concentrated expression on Geralt's face was amazingly arousing. His shoulder-length hair, tamed with a ribbon only for work out here, had long since come loose. It framed a face that was never more beautiful than in those moments full of passion.

And in all this: the smile remained, just like his gaze remained fixed on Emhyr's eyes. As if to assure he was with him, all the time, not only physically – a mind fixed to his. Finally, they both gasped at the same time, in a sound that blended and became one, just like their bodies that had just met. The warmth that now enveloped Emhyr was incomparable and completely different from any other heat. It was marvelous, still: he almost enjoyed the sight in front of him even more. His hands found their way to Geralt’s hips in a rehearsed movement, and he clasped tight as Geralt lowered his body with agonizing slowness.

Geralt's member rested almost on Emhyr's belly, the wet tip close to losing another drop, and the mere thought was overwhelming. But not so much as everything else; for now Geralt leaned forward once more to graze his lips with a careless kiss. Another teaser, although no more foretaste. For now he was moving, slowly pushing himself up, leaning on Emhyr as his hair brushed his spouse's cheek.

The fact that the wind was picking up went unnoticed, just like the sun, whose rays no longer made it through the denser clouds. The sultriness, on the other hand, seemed to increase even more, but the sweat dripping from both bodies might well have another reason. One of those reasons, no doubt, was that Geralt's body was now bent over even more, to the point their nipples met, rubbing against each other with every touch. This very special angle tempted deep, firm thrusts, and soon Emhyr had regained his dominance in this game.

Their gazes met in a silent admission, and their mouths, only briefly detached from each other, exchanged knowing smiles. Emhyr's grip tightened, and at last, his witcher surrendered to this force of nature. When the first drops fell, a gentle summer rain with a hint of petrichor, Emhyr’s thrusts were still exploratory. Then, as if the sudden rain was his impulse generator, he imperceptibly adapted to this external rhythm and found his nature.

Nature itself – well, it had also picked up speed. The rain hit the far too dry ground with a hiss, and the drops splashing into the stream played their own tune. Above all this was a dull rumble, not too distant now: the storm was approaching, no longer a mere announcement. No doubt, then, that their sounds were barely audible, and yet, they were the only thing they heard.

These were delicate sounds, reserved for special occasions and places; sounds, in any case, that were probably rarely heard out here. The smacking of two bodies, drenched in sweat and lust, colliding. The low, approving hum from two throats when this happened; when what seemed to be made for each other found each other. How quickly that hum could turn into a sound that was almost a whimper, by just a single touch. The more their bodies adjusted to each other, the more Emhyr increased his speed; almost as if the more Geralt opened up to him, the more he wanted to make sure he stayed close.

The friction stayed and increased, even though the world around them softened. The earth gave way to the surge of water. The next morning, very early, when Emhyr was back at the palace taking a bath, his chamberlain would be very surprised at the hard-to-remove stain that grass, moss, and earth had rubbed into his master’s hips. He, however, would give a very slight smile at the memory that came with it, almost wishing it wouldn’t fade so soon.

But now and here it didn't matter. The now and here was filled with heat that was barely around them anymore. The approaching thunderstorm, a threatening sound and sheet lightning, had cooled the air noticeably. But Geralt's warmth surrounding him was so much hotter than the air had ever been.

"It's raining," Geralt gasped, and his veiled gaze made it clear that this had indeed only just dawned on him.

A second before he had been lying limp, nearly will-less on top of Emhyr, letting himself be held, driven into an extremely delicate state of consciousness by hard, almost ruthless thrusts. Now he was wide awake. The grayness that had set in unnoticed made his eyes glow with that peculiar radiance that rivaled a cat. But the cats, of which there were plenty on Corvo Bianco, had long since retreated to a safe place, safe not only from the strange not-quite-man and his companion but also from the thunderstorm.

Whatever it was, the sudden coolness brushing across his heated chest, the rain that pressed his hair heavily into his neck, or the approaching climax – he straightened up, his hands firmly on Emhyr's shoulders, an unspoken request to give in. Not for the first time today, the latter obeyed.

Emhyr lay there, in that increasingly damp bed of grass, his mouth slightly open, letting the rain moisten his throat and Geralt his desires. He came with the first real lightning strike that lit up the sky, and the thunder that quickly followed accompanied the twitching of his cock deep inside Geralt. The latter laughed, although the roar of the sky almost swallowed the sound, just as he swallowed the increasingly heavy rain. The laughter was pure joy, ecstasy even. Perhaps also a special kind of outlet, as it is sometimes in moments of extreme excitement, when joy and sadness, fear and thrill, and many such feelings blend.

He was still laughing when he swallowed that laugh itself because a single touch was enough to break the camel's back. The rain was now so heavy that it quickly wiped away what was showering his husband.

"I guess the bath in the stream will have to be canceled," Geralt said with a chuckle.

Once again, lightning twitched across the sky. The thunderstorm was so close, and the trees so dry, that reason finally took over again. It was visibly difficult for Geralt to break away, but the magic of the moment had faded, and the raindrops pelted down on them almost painfully.

"We should go," he said, jumping up and gathering their clothes scattered on the damp grass.

Emhyr did not want to go. It wasn't that he had suddenly developed a love for nature, certainly not because it was just mercilessly pouring over them. Unlike Geralt, whose mood after lovemaking could be fragile and strange, sometimes high, sometimes low, he was anxious to delay the moment until reality crashed down on him.

"Come," Geralt said softly, as if sensing just that – which he probably did, amazing as that was for his kind and profession, and held out his hand to him.

This time, when lightning and thunder applied simultaneously, Emhyr grabbed his hand.

After all, it would have been a great misfortune to lose the Emperor of Nilfgaard to a thunderstorm, of all things.

#happy birthday #artwins #Emralt #writing #fanfiction #art and fanfiction are the best companions #my fics

12 notes · View notes

castleamc · 3 years ago

Text

The Night We Met

Pairing: Young!Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x Young F!Reader

Words: 4.1k (I swear im trying to make 'em shorter!)

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of food, controlling parents, alcohol consumption, college students, bar at night, young!jack daniels x young f!reader, meet cute 😗

A/N: This one shot can be read on its own without knowing the story of In the Dead of Night, they’re just random moments with Jack Daniels x You because in this house Jack never went to Poppyland. And yes Franki I made a fic based off Lord Huron's song, The Night We Met. And I hope you enjoy this Sophie, ilysm bby! You can listen to the song in the background to get the full vibe while I wrote this if you want of course. Dont look at me like that..*gaga’s voice*

Main Masterlist ⭐️

»»»»»»»❀«««««««

The carnival was packed at night filled with families, young couples, groups of friends at every direction all out enjoying the rides and food. It was the beginning of summer, so everyone that was everyone was here. You’d preferred to be out at night since it was much more breezy and dazzling, the sky had a beautiful contrast to the sparking carnival lights.

Walking past the twinkling lights you can’t help but look up at the sky past everyone’s piercing stares and murmured whispers. They didn't even bother to be discreet at this point.

Your family had just moved into town in time for your new semester in college. News traveled fast in this small part of Kentucky, you found that out rather quickly.

No matter the curious stares, random welcomes, and the occasional side eyes from some people it didn't bother you too much. It’s normal to be curious about new people disrupting this well formed bubble of a community. Given everyone here knows one another. It's not something you’re use to and probably not your most favorite thing ever, but it's your reality now.

You were the talk for the better part of the early summer.

Everyone knew your name, major, and where you came from by the end of the week. They might as well of have known what allergies you had. However no one really bothered to actually speak to you and get to know you that was until you went to orientation.

Enrolling into your new classes had felt isolating to say the least. You didn’t know anyone, you did try to have small conversations with people around you which was cut short. But you didn’t dwell on it, you’re here for a degree and then you’d probably leave right after graduation. Lucky enough your care free attitude caught the attention of one person, Charlie, who loved to gossip. Keeping you in the loop of who’s who, where to go for a quick bite, and even introduced you to her own group of friends. They were all like Charlie in the sense that they related to similar interests, mannerisms yet each one was so different and kind hearted. All four of them complimented one another nicely.

She wasn’t those stuck up people that made you feel bad or judged you for liking a particular thing, in fact she welcomed it. If it made you happy and did no harm so be it, she’d say.

After meeting her and everyone else it didn’t feel so lonely anymore. The whispers became one less thing to worry about. Eventually they became background noise, that was when you're with them.

Alone it becomes the one thing you can't ignore.

You came to the carnival by yourself.

Originally you hadn’t planned to go out tonight, but being stuck at home with your parent’s nagging concerns about choosing the “perfect” career was the last thing you needed.

They always made it a priority to be invested in your education, especially starting college.

You were grateful to that care, it’s not something you’d ever take for granted. Always bringing in decent grades, you wanted to make them happy and did as you were told. Yet, you’re not sure how far you’ll be stretched before you'd snap. You needed to escape the endless demands of which clubs you should join to get recognition or which professors to aid, on and on. It was becoming dreadful.

You know it comes from a place of love, wanting you to be secure and stable. Yet it was unbearably tiring.

So a night out was much needed.

You were swerving quickly past people under the twinkling yellow lights at each stand, the smell in the air was mouthwatering, you didn’t know your legs were pulling you towards it until the smell overpowered your senses. It tasted sweet like apples and baked brown sugar, and then blueberries with peaches right after. Searching to see where it wafted from, you decide right in that moment, before heading to your friends waiting for you at the Bull Riding bar, to head towards the spot luring you.

Mr.Daniel's food stand that had baked pastries was intoxicating the air.

Since you moved in Charle did give you the inside scoop on everyone, that included who Mr.Daniels exactly was. You came to learn that he was a respected kind man that helped everyone as much as possible in town, supposedly. Although you never really met the man, however you knew of his son. Jack Daniels.

Charlie showed you a picture of him, she called him the rebel without a cause. It made you laugh knowing that was the title of a James Dean movie, possibly even fitting for him. He even showed up late to orientation making a quiet entrance not to disturb the speaker. He was attractive with his black leather jacket that was slightly too big on him but it worked. What caught your eyes was the innocent look in his eyes, they were gentle.

Charlie had whispered to you, “All the girls want him, but he just messes with them. So be careful not to fall for his tricks.”

You didn’t quite believe her, judging by the picture and watching him sit near his friends he seemed like a good guy, soft dark brown eyes with short sort of combed over hair, as if he did it in a hurry and said fuck it. But then again looks can be deceiving, so you had your guard up regardless. Better to be safe than sorry.

Heading down the path, you looked to the side to take in how far it stretched. And oh boy did it stretch, it went past 3 food trucks behind you. You’re almost passing by the group of people at the front, sneakily you look at the pies between the space of each person in line. Each pie was perfectly golden brown around the crust and shiny in the center along with a toothpick that displayed which flavor it was.

The closer you got to the front the stronger the smell out of the kitchen truck became immediately signaling your stomach to growl. You really wish you ate before leaving.

As your passing by each person craning your neck with your lip caught between your teeth, a tall dark haired man steps out of the truck’s kitchen. You can’t see his face only his forehead and hair. People are moving back and forth speaking to one another, through the movement you see him place down freshly baked pies with his hands covered in mittens. That’s when you realize it’s him, Jack.

He shoots his eyes up at the people admiring and praising the perfect way the pie's crust are perfectly holden. Adjusting the display he quickly does a double take past the people in line to lock eyes with you.

Jack slowly analyses your face, maybe he remembered you from orientation, but you doubt it until he smiles at you as if he's known you all his life. It was that same easy going smile from the picture that barely wrinkled the sides of his eyes. You returned the smile committing it to memory, but that was it. You turned to keep walking reminding yourself about what Charlie had said, stay clear of him.

Last thing you needed was your parents on your ass going on about how guys are a distraction, you heard it once and that was enough.

You fidget with your sweater’s sleeve walking slowly though, he did seem polite. Is he really that bad as Charlie says?

Taking the risk you look back one more time for the fun of it, but Jack was no longer there. Instead your eyes are met with the delicious pies making your way past Mr.Daniels, who’s speaking making another happy costumer laugh.

“Hold on there Miss! You just moved in correct?”

You stop dead in you tracks, Jack’s father called for you. His dad? Why on earth...

Suddenly the people first in line were eyeing you down waiting for your response.

You press your lips together forcing a shy smile, “Uh Hello! Yes, yes I did.”

“Welcome! I’m Mr.Daniels, my son…” he looks to his right wondering where he ran off to. “Was just here I could’ve sworn he just spo-. Well anyways.”

He cleans his hands bidding farewell to who he was talking to and shakes your hand.

“Which pie would you like? I heard you might have a sweet tooth.”

Might? Understatement. You do. But from who? None of your friends are in line or around you for him to possibly know that. Word does travel fast here…

You step closer eyeing the pies shaking your head, “I’d love that. But I couldn’t possibly skip everyone…”

You’d feel like a bitch, everyone got here in time to make the line. It wouldn’t be fair. You just moved here, the last thing you want is to be the center of a pie scandal.

Mr.Daniels raises his brows, a spitting image of Jack. It warms your heart instantly.

He reaches for the pie cutter, “Nonsense. You’re new here! This is our treat.” He points to, luckily your favorite flavor of pie, cocking his head for your acknowledgement. Watching him slice into the pie you wonder who who exactly told him.

You thank him for his kindness and welcoming you into town as return heading to your friends eating the pie happily along the way.

Whoever it was, thank god for them.

In a few minutes you reached the Bull Riding Bar however, you didn’t want to enter right away. Everyone was rushing to get inside spilling liquor on the ground bumping into one another, it was where everyone in college went to have a great time. A lot of the people entering were students you’ve seen at orientation, enjoying their summer before classes started.

There was a group of people to your right heading to the bar that caught your attention with their roaring laughs and shrieks from girls trying to escape their partner’s kisses. That’s when you saw him again, Jack was walking slowly behind the group talking to a pretty red head. He was making her laugh not once looking at her flirtations, but with his hands in his jacket.

You had to stop yourself from staring at him, you detoured walking in front of the group trying to avoid them from noticing and bumping into you to throw away the plate and to take a spot on the fence.

It was breezy outside leaning on the fence you placed a leg on the wooden panel admiring the kids that were playing with the ponies, their parents were taking pictures of them. Each one watching them carefully pet the horse's beautiful mane.

You’d kill to be able to learn how to ride a horse you think to yourself crossing your arms on the fence to rest your head. You had just moved from the city so there wasn’t any time to learn, let alone an opportunity.

Often at times you feel at a disadvantage. A slight disadvantage. Only because everyone sounded so well trained, skilled with horse back riding meanwhile you barely even touched one for more than a few seconds. It was hard to bond with anyone. You vowed you'd learn one day. You have to, they’re beautiful animals. You feel like you could have a kinship with them, ridiculous as it is, horses somehow feel relatable. With their carefree personalities and free of any responsibilities.

You're not sure if it was the draft or something else raising the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly.

Lifting your head you get a feeling someone watching you watch the horses, but no one is around you. Just an empty fence with the trash can as your companion. It didn't feel threatening, but you take it as your cue to fix your outfit and start heading inside.

The bar was another place that was overly crowded. And not in the best way. You called Charlie to ask her where she was, when she responded she stood on the railing near the bull riding ring raising her arm almost falling over making you laugh.

They’re definitely drinking.

They were all next to each other side by side, leaning on the railing yelling to the rooftops for the person on the mechanical bull not to fall off and to keep holding on. You greet each of the girls who brought their partners, Charlie offers you a closed beer to drink.

Looking over Charlie’s shoulder at the bull rider, you find yourself cheering on for the person to keep holding. They had 5 seconds left to finish when the mechanical bull went into full gears throttling the guy off. He hit the mat so hard laughing, you figure it could be fun to try. Some people to your far right were even placing bets on those who stayed on the longest.

If you do fall at least you’ll get a laugh at it and get to say you did it. That is because, you’ve never done it before.

You poke Charlie and Oliver on their sides resting your chin on their shoulders between them, “Should I do it?”

You bite your lip anxiously, as they look at up each other before bursting laughing. Oliver wraps an arm around you, “That’s not your style, you’ll fall on your ass as soon as you step on the mat!"

You playfully hit his stomach, “Thanks for the vote of confidence jerk!”

Charlie laughs with along, “I’ll buy you beer if you can last 10 seconds on it.”

You raise your brows shooting a glare up at Oliver, “Oh well someone, at least someone believes in me.”

“I bet she could last more than 15 seconds. I can guarantee that.”

Oliver and Charlie dart their eyes past behind you raising their brows, Oliver slowly takes off his arm that was wrapped around your shoulders. You find yourself frozen at the sound of his deep southern drawl that came behind you. You hate to admit it, but you were excited to see.

You turn around feeling time stop just for you to see Jack Daniels, standing tall tilting his head to the side with his eyes glued on you, more specifically your body. In fact, he’s making it painfully obvious that he’s checking you out, only solidifying his "claim" when he shoots Oliver a glare.

You try to swallow absolutely nothing, cursing yourself for drinking beer.

“I’ve never done it before, so I wouldn’t bet on me if I were you.”

His eyes are drawn back to you at the sound of your voice, never once letting go of your gaze.

He furrows his brows together making a disbelieving face, “I’d bet on you gorgeous.”

Your heart thumps against your chest, you smirk at the nickname he gave you.

“Right..It’d be your loss.”

“Do it with me then,” Jack steps forward. “We can win it together.”

Charlie’s words were long forgotten at that moment, you wanted to give him a chance. Why not? If he’s game to teach you how to bull ride, what’s the harm? You finish your beer eyeing him just like he did to you. You’re going to need some liquid courage for what you’re about to do

Boldly you turn around to the front of the fence stepping on the railing leaning slightly forward on purpose to whistle sharply to the handler, “We’re next!”

Hopping off you catch Jack looking at you a little lower than he should be, but you don’t mind it. You softly tip his chin up loving the feel of his warm skin on your finger tips.

“Are you ready?”

“Only if you are darlin'.”

Standing behind the handler your nerves settle nicely stubbornly in as you’re listening to the ticker on the wall counting the seconds, before the girl falls off the mechanical bull. She's loosely hanging onto the horn of the saddle by sheer will. Everyone is yelling to keep holding on as they count down from 10, only to fall in 5 seconds.

Your next with Jack.

You feel excited going with him, but you don’t want to fall on your ass in front of everyone.

Jack notices your leg bouncing along with your hands tapping on the sides of your thighs, are you nervous? It doesn’t cross his mind at all that you’d be nervous, you had this confidence about you. When he spotted you through the truck's window walking by, you were ignoring every single glare focusing on the pies.

Instinctively Jack reaches down to intertwined his fingers with yours to be met with the same gesture giving him the go ahead to squeeze your hand.

“I’ve got you gorgeous. I’m not letting you go, I promise.”

You puff out air nodding up at him, the handler speaks pulling you both from your conversation.

“You kids ready?”

“We’re ready,” You nod stepping onto the mat still holding Jack’s hand.

You quickly search for your friends for some encouragement only to find them with their jaws dropped staring at you. Your eyes follow their direction down at your hand that’s still holding Jack’s.

Hastily releasing his hand, Jack clears his throat and raises his hand to pat your lower back getting your attention as he hops on first. Holding his hand out he guides you how to mount lifting you up and holding your waist firmly in place.

You hear whistles from people around gossiping at how close you both are, even your friends are in disbelief that you’re practically sitting on Jack. A well known player around town, you’d be lying if said you didn’t feel a little confident along side him.

Briefly eyeing the crowd you see the red head Jack was speaking to earlier roll her eyes whispering to her friend.

Automatically feeling bad thinking that you might've stolen her date or that he would’ve abandoned her.

Jack pulls you further back into him, “Listen gorgeous you’re going to have to get closer or we’re both falling off.”

Obeying his advice, you push your ass further pressing into his crotch turning back to him, “Your date seems mad.”

He looks down to you seeming genuinely confused, “What date?”

You scoff shaking your head, “The red head.”

“She’s not my date,” his voice darkens looking down at you, it sends a thrill down your spine. So he's not seeing anyone...

Jack reaches to hold one side of the reins while instructing you to hold the other side opposite of where his hand hard. You caress the leather strap in your hand warming it up in your palm to match his grip. You look down to your side to see his lower legs overlapping yours locking you into place, essentially stretching your legs a bit wider making you push further back into him.

He clears his throat loudly placing his hand on the curve of your thigh, “You’ve got this darlin’. Don’t worry it’ll be fun.”

Surprisingly you trust him, the way his thighs feel behind you, strong and secure. Looking down to his hand tightly holding the reins giving you the impression he’s done this before.

You chuckle, “This is ridiculous! But thank you for doing this with me.”

You would’ve never guessed you’d be here months ago. Pressed up against a handsome southern guy right before starting college. To hell with what your parents thought. Maybe you can enjoy dating and having fun, you might as well.

The handler announces he’s going to start the countdown.

“Don’t thank me yet sweets.”

Did he just call you sweets?

Before you could inquire on the nickname, your both jolted immediately forward and back feeling your ass rub against him. Secretly you liked it, wanting to do it more. You heard him yell for you to raise your arm up and to have fun bringing you out of your thoughts. Without processing you did as he said and focusing on the way you both moved together in a fluid motion. With 15 seconds left to hold on and moving together you start laughing hearing Jack curse every time you went back cause of gravity. His laugh started to come out at every sorry you bellowed when you hit his chest with a sold thump and your hair whipped him in the face.

At 10 seconds, Jack squeezed his legs pinning yours down to the side of the mechanical bull. You had to shift a little to accommodate which at this point along with the back and forth jolts that kept speeding up you were basically sitting on Jack’s crotch. He didn’t seem to mind it since you couldn’t get a hold strong enough not to slip off and take him down with you. You really didn’t want to let him down, so you squeezed your thighs tightly holding the reins for dear life. Those last five seconds went by so incredibly slow trying to maneuver the bull’s frantic turns from the side to side.

If you did happen to fall you didn’t care one bit, this was the most fun you’ve had since you moved. In a matter of seconds Jack made you feel welcomed and happy. He kept laughing long with you at every abrupt turn the machine made, at one point the turn was so fast both your hands touched that made his heart jump.

Everyone started to count down those last five seconds cheering.

Jack held onto you just like how he promised till you both succeeded, you slouched back on his chest resting your cramped hand on his muscular thighs feeling his arms wrap around your waist laughing. He rested his forehead on your shoulder somehow you knew he was smiling incredibly hard.

Exhausted he manages to speak, “I knew we could do it in 15 seconds, maybe next time it'll be longer”

Your cheeks burn squeezing his thigh, “Well aren’t you cocky? So sure there'll be a next time.”

He chuckles patting the sides of your ass which you take as your cue to hop off. Swinging your leg over is absolute pain, you feel the strain of each muscle and weakness trying hard not to wobble waiting for him to dismount.

Jack reaches for your hand providing stability, “Listen sweets, I’m not the one that was sitting on my crotch pressing down.”

You bit your lip laughing up at him, he loved seeing that shine in your eyes.

Exiting the bull riding ring, Jack leads you both to the bar area to get celebratory drinks together. He lets you sit on the one stool available, most likely noticing how tired your legs were from holding on. He stands behind you with one hand resting on the bar table while the other signals for two beers. You find yourself loving being pressed to his chest, like he's shielding you from everything bad in the world even the constant whispers.

You turn your body slowly to look up at him from under your lashes slowly opening your legs for him to fit closer between. Jack steps forward titling his head down a little using his arms on the table to balance himself. He finds himself a bit shaky in the knees watching you look up at him with those eyes, the same eyes that looked at him earlier with such joy. He needed to get to know you.

He leans forward barely touching your forehead testing the waters with you and what you'd allow from him. The bartender already placed the beers behind your back, but they were completely ignored.

“You called me sweets earlier, why?”

There was no possible way he wasn’t the one that told his dad to give you that pie. The gesture itself made you ignore everything Charlie ever said about him, he could’ve just stayed with the red head if he really wanted to get laid or flat out ignore you. You just wanted to hear him say he thought of you in his own way.

His eyes darken staring down at your lips, he shrugs “I had a feeling you might have a liking for sweet things, I noticed you eyeing it, and you looked like a sweetheart..”

He looks down at your body biting his lower lip smirking, “But something tells me you're not just a sweetheart...”

You grin raising your hands that were resting on your thighs up to the line of his jeans hooking a finger in the center teasingly side to side, eventually bringing him in closer slowly, “That was a good guess. I do like all kinds of sweet things. Sweet candy, pastries, even sweet guys that help you learn how to ride a fake bull.”

Jack holds back a deep groan from hearing you say that about him. Everyone in this town thinks he’s no good which isn’t true he’s not a kid anymore, but people here don’t forget. They’re always waiting for him to mess up, but with you it’s not like that. He wants to know more about you, but right now all he cares about is what you taste like. He's desperate to kiss your lips, feel how soft they are.

Watching him lean closer you lick your lips in anticipation taking in his cologne that further draws you to his lips.

With all the noise around you both vanishing, all you cared about was Jack.

You reach up to feel his plump lips meet yours, kissing him you feel him moan savoring your taste. Jack loves the way you still have the lingering taste of the pie you chose and the beer. It's as if the combination was made for specially for him with your lips in mind. He roughly growls wrapping his arms around your waist at the feel of your hands grip his hair.

Parting slowly away you both come back to the reality of where you are. You chuckle wiping off your kiss from his lips with your hand that he catches bringing it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles noting the strong grip you have.

Jack reaches for the beers opening each cap handing yours smiling as you both take a sip.

“So you told your dad about me huh?" You asked playfully raising your brows.

He rolls his eyes grinning so hard that the corner of his eyes form small creases.

Without hesitation he asks if you’d like to meet him to which you happily jumped off the stool agreeing to the idea. You tell your friends you’ll be leaving for the night letting them know you’re okay and will talk to them tomorrow. Heading back to Jack’s dad you both walk silently together with his arm lazily wrapped around your shoulders dangling and yours holding on to his waist.

This time you both pay no mind to the whispers and glares of people walking by at the carnival.

Only having eyes for each other.

»»»»»»»❀«««««««

Permanent Pedro Boys Tags: @mandocrasis, @frenchfryfranki, @snow30285, @greeneyedblondie44, @javierpinme, @sharkbait77, @kirsteng42, @beskarboobs, @cozy-pie, @littlefrescita, @mswarriorbabe80, @leannawithacapitala, @heythere-mel, @voteforpedro09, @just-here-for-the-moment, @djarinladylatin

Whiskey's Agents: @hnt-escape, @woodlandmouth, @demoneyesanddamagedsouls

#agent jack whiskey daniels #agent jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels #Jack Daniels x Sweets #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

69 notes · View notes

marvelobsessedteenager · 4 years ago

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, description of an explosion and blood.

Summary: Peter Parker. What a dick. It wasn’t always like this, but once he just got up and gladly left you for an unknown reason, you decided to bring hell down on him by publicly ridiculing him whenever you got the chance. However, when you accidentally find out what he's been hiding, conflicted feelings begin emerging, causing you to wonder if you could ever forgive him — especially when he saves your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: this came to me in a fucking dream so you bet I had to wake up and write this. It’s already completed hehe. I’m going to be posting the parts every day so stay tuned :D

----------------------------------------

Never in your entire life would you have thought that there’d be a time when you’d willingly side with Flash. When you’d join him in bullying Peter, your best friend that you’d known since the both of you were shitting yourselves in diapers. Not a night goes by in which you don’t ask yourself why.

Why did he decide to break you?

The day he told you he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore was a day worse than finding out your father had cheated on your mother, prompting her to abruptly exit both your and your father’s lives when you were eleven. In all honesty, it felt like Peter took notes about suddenly leaving when you cried to him about your mother disappearing and used them to his advantage the summer before freshman year.

It was a pain like no other, a wound so hurtful your tear tank was constantly emptied every time you were alone in your room. There were too many nights where you’d lie awake with an ache in your chest - like someone dropped an avalanche on your heart and left it there to crush it.

Friendship breakups hurt like hell.

The days seemed to move slow and the nights even slower. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you’d blankly stare at your collection of photos of the two of you with tear stricken cheeks.

You constantly wondered if he regretted it.

And if he did, you told yourself you’d forgive him. You’d go back to him, because you were sure he didn’t mean it. Excuses began piling up in your mind, each one not having enough evidence to be proven true; maybe he was going through something he didn’t want to talk about. Maybe someone in his life died, like when Uncle Ben suddenly passed away. He didn’t speak to you for a week and didn’t show up to school, and when you went over to check on him, he broke down in your arms as he apologized for ignoring you, but you understood.

You always did.

So, you waited, and waited, and waited. Waited for a call, a text, something. But nothing ever came. No phone calls — he ignored yours — no apologies, no explanation, nothing but radio silence. It was almost like you never existed in the first place.

Day by day your hope slowly faded, and by the 56th day, all of it was gone. You didn’t know how to feel. You were furious at him for abandoning you. You were heartbroken. You told yourself you were being overdramatic — it wasn’t like you were in a relationship together, no matter how much you wanted to be.

All he ever saw you as was a friend. But that was before it all happened. Now he probably didn’t see you as anything but a stranger.

A stranger with memories and secrets revolving him.

Hot anger was quick to take control of your mind, and soon you stopped your crying and tore down years worth of captured memories and pinned birthday cards he made you - all reminders of how much you loved him - and threw them into a box. You shoved it to the back of your closet, along with your dignity and love for him.

Four months after your ‘breakup', you came back different. Newfound confidence shone out of you with every step you made down Midtown’s hallways. Your smile radiated happiness as you felt everyone’s eyes lay upon you. You were able to fool yourself and others around you that nothing happened. Your heart knew better, but soon it’d turn to stone.

And you convinced yourself that you preferred it that way.

You moved on, found friendship in others, and although they never lived up to him, they were enough to fill part of the gaping hole in your heart.

Flash making amends with you was probably the most surprising and unexpected thing to have ever happened in the school. You two got along well, almost too well, and about halfway into the school year, you became good friends. You two weren’t as close as you and Peter once were, but you bonded over your absent parents in ways you didn’t know were possible.

You felt understood, and he the same.

Still, that didn’t stop you from seeing Peter in the hallways. You made it a point to walk past him like you didn’t know him — because apparently, you didn’t.

You kept watching him from a distance.

You watched him make goo-goo eyes at Liz while rolling your own.

You watched him dart out of school at exactly two forty-five every day. You saw the anxiousness in the way he bounced his leg during class, the tapping of his pencil on the desk, the constant glances he threw at the clock with every minute that passed. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t.

On a particular day, the same day you overheard him and Ned making plans to meet up at his house to build Legos, you decided to go to Delmar’s to grab a bite. You hadn’t been there since the breakup, as you were always too nervous in case Peter ended up going there at the same time, and now that there was a clearing, you took it. Even if he was there, you didn't care.

You don’t.

When you stepped into the store, you were immediately welcomed by the one and only Mr. Delmar. He looked good — happy and content, and that’s why you absolutely adored him. It wasn’t fair that you cut off ties with him because of Peter, but he didn’t seem to take it personally. He went on and on about how much taller you’ve gotten and reminisced about how little you were when you and Peter got your first flattened number five sandwiches with pickles.

He must’ve seen your smile falter at the mention of Peter, because his eyebrows furrowed in concern not a moment later, “Did something happen to you kids? I never see him come with you anymore.”

So he’s been coming without you.

Ouch. That’s another stab to the heart.

Your palms began to feel slick as you rubbed them on your jeans with a strained smile and a shaky voice, feeling as if the walls were closing in on you, “Uh-we-“

But you never got to finish. Mr. Delmar’s eyes widened at something behind you, and in a split second, he yelled, “Get down!” followed by a string of Spanish curse words.

A scream left your mouth as a purple wave of something ripped through the bodega, nearly missing you by a strand of hair as you ducked. Shattered glass scattered everywhere, digging into the skin of your arms in a multitude of places. You hissed at the burn you felt below your eye, feeling a heavy liquid (which you assumed was blood) trail down your cheek and neck. You felt intense heat near your legs and your vision became blurred, ears ringing as all other noises besides your breathing became muffled. You coughed and coughed, feeling like your lungs were closing in on themselves from the fire that surrounded you.

The light above you flickered as you attempted to shout Mr. Delmar’s name, praying that he was all right.

But your voice never left your throat.

Your legs were trapped below two giant shelves that collapsed on them, and you weren’t strong enough to move them no matter how many times you tried to. The fire slithered like a snake as it began climbing to where your legs were being held below the rubble.

“Help.” You weakly whispered in between your coughs. The air around you felt heavy and limited, and it was starting to feel like you were choking on the fumes. You didn’t know how much longer your lungs could take.

It was hot. So fucking hot.

Your eyes shut and your head fell back on the ground, chest heaving in fast paces as you felt your body give up already, a burning sensation spreading all over you, like your insides were set on fire.

Your face trickled with sweat that dripped down to your cheeks, mixing with your tears.

Just when all hope was gone, just when you thought you were done for, you felt the weight lift off of your legs in one sudden movement, and an arm slide beneath your knees and on your back, holding you tightly.

You looked up at your savior, and who else could it have been other than Spider-Man, New York’s knight in shining armor, and apparently yours, too. You heard part of what he seemed to be saying as he looked down at you: “…got…I…you” and you could’ve sworn you heard your name.

But then again, you were on the brink of death, so you were no doubt hearing things.

You laid your tired head on his chest, wheezing into his smooth suit as he ran and jumped away from the fire until he reached the outside. He gingerly placed you on the ground and made you lean back against a parked car, and you breathed in the cool night air as he crouched down to rub your back while you practically choked.

In front of Spider-Man.

How embarrassing.

You felt your head heavily fall back as you clutched your arm in pain, the distant sound of police sirens audible now. Your eyes landed upon his covered face that turned away when you looked at him - like he was staring at you until you caught him. You could see that he wanted to go somewhere in the way that his spidey-eyes were expanding and shrinking at the destroyed bank across the street. You moved to touch your legs, and by some miracle, they were just a little sore. You could manage on your own.

“Go,” you breathily said, making Spider-Man look down at you, “I’m okay.”

He hesitated for a moment and pivoted his head to your legs. You breathed out half a laugh, coughing again, “Dude,” you placed a hand on his shoulder and jutted towards your legs as you began moving them, “they’re fine. I’m fine. I know you wanna go somewhere. Just go after it.”

He stayed. For a long minute, just watching you breathe and tilt your head at him. You wondered what was going on in that brain of his, wondered how old he was, wondered where he went to school - if he even went to school. You were trying to formulate a way to thank him for saving you, but you didn’t get the chance to. He nodded and quickly he sprung away, making way for the paramedics and cops to inspect the scene.

You didn’t go to school for a whole week after the incident, as you were too busy reflecting on what had happened. You went over multiple scenarios and “what if’s” and tried not to dwell on the fact that you had to have your driver pick you up from the hospital, not your father. He was probably out of the country, like he always was.

When you finally returned to school, you had stitched up three areas, including one below your eye, and were bombarded with questions and a large group hug from your friends. Your phone was no doubt a goner, so they had no way of contacting you. Even when they tried to come over, your housekeeper, Jane, always the responsible adult, told them the doctor needed you to rest alone.

She knew you couldn’t handle people, and needed to recharge on your own. She was like the mother you never had. Even when Peter left, she stayed by your side and tried to cheer you up. She knew how strong your feelings were for Peter, but she didn’t question you, instead allowing you to grieve the way you wanted to - alone.

Your friends asked you about what happened, and their eyes sparkled when you told them the Spider-Man came to your rescue, their excitement cutting short once the bell rang. They all left to go to their classes after wishing you a quick recovery. All but one.

Flash stood in front of you, nibbling on his lower lip with a wobbling chin and glassy eyes.

“Are you..crying?” you squinted at him, lips twitching into a smirk.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, wiping the stray tears before attacking you with a tight hug. You sighed deeply, feeling a nostalgic warmth spread through your chest as you placed your chin on his shoulder, arms circulating him and squeezing in a way that said "I’m here."

In class, you felt hardcore stares — stares that came from one person and one person only. You saw them from the corner of your eye, tracing the scar on your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were laced with worry. But perhaps you hit your head too hard.

During gym class, the last class of the day, you were excused from exercises due to your near-death experience, so you watched and cheered Flash as he climbed the ropes, attempting to break his own record.

“48 seconds.” You stated, pausing the timer as he jumped to the ground and planted his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

He looked up at you with a deep frown, “Seriously? How did I get slower?”

You shrugged, “Maybe you should change your nickname, Eugene.” You smirked, taunting him with the name you knew he hated.

He breathed out a laugh as he shook his head. He was about to say something when Ned’s voice overpowered everyone else’s with one sentence: “Peter knows Spider-Man!”

Everybody went so silent you’d think the queen of England had just walked in.

The sound of balls being dropped and shoes squeaking echoed through the gym as all heads turned to Peter Parker, who nervously looked around and quickly stood up, “Uh, no! No, I don’t. I-I mean..”

He clumsily made his way over to Liz (go figure), whose face remained expressionless.

“They’re friends,” Ned said as a matter of factly.

“Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash said, making a couple of people laugh, including you.

“I’ve met him, yeah, a-a couple of times. But it’s um, through the...Stark...Internship. I’m not really supposed to talk about it.” He gritted through his teeth as he threw daggers at Ned with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s awesome!” You piped in, your loud sarcasm breaking the silence that settled over the gym, "He’s a pretty cool guy, I’m sure Liz would love to meet him. Hey, maybe you should invite him to her party.”

“Yeah, I’m having people over tonight, you’re more than welcome to come.” Liz sweetly admitted, almost like she wanted him to come.

Ew.

“You’re having a party?” Peter said breathlessly, as if that wasn’t what you just said.

Flash gave Peter a snarling smile, “Yeah, it’s gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spider-Man.” He suggested, derision oozing out of his words.

“Um-“ Peter stammered, helpless eyes searching for assistance in your own. But you wouldn’t give him any sympathy. Not anymore. You stared back, cold as ice, and you knew he saw that. You merely gave him a raised eyebrow, challenging him to say something.

“It’s okay,” Liz said, breaking you and Peter’s eye contact, “I know Peter’s way too busy for parties anyways so..”

“Oh, come on, he’ll be there. Parker wouldn’t ditch.” You said, voice dripping with venom as you maintained eye contact with him and walked past Flash until you reached him. You stopped at his side, just enough to give him a deadly stare, “Right?”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob and eyes dart across the ground as his fingers tangled with one another to conceal his shaking left hand. You studied his face, ignoring something that looked like a fading bruise on his jaw. The school bell rang, and with that, Flash walked to you, raising his hand for a fist pump. You bumped yours with his with a smirk and walked out the gym doors, ready to call Peter out on his bullshit once more tonight.

Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader

116 notes · View notes

lastbluetardis · 3 years ago

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #yet another iteration of james and rose lmao #romance #meet cute #light angst #musician au #my fic #sacred new beginnings

41 notes · View notes

thebookreader12345 · 4 years ago

Text

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: Y/N is the newest member of Squad 3, and when out on a dive rescue, things take a turn for the worse

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing and a near death experience

Word Count: 2,064 Words

“Everyone, can I have your attention please” Chief Boden announced to his firefighters, who all turned to look at him, meaning they saw me standing next to him. I had my hands tucked into the pockets of my jacket, and I was rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. “I want you all to meet Y/N L/N. She’s going to be filling the open spot on Squad 3.”

“Uh, hey,” I say and wave shyly at the group of people sitting in front of me. For a second, the room was quiet, but it wasn’t long before a blonde haired woman stood up and rushed over to me, wrapping me in a big hug.

“I can’t believe we’ve finally got another girl! You’re going to love it here. I promise. I’m Sylvie Brett” the woman stated.

“Nice to meet you. I was the only girl in my old Firehouse, so when I walked up, I was really hoping there’d be a girl here. By the way, whoever owns the mustang parked out front, nice whip” I comment.

“The Mustangs mine” a man with salt and pepper hair spoke and raised his hand. My eyes immediately gravitated over to him, and when I saw who had spoken, my cheeks flushed. The stereotype for a firefighter was a young, handsome, muscular man, and the guy in front of me fit the description perfectly.

“Oh, Y/N, this is Kelly Severide, your lieutenant,” Sylvie told me.

“Nice to meet you, Cap’n” I speak and give him a small smile.

“Where you from, L/N?” Kelly asked me after he heard me use foreign slang for the second time this morning, the first being when I said “whip.”

“The Big Apple. I just moved here a few weeks ago,” I answer.

“NYC, huh? Why’d you move?” a man, who’s jacket read Cruz, questioned.

“Family reasons” I stammer out. “But I’d prefer that we don’t talk about. Lets just say I wanted a change of scenery. Chicago is very different from New York, but good different, you know? I like it here.”

Just then, an alarm blared from everywhere in the building, and everyone shot up out of their seats, heading towards the apparatus floor. Now I knew one similarity between New York City and Chicago; there’s never a boring day at work.

“Follow me,” Kelly ordered and took my arm, leading me out of the break room. “I’ve got a few rules. One, obey my orders. I don’t like firefighters who exhibit insubordinate behavior, and I absolutely hate doing paperwork for that. Two, if you’ve got a suggestion for how to approach a situation, speak up. I don’t come up with all of the good ideas. And three, never stand around doing nothing. There’s always people who need help, so help them.”

“All right. I think I’ve got it,” I say as we got to the apparatus floor where my gear was already laid out for me.

“Oh, and L/N, welcome to Firehouse 51,” Kelly said.

..................................................

It had been a few weeks since I started on Squad 3, and I was loving every minute of it. Capp and Tony, the other two guys on Squad besides Kelly and I, were very funny and easy to get along with, so I had no problem fitting in. The rest of Firehouse 51 was also inviting, and I really felt at home here. However, there was definitely one thing I enjoyed the most, and that was hanging out with Kelly. Every shift, when things were slow, Kelly and I would sit on the roof together. He would smoke cigars while I chewed on my polar ice gum, and we would have conversations, whether it be about something stupid Otis had done that day, or something in our personal lives outside of work.

“Oh. Did I tell you about the prank I played on Mouch the other day?” I ask Kelly and blow a bubble, popping it with my lips.

“I don’t think so,” Kelly said and took another hit of his cigar. “What’d you do?”

“I stole his secret stash of chocolate” I admit. “And then I blamed it all on Otis.”

Kelly laughed and glanced over at me, meeting my gaze. I could feel myself getting red, so I turned away and looked at the sky. I had a huge confession to make, and it was that I had gained a crush on my lieutenant.

“Um, Kelly, there’s something I have to tell you” I confess.

Kelly put his cigar down on his tray and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, clasping his hands together in front of him. “What is it?” he asked.

Just before I could tell him that I had feelings for him, the alarm went off inside of the firehouse calling for Squad 3, dive rescue. I got out of my chair and made my way over to the ladder, sliding down it expertly like I had done many times before. Getting my gear on took seconds, and as soon as all of us were in the truck, Tony started the engine and drove out of the garage. It didn’t take long before we got to the river, where a young, red haired woman, who was drenched in water, was waiting for us.

“You have to help them. Please,” she begged.

“Ma’am, calm down. Who do we need to help?” I ask.

“Them,” the woman shouted and pointed out into the middle of the river where a boat was submerged halfway underwater. I could make out a few people on the deck, and at the moment, it looked like they were all safe.

“Can none of them swim?” Kelly questioned as we started putting on our gear, which was basically a second skin to us.

“No. I’m the only one who can” the woman responded. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. We just wanted to get one last ride in before summer ended.”

“Hey. Everything is going to be okay........” At the moment, I realized I didn’t know the woman’s name.

“Marissa. My name’s Marissa” the woman said.

“That’s a beautiful name. I’m Y/N. I promise that we’re going to get everyone to safety” I say and grab my oxygen tank from the truck, slinging it on my back.

The rescue itself did not take long. The four of us each took about two trips to the boat, easily getting the people back to land. However, as soon as I began taking off my wet suit, the panic started.

“Where’s Davie? Where’s my son?” a man called out and looked around. I glimpsed over to the boat, and that’s when my eyes caught sight of a boy struggling to stay above water.

“Kelly,” I alert him and point to the water.

Kelly followed my finger, and when he saw where I was pointing, he cursed. “Our tanks are out of oxygen. We never refilled them after the last dive.”

“That’s cool. I’ll just go in without one” I say and step out of my suit.

“Hell no. Y/N, that water is freezing cold. You’re not going out there. I’ll call in for backup,” Kelly announced.

“What? No. By the time you do that, that kid’ll be dead. On my first day on squad, you told me to never stand around because there are always people that need help. That kid needs help, so I’m going to help with” I share before jumping into the water.

As soon as my skin touched the water, I began to shiver at how cold it was, but I pushed past that and continued swimming. Kelly was calling my name from the shore, but I ignored him and kept going. When I was a few feet from the boy, he sank beneath the waves.

“Shit” I mumble and take a deep breath. Then, I dove deeper into the water, my eyes scanning everywhere for the boy. That’s when I saw Davie struggling to swim to the surface not far from me. He was holding his breath, which was a good sign, and he was still conscious. I swam over to him and got behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I kicked my feet in an attempt to propel us up and out of the water, but the current was too strong. I was starting to loose my breath, and I could tell Davie was too, so I did what any firefighter would do; save the victim first. I pushed Davie as hard as I could to the surface, hoping that someone else could get to him, and that’s when I felt the sudden urge to breathe. I couldn’t hold my breath anymore, and when I breathed, all I took in was water. Suddenly, I got lightheaded, my eyes drifted shut, and I lost consciousness deep in the Chicago River.

Kelly’s POV

I waited a few minutes, and Y/N still hadn’t resurfaced with Davie. Where the hell was she? At that moment, Davie appeared back on the surface, but Y/N was nowhere to be found.

“Capp, go out and get the kid. Now!” I demand. “I’m going to look for Y/N.” Capp nodded and jumped into the water with me following close behind. I swam out to where Davie was, and as Capp took the boy, I dove under the water. I looked around, hoping to find Y/N, and thankfully, I did, but she was unconscious. I made my way over to her, grabbed her body, and kicked towards the surface. When I got above the water, I tugged Y/N’s body with me to shore. Tony and Capp helped me lift her out of the water, and when I got back onto land, I pressed my ear against her chest. She wasn’t breathing.

“I’m going to call an ambulance,” Tony informed me and rushed towards the truck.

I took a deep breath, pinched Y/N’s nose, tilted her head back, and then I placed my mouth to hers. I breathed into her mouth a few times, and when I pulled away, I watched to see if she began breathing again, but she wasn’t. “Come on” I cry out and breathe into her mouth some more.

“Ambulance is 5 minutes out,” Tony said to me.

“She doesn’t have 5 minutes. Come on Y/N. Breathe,” I mumble and press my mouth to hers again. No matter how many times I tried, Y/N did not seem to come back. Just as I was about to give up, Y/N turned her head to the side and coughed up water. “Y/N! Thank god you’re okay.”

Y/N’s POV

The feeling of water leaving my lungs did not feel good. As I continued retching, Kelly helped me turn my body so that I wasn’t choking on my own spit and whatever else was coming up my throat. I coughed one more time and sucked in a huge breath before laying back down on the pavement.

“Y/N,” Kelly spoke and cupped my face with his hands.

“Hey, Cap’n,” I mutter and give him a tired smile.

“What did I say about following orders? You know I hate filing insubordination charges,” Kelly said.

“Maybe you can forget about that just this one time,” I whisper as I heard ambulance sirens getting closer.

“Only if you promise to never do that again. I mean it,” Kelly told me.

“Okay. Deal. Look, there’s something I never got to tell you,” I manage to breath out.

Kelly only smiled and pressed his lips to mine, giving me a quick kiss. “I like you too,” he assured me as an ambulance parked a few feet away from us. “Just focus on getting better now, okay? I promise we can talk about all of this as soon as you’re back in business.”

“Sounds good to me. Hey, could you ride with me in the ambo?” I ask. “I may or may not be afraid of hospitals.”

Kelly laughed and kissed my forehead. “Of course. Now, lets get you treated. I want my girl back on Squad as soon as possible.”

“Your girl? I thought we were talking about that later,” I say with a grin.

“Just shut up and accept it,” Kelly said.

“All right. I can’t believe Kelly Severide, the Lieutenant of Squad 3 and the hottest firefighter in Chicago likes me. I can get used to this,” I murmur.

___________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @anotherfan07 @giagma

#kelly severide #kelly severide x reader #chicago fire #squad 3 #firefighters #kelly severide imagines #x reader #one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagines #one chicago imagine #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagines #chicago fire imagine #kelly severide imagine

488 notes · View notes

early2000smovieimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting and Dating Hermione Granger

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I’m sorry but Hermione in her uniform is beautiful.)

- You and Hermione meet during your first year at Hogwarts. The two of you wound up being partners in potions class and we all know how Hermione is when it comes to her schoolwork.

- She’s very much so the “here let me do it” sort of person when she sees that you’re doing something wrong. Not that you mind; you aren’t exactly keen on getting on Snape’s bad side.

- She’s also very adamant on teaching you how to do things and having you try again; after she shows you the correct way to do them, which gives her the chance to look at you more closely and say to herself “wow she’s pretty”.

- Initially, she sort of just thinks that she’s envious of your good looks or that she finds herself looking at you merely because you’re pretty and people like looking at pretty things. It’s only after a bit of reflecting that she realizes she likes you more than a person likes flowers.

- The only logical conclusion is that she has a crush on you and …oh dear.

- Yeah, Hermione isn’t …the best with crushes. The minute she realizes that she likes you, she turns into a bit of an awkward mess.

- She’ll say somewhat strange things before nervously trying to correct herself. She’ll touch you for a bit too long or without meaning to before jumping away upon realizing what she’s doing. She’ll give you handshakes instead of hugs when you greet each other or do good on a joint project or what have you. Etc, etc, etc.

- She’ll do whatever she can to hang out with you one day while avoiding you like the plague the next; usually because she’s having a bad hair day or something similar. The boys are clueless as to why she’s acting strange but they agree to help her with whatever she asks; usually meaning that they help her hide from you.

- Once the two of you become friends; which is somewhat inevitable with Hermione and the people she likes since she’ll force herself into their lives, she’ll subtly hint at a relationship between the two of you and try to find out more about you and your type.

- There’s going to be a lot of mutual pining. Hermione’s obviously pretty so of course you’ll fall for the strong willed, activist girl who’s now your best friend. And she’s been in love with you since first year but it’ll take a while for her to admit her feelings.

- Viktor Krum probably found out Hermione liked you midway through fourth year and immediately began hyping her up, teasing and telling her to confess her feelings to you. He also probably got you a date to the Yule ball and you four hung out all night because he’s a sweetheart but I digress.

- The thing is, you’re now close friends and she doesn’t want to lose that, so she ends up spewing her feelings out in a fit of desperate frustration. She calls you an idiot, telling you that she loves you and has loved you for years, and if you’re too stupid to notice then nothing; not even her tutoring sessions, can help you, and you’re too stunned to even be offended.

- So there she is, standing there and trying to catch her breath, close to tears and embarrassed before you finally manage to find your words. You tell her that she’ll have to deal with your stupidity forever now because you like her too.

- She takes a deep breath, furrowing her eyebrows slightly and nervously saying “you …do.”, like she’s trying to quickly process what you’ve just said; as though she anticipated a wildly different response.

“Good.” She says after a moment, nodding as she does so. She says the words in a stunted, sort of relieved tone, like someone who didn’t expect an issue to be resolved as soon as it was.

- The two of you have your first date at Hogsmeade where you sort of just wander around the village and talk, trying to bond while enjoying a bit of privacy. Harry and Ron probably show up midway through and she tries her best to signal with her eyes that this “isn’t a good time” before she’s forced to give a pointed, whisper yelled “could you two please leave”.

- Hermione tends to give a lot of cheek and head kisses to the people she’s close to and you would not be exempt from this. Just saying.

- The two of you share your first kiss about a month or so after your first date. She’d been stressing over something and you’d laid a hand on her shoulder, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright until she finally managed to calm down.

- Later on, as you were getting up to leave, she’d leaned over and planted a soft, somewhat chaste kiss on your lips before you both made your way out of the room. You had smiles on your faces for the rest of the day.

- Congratulations, you’ve managed to score the brightest witch in all of Hogwarts. Consider yourself a very lucky girl; she certainly considers herself to be one.

- The wizarding world seems pretty progressive all things considered so pda isn’t a taboo when it comes to your relationship. She’s more than happy to engage in it though she keeps it polite and innocent out of pure preference.

- Her slinging her arm around your shoulder.

- Tight hugs; especially when you’re reunited after a long time or you come back from something dangerous.

- Handholding.

- Cheek and head kisses.

- Sweet and soft kisses.

- Abrupt and passionate kisses; usually after a surge of emotion courses through her. She’ll occasionally get flustered and apologize for getting ahead of herself, as though you’re not in a relationship.

- She usually just calls you by your given name but occasionally she’ll call you something like honey or dear.

- The two of you cuddle laying on your sides with your arms wrapped around each other. Sometimes Crookshanks will wiggle his way between your bodies and you’ll get a nose full of cat hair but you get used to it.

- Speaking of the orange baby: plucking cat hair from each other’s clothing and taking turns snuggling the endearingly ugly creature.

- Helping her carry all the books she lugs around.

- Getting matching bracelets/necklaces.

- Helping her with her hair.

- Compliments; the two of you are constantly praising each other. She tends to comment on your schoolwork like how you’ve improved so much or congratulating you on doing so well on an exam.

- She’s “secretly” really fond of making you little cards and origami. She lives for Valentine’s Day and you can’t help but find it adorable.

- Supporting S.P.E.W. and wearing one of her badges; whether or not you agree with it.

- Quiet days spent inside. The two of you usually just sit in one of your dorms or the library, talking about whatever comes to mind or doing your own things.

- Study dates.

- Assuring her she’s going to do great on tests. She always gets really stressed and frazzled before a big exam so you always have to make sure she breathes and relaxes a bit.

- She’s always jumping to help you in any way she can, and she always has the knowledge to do so.

- Writing letters to each other over the summer.

- Sitting together in the courtyard.

- Going to The Three Broomsticks and getting a bit tipsy off butter beer. She’s a lightweight.

- Having a cute little book club. The two of you take turns reading to each other and discussing the different novels you’ve read.

- Playing the piano together.

- Baking together.

- Play fighting. The two of you do that cute, grabbing each other’s arms and trying to push each other while giggling sort of thing that couples do.

- Having your dates interrupted by the boys. The two of them are going to be completely clueless about your relationship for a while before finally catching on and giving you more space; unless something oh so important happens.

- Tagging along and helping the golden trio whenever you can. You’re a certified member of their clique by now.

- Cheering the boys on at Quidditch games together. The two of you are usually huddled close to keep warm.

- Speaking of cheering: she's your biggest cheerleader. She’s always wishing you good luck and rooting for you and giving you an enthusiastic whoop; even if it makes people give her funny looks.

- Breaking her out of her shell and getting her to let loose a little more. She feels the need to constantly be put together and perfect and you do your best to reassure her that, sometimes, she can just have fun.

- Dancing together.

- Whenever she’s really excited and/or really wants your attention for one reason or another and you have homework, she always ends up impatiently snatching it with a “give it here” before doing it for you and launching into whatever it is she wanted from you.

- Being on the receiving end of her scolding looks. You always get one if you’ve done something or are doing something wrong.

- Comforting her. She’s a bit sensitive and cries sort of easily; particularly when she’s angry which she gets embarrassed about, so you’re always there to make her feel better.

- She’s constantly checking you over and taking care of you when you’re hurt and/or sick. It helps to have a half blood girlfriend who knows nearly every spell like the back of her hand.

- She always just seems to understand you and know how you’re feeling. She’ll always be there to give advice and comfort you.

- Defending her from wizard racism. You might not stand up for yourself but you sure as hell are willing to hex a man half to death for saying something about her.

- She has a habit of grabbing onto you when she’s scared so expect to have her wrapped around you or holding your hand in a death grip whenever anything spooky occurs.

- Hermione is smart enough to tell when something is entirely platonic so she doesn’t get jealous very often. It’s only when someone shows actual interest in you that she gets a bit self conscious. She can usually keep herself in check but she’ll occasionally tell you that they were flirting with you in an exasperated tone before you reassure her that you don’t want them.

- She’s more protective in the “I’m going to take care of you” sort of way but she has been known to throw a punch at or use a hex on someone who hurts you or your feelings. She worries over you a lot so rest assured, if you’re upset/hurt, she’ll be right by your side fussing over you.

- She hates being wrong so that’s where most of your arguments probably stem from. You really don’t have a lot of arguments though, all things considered. She’s perfectly capable of communicating her feelings so you rarely need to fight about anything; at least not for long.

- She has a habit of holding grudges and won’t want to admit she’s wrong so expect her to take a bit of time before she says she’s sorry. If she’s proven right then she’ll pointedly say that “well, someone owes someone an apology” but if she’s proven wrong she’ll admit that she owes you one.

- She’s a big softie so she tells you that she loves you quite a bit; mainly in private though she isn’t afraid to say it in public.

- She’s gonna go places and she’s taking you with her. After everything that happened, the two of you enjoy a peaceful, fulfilling life together and she couldn’t be happier.

#hermione granger imagine #hermione granger headcanon #hermione granger headcanons #hermione granger imagines #hp headcanons #hp headcanon #hp imagine #hp imagines #harry potter headcanons #harry potter imagines

170 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Serendipity - Part V. (Harry Styles)

a/n: so this is it, this is the end of the story of Lis and Harry! if you are still reading this thank you for sticking around till the end and an even bigger thank you to those of you who took the time and energy to send me their thoughts about the story!! i hope you liked it, and if you’d like, pls come talk to me about the story, my askbox is wide open!!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 13.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

Lis decides not to change their plans and let Benji stay at her parents’ for the next week as well, giving her and Harry some more alone time that they surely use to the last bit. These two weeks are enough to make him think about a possible, preferably near future when they get to spend every day together like this, where he can come home to her already cooking something or just lounging on the couch, when they don’t have to pack overnight bags whenever they want to spend the night together.

He can only hope Lis is feeling the same way about them, because now he is determined to make it a reality.

The next few weeks go over their head faster than they could realize. Benji spends some time home before he leaves for a week of camping, something he has been so excited about, rambling about it every possible given time.

Though Harry would love to spend that week again with Lis, but it’s painfully interrupted with a trip to LA he just can’t put away. His new album is debuting in August and tour will kick off in October, things are starting to pile up and he can’t get everything done from London, no matter how badly he would want that.

He has been torn, with the tour slowly but surely coming up, because part of him can’t wait to get back to performing, but another part is breaking for how he won’t be able to see Lis or Benji whenever he wants to. He wishes they could just come with him, but he knows it’s not possible.

He tried his best to mess around with the dates so he can come back to London as much as possible and at the end he managed to give himself three to five days off every three weeks to fly home. They talked through it all, several times, bracing themselves already for the times that were about to come.

Harry is at rehearsals this one day when oddly, Lis shows up there, something she has never done before, that’s how Harry knows something is up. Calling for a quick break he leaves the room with her, worried what it could be.

“Hey, everything alright? You’re not picking Benji up today?” he asks, knowing well at this time she should already be at the school.

“Chloé offered to do it for me. Harry, sorry for coming here, I just… I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to talk to you about it.”

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he tells her and taking her hands he pulls her to the small sofa in the corner so they can sit and talk. She is clearly upset and it’s starting to trigger Harry as well.

“I, uhh—I don’t know how to start it so I’ll just get straight to the point. Austin showed up at my work today.”

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat at the mention of the name. He just put the whole Austin situation behind him, the thought was stuck on his mind for way too long and now that he was finally moving on, the dude showed up. He needs everything in him to calmly nod and encourage her to continue.

“He-He just… walked in. I swear I didn’t know anything about it, I was so shocked a-and I didn’t know what to do—Harry I—“

“Lis, calm down, alright? I know you didn’t know about it. Just tell me what happened, because I don’t know how much longer I can sit here left in the dark.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” she breathes out rubbing her face with one hand. “He said he wanted to talk and I was just about to leave for lunch, so he asked if he could join me. I didn’t want to go anywhere with him so we ended up just sitting at the back terrace. I was so panicked and scared and couldn’t even say a word for a while, because he looked so… different.” “Different as in how?”

“Like… looking back I can tell he was in a bad shape when we were still together and it turns out I was right, because he admitted to being a drug addict. But now he was like, this new person. He said he has been clean for two years now and he wanted to find me because his therapist suggested to reach out and try to make up for his past mistakes.”

While Harry’s hands are holding hers, his eyes now move to the floor ahead of him, trying to process all the new information that’s been thrown at him.

“When I finally recovered from the shock of seeing him my anger kind of took over and called him all these terrible things, shamed him for leaving his son and all that and he just… sat there. And at the end he said that I’m right and that he understands that I feel this way about him. He said that he’s been thinking about what he did a lot and he asked me if we could meet sometime when it’s not just my lunchtime, to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Harry asks with a frown.

“He… He said he wants to meet Benji,” Lis answers in a whisper. Harry’s eyes snap back to her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was not ready for this and he can tell Lis feels the same way.

“What did you tell him?”

“I said that I need to think about it. He left me his number and I told him I would contact him when I have decided.”

“How did he take it? I mean, I assume he wanted you to say yes right away…”

“He seemed to understand my decision. He said he completely agrees if I don’t want to let him see Benji ever again. This was so not like him, I was afraid he would snap, like he used to when we were younger, but he didn’t. He seemed like he really went through hell since I last saw him and he is just happy to… still be alive.”

Harry falls silent, not entirely sure what to think about the appearance of Benji’s father all of a sudden, confessing to be an ex drug addict and kind of apologizing for his mistakes before telling Lis that he wants to meet Benji. It’s a little too much all at once and the more time that passes without him talking, the more he is worrying Lis.

“Harry, please say something,” she breathes out her plea.

“I, uhh—Sorry, I’m just a little… overwhelmed I guess.”

“Are you mad?” she asks in panic.

“Mad? At you? Why would I be?”

“I don’t know, sorry, it’s just been a… long and tiring day for me,” she breathes out, leaning back on the sofa, her eyes closing for a few seconds.

“It’s a lot, yes. So why don’t we talk about this when I’m done here? I can’t keep up the guys too long. I can come over to yours when I’m done, yea?”

“But you said you had some stuff to work on tonight.”

“I can push that back, not a problem. Just go, get Benji from Chloé’s, drink a tea at home and I’ll be there by seven, alright?”

Lis nods as the two of them stand up. Harry pulls her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as she hugs his waist tightly.

“Sorry to interrupt your rehearsal,” she mumbles against his chest.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

She pushes herself up to her tippy toes and captures his lips in a sweet kiss, something she’s been aching to do all day, or at least since her encounter with Austin earlier.

“I love you,” she mumbles against his lips and those three little words instantly make him feel some kind of relief in the midst of this craziness.

“I love you too,” he smiles at her, pecking her lips gently before letting go of her and watching her walk out with one last, shy wave.

Hours later, Harry finally arrives to Annalise’s and as he lets himself in with the keys she has given him weeks ago, Benji launches in his way right away from the little pile of toys on the living room carpet.

“Harry! Harry!” The little boy smashes against his lower body, wrapping his arms around him, making his heart flutter. No matter how long or tiring his day was, being around him always makes it better.

“Hey, bud! How has school been?” he asks and leaning down he picks Benji up into his arm, holding him steadily against the side of his chest.

“Cool, we played basketball today! I don’t like it as much as football, but it’s pretty good.”

“Great,” he nods smiling. “Hi Chloé!” Harry calls out when he spots the woman sitting on the couch.

“Hi, how have you been?” she asks smiling warmly. The two of them have met earlier the summer, Chloé had been dying to meet him, especially after she started to see how much Lis has bloomed thanks to the man. They hit it off right away, but they didn’t expect anything less, since they are both so important in Annalise’s life and just want the best for her.

“Great, a little busy, but everything is alright,” he nods. “You?”

“Same, just working my ass off,” she huffs.

“Where’s Lis?”

“Shower. Told her to have a hot one, she was stressing way too much.”

“So she told you?”

“Yeah,” Chloé nods shortly, not wanting to talk about anything while Benji is present.

When Lis appears from upstairs she is wearing a hoodie and cotton shorts, her hair still wet, looking tired just like earlier, but looks a tad bit more relaxed thanks to the shower.

“Hey baby!” she smiles kissing him softly.

“Hey, feeling better?” he asks, rubbing her back gently.

“Kind of.”

“Alright, I’ll head out now. Call me whenever, alright?” Chloé tells, hugging her goodbye, doing the same with Harry as well.

“Thank you for today,” Lis tells her walking her to the door.

“Anytime. Good night, guys!” she calls out, Benji shouts her bye after her and then it’s just the three of them again.

Nothing is said about Austin until Benji is put to bed. When Lis closes his room’s door and walks into the living room, Harry is sitting there, the TV is off and he is staring ahead of him, deep in his thoughts.

“Hey,” she softly says, cuddling to his side on the couch, his arm instantly curling around her shoulders.

“Benji is knocked out?” he smiles softly and she nods. “Alright.”

There’s a short silence, neither of them knows how to address the situation, how to start the conversation that has to be brought up.

“So…” he quietly starts. “I assume you’ve been thinking about what Austin asked you.” “Haven’t really stopped thinking about it,” she sighs, pushing herself up so she can look into his eyes as they talk.

“And where did you end up?”

“I… don’t know, Harry,” she sighs in defeat. Though it’s a torturous situation, Harry knows he needs to be mature and reasonable, keep his jealousy far away, because it’s way more than just that.

“What are the things that make you want to say no to him?”

“If I let him meet Benji, I can’t have him do the same thing and disappear. Benji will remember it, unlike last time. I can’t risk him having such a major trauma.” Harry nods at her words.

“And do you think he’ll leave again?”

“Honestly?” she asks quietly and Harry nods again. “I feel like he was genuine. But that could mean nothing, I’m not naïve enough to think that I know him. Maybe I never did,” she adds in a whisper and Harry can feel his heart break.

He hasn’t been able to come to peace with everything Lis had to go through. In his book, she deserves the world yet she had to deal with living hell, raising Benji on her own because Austin didn’t feel like taking responsibility for his own child. If only Harry knew her then, he would have made sure to give her the world, because that’s what she deserves.

“What do you think about it?” she asks, snapping him out of his thoughts about her.

“About what?”

“Should I let him meet Benji?”

“I’m not sure I have a saying in it,” he truthfully answers, but Lis tilts her head to the side, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Of course you have, Harry. You are my partner and a very strong influence in Benji’s life. I value your opinion and I want to make this decision with you.”

Harry can’t push the smile back, her words mean the world to him, to know that she trusts him completely and entirely, that’s all he ever wanted.

Though jealousy is burning inside him to tell her he wouldn’t let Austin have even just a glance at Benji or her again, he knows it wouldn’t be his honest opinion. He knows how important it is for a little boy to have his father around even if he has missed out on the first years of his life and Harry only wants the best for Benji.

“I think that… you should give him a chance.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He deserves a second chance and you said he is willing to cooperate and do anything you ask him to. You can have a control over the situation, that’s the best case scenario.”

“I feel like, and tell me if it sounds stupid, but I think maybe I could ask Benji himself, if he even wants to meet him. I know he is just a kid, but I feel like he can have a great understanding of the situation to have an opinion of his own.”

“It’s not stupid, Lis. I think Benji is very smart and he’ll handle it just fine.”

“Maybe we can have a chat with him in the morning.”

“You want me to be there?” he asks surprised.

“Of course. I told you, you’re my partner, in everything,” she smiles before leaning closer to kiss him sweetly.

That night, when Lis is already fast asleep Harry is still awake, staring at the ceiling, mind racing about everything he learned today. He has never thought he would ever have to deal with Austin and deep down he wishes he just stayed wherever he has been all this time, but on the other hand, he doesn’t want to take away the chance from Benji to know his father. It feels like life has sent him a reminder that no matter how much he cares about that little boy and Annalise, he is not the father of Benji and he is not the one that connects Lis and her son on such a sacred level.

He barely hears the creaking of Benji’s door and his little feet tapping on the floor. When he pushes Annalise’s bedroom door open Harry sits straight up, alerted that something must be wrong.

“Harry?” he whispers shakily.

“Hey, Buddy. What’s wrong?”

“I had a bad dream. Can I sleep here with you and Mum?” he asks and Harry doesn’t hesitate to scoot more to the edge, making space for him in the middle while Lis is still asleep on the other side.

“Come ‘ere.”

Benji climbs up the bed and Harry pulls the cover over him as he settles in the middle. He only stays still for a moment before he moves closer to Harry, cuddling to his side which catches him by surprise at first. He doesn’t understand why he chose him when Lis is lying right there, but it’s a moment he surely will cherish for a long time, because he truly feels like Benji has let him in.

Wrapping his arm around the boy he lets his head sink back into the pillow, gently rubbing Benji’s back until they both finally fall asleep.

When Lis wakes up a little later she is surprised to see that it’s now not just the two of them in bed, but when she realizes that Benji is all cuddled up to Harry’s side, her heart flutter in her chest, feeling her eyes watering as she watches the two of them sleep so peacefully.

As if Harry could sense her gaze on him, his eyes slowly flutter open and he glances at her with a sleepy gaze, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“You alright?” he whispers, his eyes falling closed again.

“Yeah. I just…” Exhaling softly, she leans over and kisses his slightly puckered lips gently before pressing one to Benji’s forehead as well. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he mumbles back before he slowly drifts back to sleep. Lis gives herself a few more minutes just admiring the two sleeping figures next to her before she lets her eyes close as well and fall back asleep.

A week after Austin’s first real appearance Lis meets up with him alone while Benji stays with Harry. Though they talked to him in the morning, explaining to him that his dad is in town and would like to meet him and Benji seemed fine with the idea, Lis wanted to sit down with Austin and talk in more details before letting Austin see his son.

Harry takes the boy to his rehearsal and Benji manages to charm everyone just as usual. The band adores having him as their personal audience, especially because he makes sure to clap and scream joyfully following every song they play. He makes the best of friends with Mitch, finding the quiet man the most entertaining with his guitar and he even asks the man to teach him a few chords which he gladly does.

After rehearsal Harry takes him out for icecream before they head back to Annalise’s and though Harry has been enjoying his alone time with Benji, he can’t help but anxiously check his phone every five minutes, looking for any sign from Lis, but none of his notifications are from her, unfortunately.

“Harry?” Benji speaks up when they arrive home and Harry keys them into the house. Benji sits down to the floor to get rid of his sneakers but struggles with the straps of it so Harry squats down to help him.

“Yes?”

“Do you wear ties?” he asks, his question coming from the blue.

“Sometimes. Why do you ask?”

“Because my teacher today said that we would have to wear one on our graduation in year eight. But I don’t think I want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because it looks tight,” he simply says, making Harry smile as he helps him up from the floor.

“You can make it as tight as you want, don’t worry about it,” he tells him and Benji nods smiling, satisfied with the answer he got.

“Will you come to my graduation?” he then asks and Harry comes to a halt.

“In grade eight?” he questions and Benji nods. “Do you want me to be there?”

“Of course,” he nods confidently, his answer warming Harry’s chest right away.

“Then I’ll be there,” Harry tells him and it’s a promise he hopes to keep along the way.

Harry makes him a sandwich and they move up to Benji’s room to play with his dinosaurs, getting really into the game. Benji loves playing with Harry, because he always gets so into character, roaring and making weird noises, the little boy finds it so entertaining and fun, he often begs him to do impressions of different animals.

Harry doesn’t even hear the front door open and close when Lis finally arrives. After kicking her shoes off she walks up the stairs, following the noises and animalistic grunts that could only come from her boyfriend. Stopping at the door she watches them play before making her presence noticed.

“Your T-Rex impression is getting better, H,” she tells him as she walks into the room and leaning down presses a kiss to Harry’s lips, then to Benji’s head.

“I’ve been practicing a lot, thank you very much,” he smirks. “Benji, do you mind if I go talk to your mum a little? I promise we’ll play some more after.”

“Sure, it’s fine,” he nods, busy with pretending he is invading a city with his action figure.

Harry gets up from the floor and he and Lis move down to the kitchen to have some privacy and not bother Benji with what they are about to discuss.

“So, how did it go?” Harry asks as they both sit at the kitchen counter.

“Surprisingly good. He was very respectful and open. He went into a little more details about his addiction and going to rehab. I felt a little bad that I never really noticed that he was struggling with such things, but he said it was not my fault and he was damn good at hiding it for a long time. Then he asked about Benji, I showed him some pictures and told him that I’m okay with him meeting and slowly building up an environment that’s good for everyone, especially for Benji.”

“So he took it well?”

“Yes, he seemed very grateful and… just overall very open to whatever my decision was.”

“That’s great,” Harry nods, telling himself that it’s something to celebrate, but the bitterness of jealousy has started to bubble inside him once again. “So what’s the next step?”

“Well, I obviously want to be there when they meet first and I thought that we could have a picnic next weekend in the park. I already promised Benji we would go feed the ducks, so I thought I could combine the two things. What are you doing next Sunday?”

“I have a meeting in the morning, but I think I’m fine.”

“Then I would love to have you there as well,” she smiles softly.

“You sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not,” she simply answers and leaning forward she kisses his lips chastely before hopping off the stool. And with that, it was settled.

Benji would meet his dad in a week.

Harry hates that he imagined a low-life, garbage looking weird guy when he pictured Austin. He is such a judgmental mess, but this was his way of calming his conscience through the days leading up to Sunday. But now that the man is standing just down the little walkway in the park, watching them get closer, the picture he imagined is getting thrown into the trash, because Austin looks… normal.

He is tall, around Harry’s height, dirty blonde hair that looks a little outgrown, but it’s not critical just yet. Now that he is seeing the man, he can actually see some traits Benji has gotten from him, his forehead, the curve of his upper lip and the shape of his face is undeniably Austin’s. Harry has never had problem with seeing exes of his girlfriends, he was confident enough to put any image aside, but right now, as he is staring at the man who fathers the child he adores so much, he can’t push down the thoughts of Lis and Austin together while Benji is holding one of his hands, his other clutching onto his mother’s.

Austin smiles wide, waving in their way as he takes a few steps towards them.

“Hi! I was worried I was at the wrong pond,” he chuckles softly, clearly nervous about this meeting, but that makes the four of them. Everyone is fighting a different fight right now.

“Sorry, Benji spilled tea on himself so he had to take a quick bath,” Lis apologizes while the boy in talk just stands there, staring up at Austin curiously. Just like the first time he met Harry, he doesn’t seem startled by a stranger, more like inquisitive.

“S’ alright,” he shrugs before his eyes move from Benji to Harry and he sticks out a hand for him. “Nice to meet you, Lis told me a lot about you. I’m Austin.”

“M’Harry, nice to meet you too,” he nods strictly, shaking his hand with the one that’s not holding Benji’s.

Austin then squats down to get to Benji’s level, a proud, touched smile tugging on his lips as he is inspecting the boy in front of him.

“Benji, hi. I’ve heard so much about you too. I’m so happy to see you!” he breathes out as the boy stares back at him, hands still clinging onto his mother’s and Harry’s.

“You’re my daddy?” he simply asks, the gears in his head turning as he is processing the situation.

“I-I am. But you don’t have to call me that, if you don’t want to.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“My name is Austin. You can call me that.” “Okay,” he nods before turning to his mother. “Mummy, are we feeding the ducks now or what?”

Lis chuckles at how forward Benji is and that the ducks seem to interest him more than his father.

“Sure, let’s go.”

Harry is like a hawk, watching every move of Austin through their time together. He is ready to jump into action if he sees the smallest warning sign, but none is showing. Austin is treating Benji with the best of intentions, simply enjoying his time with his son, making sure this meeting doesn’t take an upsetting turn.

Sitting on a bench with Lis, the two of them are watching as Benji is throwing another handful of cut grapes they prepared together this morning, the ducks launching at them excitedly, Benji laughs when two get into a fight for a piece. Austin is squatting next to him, holding the Tupperware as Benji keeps grabbing the grapes. He is having a blast and though Harry is not sure if he entirely understands what this meeting means, he knows that Benji is enjoying his first time seeing his daddy and that’s all that matters.

“Hey,” Lis grabs his attention, her hand squeezing his knee gently. “You alright?”

Harry turns to face her, forcing a smile to his lips as he nods.

“Of course.”

Lis knows him better than to believe his act. Leaning closer she kisses him lovingly to completely grab his attention from the man standing at the pond.

“You know, whatever happens with Austin, Benji will always love you in a special way and no one can take that away from you.”

“You think so? That he loves me?” Harry asks in a whisper. He hasn’t spoken his thoughts about being accepted by him yet, especially not to Lis, but now he just can’t keep his feelings bottled up.

“Of course,” Lis nods confidently. “I know it seems like he is a very outgoing kid, but he doesn’t trust anyone that easily, he is just good at being friendly. But it’s not just that with you anymore. I know that he thinks of you as one of his best friends and that’s a huge thing.”

“He is my best friend too,” Harry smiles, his eyes darting over to the boy who is now doing a little victory dance after hitting a swimming branch in the pond with one of the grapes. He can’t imagine his days anymore without at least thinking about him. Harry has always been great with kids, but this is his first time spending so much time with one and sometimes he is catching himself thinking about Benji as his own. He would do anything for the boy and to think that there was a time when Lis didn’t even want him to know about Benji is now just ridiculous.

“I know this is a weird situation for all of us, you included, but I want you to know that I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“You are taking away credit from yourself,” he smiles at her softly. “You’ve been doing great without me before we met.”

“I was making things work,” she corrects him. “But now… I’m happy too.”

Harry breathes out, savoring this moment and imprinting it into his memory, because he surely wants to remember it forever. Leaning closer he kisses her slowly, making sure he doesn’t get carried away too much because they are out in the public and people have been staring at them, but for a few moments, it’s just the two of them.

At the end of the day Lis agrees that it’s been a nice start and they settle with another time when Austin would see Benji. The boy clearly enjoyed his time with his dad and it’s a promising sign for Lis that she has made the right decision. Austin is clearly thankful for the time he has gotten with his son and he can’t wait to see him again and Harry can only hope his excitement and enthusiasm won’t disappear anytime soon.

September flies by filled with times for Benji spent with Austin. The man becomes a regular person in his life and as the weeks go by, Lis starts to trust him more and more with the boy. He starts to actually act like a father and treats Benji right, finally giving him the chance to feel like all his peers that have both their parents.

While things start to settle in their life, something is clouding over the calmness. Harry is set to leave for tour on the first weekend of October and he has had quite a few trips this month as well, forcing himself to go back to his old ways in life. He had to realize he has gotten way too used to being in London and not having to leave for more than just two days and now it’s making his transition back to his touring schedule even harder. It feels like he is about to tear into at least two parts as he is trying his best to do everything he needs to in his career but also stay present for Lis and Benji. Some days are easier, when he has the chance to mess around with his appointments, appearances and interviews, but some are making him want to scream from the top of his lungs when he is still on the road at midnight and can’t make it back to Annalise’s because he doesn’t want to wake her up arriving so late.

She is taking it easier than him. Or at least tries. After having Harry as her rock for so long, she knows it’s her time to shower him with understanding, patience and all her love, making sure he knows that she’ll stick around no matter what.

Two days before he is set to fly out to the States, Chloé takes up on Benji duty to give the pair some alone time before Harry heads out. They spend most of it cocooned in his place, eagerly making up for the time they’ll be forced to spend apart. It’s hard on the both of them, but they also know it’s inevitable and Lis knows Harry moved everything in his power to make his tour as airy as possible so he can come home to her. Though she would love it if he just stayed, she doesn’t want to sound ungrateful and ridiculous, thinking Harry could drop his career for her.

She wouldn’t want that, guilt would eat her up alive if Harry quit what he loves doing the most, it’s just that she wishes a day had more than just 24 hours sometimes.

They try their best to make their parting as short as possible, hoping to make it feel less painful, but they end up sitting in her car for thirty minutes before Harry brings himself to get out and grab his suitcase that hasn’t been shipped out to LA yet. Lis hops out and meets him at the back of the car, throwing her arms around his neck one last time, kissing him with everything in her.

“Think of me a lot,” she whispers against his lips and he inhales shakily, eyebrows furrowed as he is forcing himself to let go of her.

“My thoughts of you never end, Love,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers one last time before finally letting his arms fall from around her waist.

As the plane takes off and Harry stares down at the view of London underneath him, he can feel part of him staying behind, in the hands of one particular and special woman.

Show after show, city after city, the days start to melt together for Harry, losing his sense of whereabouts. Waking up in a different hotel room every third or fourth day as he travels through the States, it’s easy to lose track of where he was, where he is and where he’ll be the next day.

Touring has always been a challenging thing for him, even after being in the industry for over a decade now. The part where he shares his music, his art with his precious fans, where he gets to see their face and sing with them, for them, that’s what he wouldn’t trade for any other job. But being on the road for such a long time brings him the most painful homesickness that’s not easy to deal with. There’re not many ways either other than going home.

The way Harry made sure to fly back home every now and then only worked for a while. Two days every three weeks is nothing compared to what they had all summer, especially when they were living together. Every time he flew back to London and then was forced to return to the States, saying goodbye was getting harder and harder. He hated seeing the pain in Annalise’s eyes every time he was leaving, and telling Benji that he wouldn’t be here next week was also torture.

Austin has slowly become part of Benji’s everyday life. He made sure to see him at least once a week, doing all kinds of activities, strictly with Lis for now. Though Benji still calls him by his first name, he is settling into the sense of having a father in his life now.

The situation was bittersweet for Harry. He was over the moon that Benji now finally had the chance to connect with both his parents, but however stupid it sounds, he was jealous. After becoming serious with Lis he started imagining himself be this father-like figure for the boy, teaching him everything he learned from his dad and step-dad. Harry had such a special bond with Robin growing up, he made it his priority to be that to Benji what Robin was to him: someone to rely on, to trust and count on no matter what.

But ever since Austin’s appearance, his feelings have been all over the place, thoughts racing every time he had some quiet moments to himself to think. Lis always told him about when they met, made sure Harry knew about everything so it wouldn’t create a mishap that she kept something to herself, however it still had a major disadvantage.

Harry slowly started to feel like he was the outsider in Lis and Benji’s life, like he was the one that didn’t really belong there while he thought the same about Austin at the beginning. The pictures and videos Lis has sent him when he was away, the times she raved about whatever activity they did that day, they all made him drift farther from the security he felt when he was back in London.

The cherry on the top is Benji’s seventh birthday at the beginning of December.

Harry made sure to have enough days off to fly home to the small birthday party Lis was having for him. She invited his friends from school and her parents were coming down to London as well to celebrate. And of course, Austin was invited as well.

But as always, things didn’t go as planned. Harry was stuck in traffic on his way to the airport so his jet left an hour later than it was planned, then they had to make an emergency landing just two hours after taking off, they had to have the whole plane checked, it turns out nothing was wrong, just a generator got a little too heated. So by the time he was officially on his way, he was almost four hours later than planned.

If things went right he would have arrived by three at Annalise’s, but this whole mishap set him back a lot more than he could deal with calmly. As soon as he touches down in London he takes his phone out of airplane mode and calls Lis right away.

“Harry! Everything alright?” she asks, the noise behind her quite loud as the party must still be going.

“Yeah, I’m so fucking sorry but I just touched down. I’m going straight to yours. Lis I’m so sorry I’m late,” he breathes out in a rush as he is marching through the terminal to the car that’s already waiting for him.

“Harry, slow down, it’s okay! You arrived safely, that’s all that matters.”

“No, I wanted to be there in time and now the whole thing will be over basically by the time I get there!” he jabbers in panic, feeling so horrible for something that was completely out of his control.

“It’s not your fault, Harry. Just get here safely, that’s all I want, alright?”

“Okay,” he breaths out sharply. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you,” she chimes into the phone.

“Love you too,” he says before ending the call.

It feels like the car can’t move fast enough, Harry is anxiously sitting in the back of it, watching London pass by him, dying to finally get to Annalise’s neighborhood. It’s already past seven when he finally arrives, grabbing his duffel bag from the back of the car, he sprints up the stairs and lets himself in, not bothering to ring the bell.

Music is heard from inside and as he walks into the house it just gets louder. The first thing he sees is a bunch of kids running around in the living room, playing some kind of game, a few parents chatting here and there, the remains of a cake sitting on the kitchen counter with some more snacks and drinks.

“Harry!” he hears Benji call out, the boy running towards him in a onesie that looks like a dinosaur, it even has a tail on his behind.

“Birthday boy! Hi!” he breathes out in relief as he finally wraps him in a bear hug, lifting him up from the ground. “Sorry I’m so late, did you save some cake for me?” he chuckles putting back the boy to his feet.

“Mum did, it’s in the fridge!” he smiles widely.

“Your mum is an angel,” he smiles back, just as Lis appears, holding out her arms for Harry.

“Am I now?” she chuckles before wrapping her arms around his torso, hugging him tight. “Hi,” she smiles sweetly at him before he leans down and kisses her.

“Hi. Sorry for the delay,” he breathes his apology out again, but Lis just shakes her head.

“It’s alright, I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“Did you bring me a gift?” Benji asks in excitement, jumping up and down in front of Harry, who leaves an arm around Annalise’s waist, smiling down at the birthday boy.

“Well of course I did,” he chuckles.

Benji can’t contain his excitement as Harry quickly makes his rounds of greetings to everyone, ignoring the wide-eyed looks he is getting from some of the mums. It hasn’t been a secret that Lis and him are dating, but it’s always shocking to see them in the flesh and some of the women among the guests are a little starstruck to see Harry in such an intimate and domestic setting, celebrating his girlfriend’s son’s birthday. Lis’ parents make him promise to get back to them for a chat after he gives Benji his gift and he gladly gives them his word.

Moving to the living room all the kids gather around Harry and Benji who sit on the carpet as Harry pulls out his gift from the duffel bag he brought. It was once neatly wrapped, but the paper is now a little crumbled, signs of the long way here showing on it.

“Happy birthday, Benji,” Harry smiles handing him the gift and he is about to jump right into tearing the wrapping off, but Lis stops him.

“Ah, what do we say?” she warns the boy who immediately stops and looks at Harry.

“Thank you, Harry.” “You’re welcome,” he chuckles and Benji finally gets back to the unwrapping.

“Wow!” Benji gasps as he frees the box from the paper, all the other kids chattering in excitement as they see what the present is. “Mum! Look! It’s gonna be a space shuttle!” he exclaims holding up the Lego box. Harry was a little lost about what to buy, seeing that Benji now owns every kind of dinosaur toys to exist, so he went for his second obsession: space. He ordered the kit even before he left for tour to make sure it arrives in time.

“Sounds cool!” Lis chuckles.

The kids get right down to business to build the space shuttle, so Harry frees himself from them for a while.

Unfortunately, the party doesn’t last too long. After eight, the guests start leaving since all the kids have a bedtime and twenty minutes later it’s just Annalise’s parents, Chloé, Austin and Harry left in the house. Suzan and George are in the living room, enjoying their time with their grandson, Harry and Chloé are cleaning up all the toys that ended up downstairs from Benji’s room while Lis and Austin are on dish washing duty.

“This kid has way too many toys,” Chloé grumbles under her breath when they have already made their second round up to his room. She sits on the ground, putting everything away to their place as Harry chuckles softly.

“I’ll go get the rest,” he tells her before making his way downstairs again.

Lis’ laughter hits his ears, immediately making him smile, but as he turns the corner he freezes, eyes glued to the two adults at the kitchen sink.

Austin and Lis are standing shoulder to shoulder, Lis washing the dishes while Austin is drying them in a cloth. He keeps nagging her with his shoulder, making her laugh as she whines at him to stop, pushing back at him gently.

“What? I’m not doing anything!” Austin tells her with an innocent look. They don’t notice Harry’s presence and for a minute, he feels like he is not even there physically.

Benji runs up to them, showing part of the shuttle he has built, proud of the work he did and the two of them look down at it in awe.

“Good job, Benji!” Austin tells him with a proud smile, ruffling his hair playfully. “It’s gonna look awesome.”

“Right? This is gonna be the shuttle that will save some dinosaurs when the meteor hits!” he explains and Lis chuckles at his imagination.

“Sounds amazing, Sweetie.”

Benji runs back to the living room, eager to work more on the shuttle, but Harry’s attention is still on the pair in the kitchen.

“I’m convinced he got his patience from you, Lisie. I could never build that thing,” Austin tells her and Harry flinches at the nickname. Are they now this close? Using nicknames?

“I won’t argue with that,” she nods in agreement.

Harry’s stomach churns as he watches them. He knew they’ve been spending a lot of time together because of Benji, but this was just way too close to his liking. But it’s not that Harry thinks she would ever cheat on him. It’s more about the tainting thought that they look like a real family.

For an outsider, they are just a normal couple, parenting their son and seeing them so domestic and close got Harry thinking thoughts he definitely shouldn’t.

What if this is what Lis wants? What if he is keeping them from finally being a family? What if he is the only reason why Benji doesn’t have the picture perfect family?

The thoughts pains his chest and he forces himself to look away. He gathers the last toys in silence and brings them up to Benji’s room as he and Chloé finish up with everything.

Soon enough, everyone who is not spending the night at the house leaves. Lis takes Benji to the bathroom to give him his bath and Harry finds himself sitting at the kitchen island, blankly staring ahead of him, the picture of Lis and Austin burning into his mind.

He hears voices upstairs and he knows she is putting him to bed. Once it becomes silent again footsteps are heard from the stairs and a few moments later two arms curl around his waist from behind.

Lis kisses him between his shoulder blades as he glances over his shoulder.

“Hi,” she smiles, resting her chin on his shoulder from behind.

“Hey,” he breathes out and turning around in her arms, he leans his back against the edge of the island. “Bed time went okay?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day, he got tired of all the excitement,” she chuckles.

“M’sorry I couldn’t be here earlier,” he apologizes again, but Lis shakes her head at him, just like she did before.

“It’s alright, Harry. Don’t work yourself up about it. You flew across the globe to be here, a little delay is nothing you should be worried about.”

Her words mean well, they are the truth, yet Harry’s tired and darkened mind twists them so easily.

It doesn’t matter because they had Austin here before he arrived, he tells himself, but doesn’t say out loud, keeping the thought to himself.

“You alright?” she asks, her fingers dancing over his jawline until they swipe across his bottom lip. “You’ve been so quiet.” “Just… tired,” he tells her with a small smile that doesn’t match his eyes.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Monday morning, but I promised my mum I’d go see her tomorrow.”

“Are you coming back after you meet Anne?”

“Do you want me to come back?” he asks before he could think, the question taking her by surprise.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason,” he replies with a small head shake. “I’m really tired, can we go to bed?”

“Sure. You go, take a shower and I’ll put away the leftover snacks,” she tells him pecking his lips shortly before letting go of him.

That night, Harry lies awake in bed, Lis curled up against his side, sleeping soundly. He can’t escape his haunting thoughts about Austin, he keeps seeing that little scene in the kitchen, making up more and more that might have happened while he was away. It’s clearer than daylight that Austin is finally claiming his role as a father, but Harry never thought about what it could do to him and though Lis didn’t give him any reason to think this way, he just can’t help.

This feeling is weighing down on his chest heavier than anything, his thoughts are racing, flashing him pictures he shouldn’t be thinking about. Hours pass by and Harry spirals into unwanted depths. He forces himself to close his eyes and eventually, he falls to a shallow slumber, but his last thought breaks his heart with a snap of a finger: His fear of being a homewrecker, what he thought himself to be when he first met Lis now feels realer than ever.

Harry’s ears still ring a bit as he makes his way back to his dressing room, his high still lasting from his show that ended just minutes ago. He keeps thanking the nice words he is getting on his way, his usual smile plastered across his face, but it hasn’t been truly genuine in a while now.

There are just two more shows left before he is going on a break for the holidays, flying back to the UK for more than just a few days. The UK leg starts at the end of January, giving him about a month worth of break before he hits the road again and travels through Europe.

He should be over the Moon that he is finally going home again, but it’s bittersweet. Ever since Benji’s birthday he has gone downhill about his spiraling thoughts about being the reason why a family is not together. At nights, he finds himself tearing up, thinking about Austin and Lis rekindling their romance and finally become the family they were always supposed to be and the thought always leaves him heartbroken.

He hasn’t been able to get his head straight and he knows he should talk to her, be honest about his feelings, but he just can’t get himself to do that, the fear of getting an answer he has imagined already is crippling.

A knock is heard on his dressing room’s door and a moment later Jeff pokes his head inside.

“Hey, great show tonight,” he says giving him a thumbs up as he walks further inside.

“Thanks,” Harry nods as he gets rid of his suit jacket, hanging it up on the rack that holds his other tour outfits he has been switching between.

“Have you talked to Annalise about New York?”

Harry closes his eyes shaking his head no. Not long after Benji’s birthday, the idea of flying Lis and Benji out to New York for Harry’s last concert came up. It would be on the 22nd of December, the first Saturday of winter break so school wouldn’t be a problem and since Lis has the whole week of Christmas off from work, she could make it work as well. Both of Harry’s Madison Square Garden show is completely sold out and it’s been a nice thought to have them see him on his last show of the North American leg of the tour, though Harry hasn’t been able to bring himself to ask her about it, now running out of time.

“H, I need an answer for the flights and all. Please, talk to her today or tomorrow,” Jeff begs.

“I will. It just… slipped my mind. Sorry,” Harry lies and though Jeff can see right through him, he doesn’t push it, just nods and leaves him alone.

Harry is quick to make it back to the hotel. He takes the shower he missed at the venue and then rejects Sarah’s offer to have a drink with the band in her room, claiming that he is just going to head to bed. His hair is still wet as he puts on a pair of clean boxer briefs and a white shirt before making himself comfortable on his bed.

Holding his phone in his hand, he has Annalise’s contact open as he chews on his bottom lip, trying to gather all his forces to call her. She is probably already up, getting ready for her day and Harry can picture her sipping on her morning coffee as she is trying to figure out what to wear today. The scene lives vividly in his mind, because not so long ago he was lying in her bed, watching her shuffle around in just her underwear, her hair messily falling to her shoulders, the coffee sitting on the top of her dresser. He hasn’t forgotten the warm feeling the sight brought to him, how he felt a sense of home just by looking at her so early in the morning.

But it feels a million miles away now, almost too foreign to his liking as his thumb lingers over the call button before he finally taps on it. The line rings two times before she answers.

“Hey! How did the show go?” she asks right away, her voice bright as the morning Sun.

“It went alright,” he nods to himself, sinking further down on the bed until his head is resting on the pillow. “How are you? Everything good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just miss you,” she murmurs. “Benji misses you too, he asked if you’d be here on Christmas as well.”

“I miss you guys too,” he answers truthfully, because despite everything he’s been fighting, he can’t deny the love he has for the two of them.

“I wanted to talk about something with you.” “Yeah?” Harry breathes out, feeling his stomach churn.

“Yes. I was talking to Austin the other day and we were trying to figure out how Christmas would go. I told him that we’re going to my parents’ and your mum’s as well, so we won’t really have a lot of free time. So he asked if we could do something on the weekend before Christmas. He wants to make a trip to Bath, we would leave early and then come back late in the evening.”

As Lis explains the plans she has been making on the exact same date when Harry was planning to fly them over to New York, he finds himself holding his breath, tears stinging his eyes. Though it’s entirely his fault he hasn’t asked her earlier, but in a way he feels like he lost. Like she chose Austin over him and that’s what he’s been fearing all along.

“So now you’re making trips with Austin, huh?” he answers, his words sharper than he intended.

“Okay, I can hear you don’t like the idea,” she states, catching on that something is wrong, though she’s felt the change in Harry before, but she thought it’s just the busy schedule he has been on.

“Not to sound selfish, but I’m just not quite the fan of this trip while I would be on a different continent.”

“Harry, I asked you for a reason, I know it’s a complicated situation but I wanted to make sure it’s comfortable with you. If you don’t like the sound of it that’s fine, but at least you could have used a little nicer tone.”

“M’sorry for not being nice enough, but I’m just starting to lose patience, if I’m being honest.”

“Patience?” she asks. “About what? Me?”

“Make a guess, Lis. I’m across the world while you are planning trips with Austin.”

“You are making it sound like I’m going on a romantic getaway with him, but it’s a trip for him and Benji to spend time together,” she defends herself.

“It’s just that lately, everything has been about Austin,” he snaps, exhaling sharply, all his bottled up emotions slowly surfacing now.

“I—Well not everything, but I admit it’s been a big change, yes. And I’m sorry if it makes you feel bad, but this is not the way to talk about it, don’t you think?”

“Then how? Tell me how to talk about it, because I don’t have a fucking clue about what’s happening anymore, Lis!”

“Harry,” she breathes out, completely startled by his outburst. “Why do I feel like this is about something else?”

“Maybe because it is.”

“Then tell me! I can’t make things right if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“You know…” Harry sighs in defeat, emotionally drained at this very point. “I’ve been told that sometimes I give too much. And I have a feeling that this might be the case here now as well.”

“What… What is that supposed to mean?” Annalise breathes out, tears forming in her eyes as she leans against the kitchen counter, holding the phone to her ear with a shaky hand.

“I just—I don’t think I can go on like this anymore. Feeling this way,” Harry rasps, a single tear running down his face.

“Like what?” she begs, pushing down a sob. “Harry, please talk to me!”

“Like I’m the one holding you back,” he finally says.

“From what? I swear you’re not holding me back in anything, Harry.”

“Except from having the family you always wanted.”

Lis sobs at his words as the picture finally gets clear. Everything he has said now makes sense, though she is having a hard time to understand how Harry could ever feel this way.

“Harry, that’s not true. I have the family I always wanted and it includes you! I know it feels like an impossible situation, but I know that we just need some time to make things work. If you ever think that you are less in our lives just because you don’t share the same DNA as Benji, I want you to know that it’s not true. You’ve become so important for him and especially for me, I don’t want you to doubt your role in our life.”

They are both crying, the weight of the words that’ve been just said crashing down on them. Harry closes his eyes and let’s his sobs out, not able to silence himself any longer. His chest aches and so does Annalise’s.

He wants to believe her. He really does. But it’s so hard to change the reality he’s been building up in just a moment, the distance between them surely not helping the case either. Lis wishes she was there with him, hold him and tell him over and over again how much she loves him. It doesn’t matter how things have changed with Austin, it never affected the way she is so hopelessly in love with Harry.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, still fighting his tears. “I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about that I’m a homewrecker. I saw you with Austin on Benji’s birthday and I felt like I wasn’t even there, like I didn’t matter.”

“Oh Harry… I knew something was wrong, but I figured you’d tell me!” she sighs rubbing her face, wiping her tears away. “Of course you mattered! Benji was so happy you were there! He was asking all day when you’d arrive and when I put him to bed he asked if I think you’ll want to rebuild the shuttle with him once it’s done.”

Harry whimpers at her words, his chest tightening even more. His consciousness is telling him to pack a bag and leave right away, fly back to London so he can hold Lis in his arms as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” he breathes out rubbing his eyes.

“You are family, Harry. To me and to Benji as well. Nothing can change that, not even Austin. You’ve already given so much to my son, I will never be able to thank you for being in his life.”

“Fuck, I’m about to sob like a baby,” he jokes making her laugh. “Lis, I’m sorry, I’ve been an idiot.”

“You have not. Just next time, please talk to me, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers nodding to himself.

“I love you, Harry. Please don’t ever doubt or forget that.”

“I won’t,” he promises, this time shaking his head to strengthen his words.

“You love me too?” she murmurs softly.

“Of course. I love you so much, Lis.” “Good. Now I have to go and wake Benji up. I can’t wait to see you again soon.”

“Me neither.”

In the middle of the emotional tsunami that washed over Harry, he completely forgot about asking Lis about New York and later he talked himself down to mention it. He didn’t want to ruin the trip they had planned.

So on his last show, filling up MSG for the second night, he is standing on his own behind the stage, waiting to come out. But as soon as the show kicks off, the backstage is filled with a special buzz.

Even though Harry put his plans aside about flying Lis and Benji out to New York, Jeff didn’t. When Harry didn’t give an answer about his decision he was about to take it as a no to the plans, but luckily, he decided to reach out and emailed Lis with the details of everything they had in plans. To say the least, Lis was shocked that Harry didn’t mention it to her, but she could tell it had a lot to do with that call not long ago.

She knew how much it means to Harry and she didn’t think twice before asking Austin to have their little trip after Christmas, freeing up the weekend to go and visit Harry. They fixed up everything in secret, letting Harry believe he’ll only see them when he returns to the UK on the 23rd.

Jeff helped her manage everything and they arrived to the city just an hour before the start of the show. A car picked them up and drove them to the venue and they waited in it until Harry finally stepped on stage so the air was clear.

Jeff runs down the hallways so fast, he almost knocks two people over on his way. Lis spots him before he reaches the car and she gets out to greet the man.

“Hey, he just started. Come on, you can come inside,” Jeff tells her. She helps Benji out of the car and the three of them head inside, ready to surprise Harry.

Through the whole tour, Harry liked to spice up the track list a little, randomly performing covers of songs he has been listening to lately. Tonight, he is gifting the fans with his version of Want You Back by HAIM. He practiced it with the band yesterday and every time they played it, Harry kept ending up on the left side of the stage, dancing and fooling around as usual and this is what Jeff is counting on tonight.

Harry takes a breather after his last song, the crowd screaming and clapping as he takes a few gulps of his water before walking back to the front of the stage.

“This is my last show before my little break,” he says into the microphone. “I’ve been performing different covers through this tour and tonight won’t be different either.”

The crowd goes crazy, screaming the title of the songs they want to hear the most.

“Tonight’s song is by three incredible artists and they go under the name of HAIM,” he explains, the screaming increasing once again.

When he doesn’t know is that the two people he has been missing the most are standing behind the stage, clapping along with the audience. Benji turns to his mother in excitement when he gets a glimpse of the mass of people outside in the arena. He has been over the Moon since Lis told him they would travel all the way to North-America to surprise and see Harry before he comes home.

“The song is called Want You Back and I hope you’ll like it,” he gushes into the microphone as he moves away from it to grab one of his acoustic guitars and moving back to the microphone he starts the song.

“Some things are long forgotten, some things were never said…” His voice fills the arena and Lis almost doesn’t notice Jeff’s touch on her arm. “We were on one endless road, but I had a wandering heart.”

“Let’s get you out there so he can see you!” he tells her over the music and nodding she takes Benji’s hand as they follow the man out of the backstage.

There’s a small, free space between the actual edge of the stage and the pit area, mostly for security guards, but this time it’ll be the designated spot for the two of them. As they walk out, and some fans start recognizing her, Harry doesn’t realize what is happening, he is way too lost in the song.

Lis feels a little like under a microscope as the fans around her get all excited about her presence and she is just nicely saying hello back to them before turning her attention at the man singing on the stage. Benji stands in front of her and she has her hands on his shoulders as he is jamming to the song even though he has never even heard it before.

“I said we were opposite lovers, said it from the beginning you kept trying to prove me wrong. Said you’d always see it through and I know that I ran you down, so you ran away with your heart…”

Harry is making his way to the left wing, just as Jeff predicted, getting closer to the two surprise guests, but he hasn’t spotted them just yet. He has pushed the guitar to his back as now the band is taking the lead in the song, leaving him just with the singing and dancing.

Annalise’s breath is caught in her throat as Harry stops right in front of them, but his gaze falls over them, not focusing on what’s happening at the very front. Right until he sees how most of the fans in front of him are pointing at the front of the stage.

“But I just know that I want you back, just know that—“

His singing comes to a halt as his mouth hangs open when his eyes finally fall on the two familiar frames right at his feet.

Benji is jumping in excitement, waving at Harry as Lis smirks up at him, eyes filled with pride and love, all just for him.

Harry can’t believe his eyes as he stands frozen for a few minutes, the song long forgotten as his eyes lock with Lis’. His hand has fallen so the microphone is not close enough to catch as the question How?! falls from his mouth.

“Just sing!” she shouts laughing and he then snaps back to reality where he is supposed to be performing.

He quickly recovers from his shock and carries on with the song, but his eyes keep darting back to the two of them on the left side. When it finally ends he is quick to jog over to them and get down on the floor so his face is close enough to hear what she is saying.

“How did you get here?” he breathes out, ignoring the screaming that’s filling the whole arena.

“You really thought I would choose a trip to Bath over coming here to see you?” she chuckles, his heart skipping a beat. “We’ll talk later, now go and finish your show,” she tells him stepping back as Harry jumps back to his feet.

“Sorry for the little scene, I just didn’t know my girlfriend would be here tonight,” he talks into the microphone, shocking everyone with how easily he just called her his girlfriend, basically for the first time in a public setting. His eyes move back at Lis who is clearly blushing, holding onto Benji’s shoulders as she chuckles softly.

They sing and dance through the rest of the show and Harry can’t keep his eyes off them. He hasn’t seen them in the flesh since Benji’s birthday which was weeks ago and having them there at the show is just making his chest burst from joy, especially because they chose to fly across the ocean instead of their road trip to Bath with Austin. Though Harry has managed to come more to peace with the whole Austin situation, it’s still amazing to know he matters enough to be a priority.

He has never ached this bad for a concert to be over and normally he would feel bad for wanting to escape so fast, but not tonight. He basically jolts off the stage when the lights go down, rushing past everything and anyone, until his eyes fall on the two people he has been desperate to hug all night.

“Harry!” Benji calls out, sprinting towards him laughing carefreely as he throws himself at Harry who catches him just in time, picking the boy up to his arms.

“You really surprised me, I wasn’t expecting to see you!” Harry admits chuckling softly once Benji lets go of his neck and looks at him playfully giggling.

“Are you happy we are here?” he asks in all of his childish innocence.

“I am beyond happy,” he breathes out, ruffling his hair as Lis finally reaches them. Keeping Benji in his arms, Harry leans down and kisses her, curling his arm that’s not holding the excited boy around her waist as he pulls her closer. “You sneaky little thing,” he grins and Lis just slyly smirks back at him. “How did this happen?”

“Well, Jeff emailed me asking if you’ve talked to me about the trip here and I was shocked that you didn’t even mention you wanted this to happen.” She gently smacks his chest for keeping his plans hidden from her.

“You had plans already, didn’t want to mess it up.”

“We had a vague plan, nothing was decided yet. I would have rearranged it the moment you told me about New York, but you didn’t!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he breathes out, putting Benji down who immediately runs up to Mitch who just walked off the stage. The guy greets him warmly, squatting down so Benji can have a look at his guitar.

“Anyway, Jeff helped me to arrange everything, I wanted to surprise you.”

“You succeeded,” he chuckles before kissing her again, this time with no Benji between them.

“I thought it would mean a lot to you, especially after… everything.” She gently strokes his face, a tad bit worry still laced through her voice as she hasn’t been able to decide where they have really been standing since that one phone call.

“It really means a lot. Thank you,” he breathes out, feeling complete after weeks of suffering on his own. “I love you,” he whispers, leaning closer so his lips are brushing against hers.

“I love you too,” she smiles before he kisses her.

December 31st

“Poppy, Sweetheart, can you not undress every ten minutes?” Harry sighs at the little girl standing in front of him, only in her diapers even though he dressed her just before he went to get his suit jacket. The toddler blinks up at him curiously, curling a lock of hair around her finger while she sucks on her thumb on her other hand.

Harry leans down and picks her up, walking out of the bedroom he sees the trail of clothes in the hallway that she left. He gathers all clothing items and walks downstairs.

“And please don’t let her stay naked when she undresses, she’ll never learn to stay in clothes if you just let her roam around naked,” Lis explains to Suzan in the kitchen who nods along to everything she is saying. Her eyes fall on Harry walking in with the girl in talk in his arms. “See? Naked, again!” Lis sighs. “Poppy, it’s a little early for you to practice undressing, don’t you think?” she asks the theoretical question from the girl who is holding onto Harry’s neck now, blinking up at Lis innocently. “Although, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing,” she adds with a playful smirk, glancing at Harry, who just shrugs, so full of himself.

“I’m not denying that,” he comments. “Suzan, can you dress her please?” Harry asks and the proud grandmother reaches for Poppy without hesitation.

“Of course. Come on, Darling,” she coos, taking the clothes from Harry as well.

“You ready to leave, Love?” Harry asks, kissing Annalise’s temple. She is wearing a long, black bodycon dress that has a sparkling seam at the top and bottom, spicing it up just a tad bit.

“Yeah, just let me grab my purse and phone. Would you please ask Benji to come downstairs a bit?” she asks as she disappears in her study.

Harry hums to himself as he walks through the spacious living room where George is sitting in one of the armchairs, watching the news while Suzan is trying her best to get Poppy dressed again, even though she’ll free herself from the clothes probably the moment she is left to roam around again.

Benji’s door is open at the end of the hallway, but Harry still knocks on it before stepping inside, seeing the boy lying on his stomach on his bed, reading the comic books he got for Christmas.

“Hey, we are leaving. Come down a little, please?”

“Sure,” Benji nods, leaving the comic book open on his bed as he gets up. Harry follows his movements and catches himself thinking how tall he is getting already. When he turned ten he started growing rapidly and Harry now thinks he’ll easily outgrow him by the time he finishes high school. Lis already can’t stop complaining that her twelve years old son is starting to catch up with her in height.

“At least Poppy is still small like a bean,” she grumbled the other day when it came up again, but Harry just chuckled.

“For now. But don’t forget that she has my genes and I’m not what you’d consider short.”

“Damn it, I’ll be the shortest in the house!” she sighed making Harry laugh.

Harry fixes his collar as he heads down with Benji, Lis walking out of her study right then.

“Oh great! Benji, please keep an eye on your sister while we are away, would you?”

“Isn’t that what Grandma and Grandpa are here for?” Benji jokes.

Suzan finishes up with Poppy and puts her down, the little girl immediately running up to her brother who gladly picks her up, struggling a little under the weight of the two year-old, but he manages to hold her.

“Yes, but if she starts running around, you are going to be the one to run after her and make sure she doesn’t break anything,” Lis tells him with a stern look. Poppy has developed quite a speed in the past months, enjoying sprinting around the house. Luckily, she has plenty of space, the new home they moved into before the little girl’s arrival came with enough room for any activity for the two kids.

“Don’t worry, Lisie, we’ll have an amazing time,” Suzan grins at her daughter who feels a little adamant about leaving her kids home, but it’s been so long since her and Harry had an evening to themselves. When Griff called Harry a few weeks ago, asking if the pair would be up for another New Year’s Eve party at the pub, it took Harry some convincing to make her say yes, but she eventually did. Suzan and George were happy to take up on the babysitting duty, giving the two of them some adult time.

Lis grabs her wool coat from the arm of the sofa and puts it on as she walks over to the kids.

“Be good, listen to grandma and grandpa, okay?” she tells Benji before kissing the top of his head and doing the same with Poppy. “You too, Missy!” she tells the girl who giggles at her words.

“Missy! Missy!” she repeats after her mother, her tiny hands grabbing onto Benji’s ears who whines a bit, but eventually lets his sister hold onto them.

Lis tells some last minute things to her parents and Harry uses this time to step closer to Benji.

“Don’t tell grandpa, but you are the man at the house until we come home, alright?” he tells him and Benji nods, taking the role seriously. “Be good, we’ll see you probably tomorrow. And you little girl…”

Harry takes Poppy from Benji’s arms, the little girl chuckling at her daddy happily, her hands immediately finding Harry’s hair.

“Don’t cause too much trouble, okay? Trouble is no good,” he tells her and she adorable shakes her head at his words.

“No twouble!” She calls out, throwing her hands into the air. Harry chuckles at her, kissing her soft cheeks a few times before putting her down. Poppy runs over to George who picks her up and sits her on his lap.

“Okay, let’s go,” Lis finally says. “Happy New Year guys! See you soon!” she calls out waving around on their way out. Harry says his goodbye as well, his hand finding Annalise’s as they walk out of the house.

He gives her hand a soft squeeze, loving the feeling of her wedding band on her finger under his touch. Harry knows Lis is a little worried about leaving the kids with her parents. She hasn’t spent more than just about two hours away from Poppy since she was born, but she also knows the kids are in great hands with Suzan and George. After all, they raised her as well.

The pub is packed by the time they arrive, but Griff immediately spots them as they walk through the door.

“Aye! S’ my favorite couple!” he calls out, hugging them both at the same time. “So glad ya could make it! No kids?” he jokes, though he knows they would have brought the kids to a pub to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

“No, they are home with the grandparents,” Harry smiles at his old pal.

“Alright, then let loose tonight!” Griff cheers.

The three of them chat for a little before the pub owner moves on to another group of guests, leaving Harry and Lis alone. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close, his nose brushing against her ear as he speaks up.

“Last time we were here you ran off quite rudely. Are you gonna dump me tonight as well?” he teases, referring to the first time they met, exactly five years ago.

“Seeing that you’re my ride home, it’s not gonna happen this time,” she jokes and turning her head she kisses his lips shortly.

“Is that the only reason?” Harry gasps, pretending to be hurt over her answer.

“Mmm, I’m not sure it would look good on my records if I left my husband at a New Year’s Eve party.”

Harry can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips when she calls him her husband. They’ve been married for a little over three years now, yet it still amazes him that he was able to not just score, but keep the most amazing woman he has ever met.

Harry popped the big question on their second Christmas together, hiding the ring among the other gifts. Lis started crying and could barely even say yes properly, constantly sobbing, but it was definitely a happy cry. They tied the knot just three short months later, officially becoming Mr. and Mrs. Styles. It was a small and intimate wedding, but one of their photos later ended up in Vogue. At first Lis was adamant about showing such a private moment of their life with the public, but Harry managed to convince her otherwise.

“Let me show off my smoking hot wife to the world, Love!” he told him every time it came up until she finally gave up.

By the time their wedding came, they were both sure that they wanted to expand the family as soon as possible and ten short months later they were blessed with a baby girl they named Poppy. Harry has put a hold on his career when Lis reached her third trimester and he hasn’t fully gotten back to work since then, enjoying every bit of parenthood without shame. He has put out a new album last year, but it was announced beforehand that he would not go on a tour with it, not ready to leave his family just yet, but he promised to play the majority of the songs the next time he travels around the world.

The two of them mingle in the crowd, enjoying their time without any crying, food throwing or whining. It’s been so long since they last spent any time without Benji or Poppy, not that they don’t enjoy being with them, because they value every little moment, but sometimes it’s nice to set themselves free for just a night.

This sense of déjà vu lingers around the both of them all night, being at the pub is quite an emotional moment for them, seeing how far they have come from that one particular night five years ago.

When it’s nearing midnight, Harry fetches themselves two glasses of champagnes and they wait for the countdown at the exact same spot they stood back then. Harry notices her gaze on him and glances down at her with a half-smile.

“What? Is there something on m’ face?” he asks jokingly, making her laugh.

“No,” she shakes her head. “I’m just feeling a little emotional right now.”

“Emotional?” he furrows his eyebrows at her before his eyes widen. “Wait, are you… Are you pregnant?” he gasps, but Lis just chuckles at him.

“Harry, I’m literally holding a glass of champagne, you think I would be drinking if I was pregnant?”

“Right, it didn’t occur to me,” he nods.

“But… would you want that?” she shyly asks, the question has been bugging her for a while now.

“Would I want you to be pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

“Love, I would die to see you pregnant again and have another baby with you,” he answers simply, his straightforwardness surprising her a little.

“Why haven’t you brought it up then?”

“I wanted to, I was just not sure how you are feeling about it. If you’d want to even go through another pregnancy.”

“Well I do.”

“So why haven’t you brought it up earlier then?” he asks, returning the question for her.

“Because you’ve been on a break for over two years and another baby would set your career back even more,” she answers truthfully. She’s had enough time thinking about it and she had to realize she’s been feeling guilty for basically snatching Harry away from his fans, even if the majority was so understanding and nice when he announced his hiatus.

“Lis,” he breathes out turning to her with his full body. “I can make music at forty or fifty and even sixty. It’ll always be there for me. But we don’t have all the time to have another baby and I do want another, that I’m sure about.”

Annalise pouts her lips at him and for a moment he is afraid he said something wrong.

“What’s it now, Love?”

“I just love it when you talk about having babies, it makes me want to have a dozen more.”

Harry chuckles and presses his lips to hers shortly.

“I don’t know how that would sit with your lady parts, but I’m always up for some baby making,” he murmurs with a smug grin.

“Harry Styles, you never change,” she chuckles as the crowd around them starts the countdown.

“Do you want me to change?”

“No. Never,” she smiles softly, a faint blush playing on her cheeks. “So, another baby?”

“I’m in if you’re in,” he nods as the countdown reaches five, but the noises and voices are completely shut out for them.

“I’m in,” she smirks, biting into her bottom lip.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone cheers and Harry leans down, capturing her lips in a more confident way than he did five years ago.

“Happy New Year, Love,” he murmurs against her lips.

“Happy New Year,” she answers with a bright smile as they clink their glasses and drink to the new year ahead of them.

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@stylesfics-xx @dontworrysunflower @mariamuses @bookwormandtea @swtxel @ericadrumgoole1

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x oc #harry styles serendipity #harry styles serendipity series #serendipity #serendipity series #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

151 notes · View notes

movieexpert1978 · 3 years ago

Note

Oooh if you’re still doing fanfic prompts, would you write anything for Doc Ock? Cause I would like to request the hurt/comfort part 2 either 4 or 8 with him

Hello anon !!! I finally got a story written for you!!! I hope you enjoy it. I went with #4 "You don't have to be so brave when you're with me." The list is posted by @creativepromptsforwriting

There is some angst here, mention of character death, violence, blood and swearing. The perfect Doc Ock fic, lol. I hope you enjoy it.

Different Stages

She had met him more by accident when she had just finished a job. She was tucking her rifle away when she heard a constant thudding. It reminded her of the T-rex arrival in Jurassic Park. She kept her gun out as he arrived. She had seen the papers and he was the infamous Doctor Octopus as they had labeled him. Two mechanical arms were on the ground while the other two hung around his shoulders protectively.

“Are you going to shoot me?” He asked curiously.

“No, I don’t kill people for free.” She shrugged, lowering the rifle. He took off his sunglasses to look at her.

“You don’t look like an assassin.” He said.

“I know Doctor. That’s why I do it.” She smiled. An eyebrow arched curiously at her comment. “So just passing through?” She asked.

“Actually yes.”

“Well Doctor I won’t keep you. Have a nice day.” She said before leaving.

“Yes that was weird.” Otto said to the arms. There a few more encounters like that until he finally got her one quiet night.

“Are you stalking me Doctor?” She teased.

“Call me Otto.” He answered. “And…yes I supposed I am because I would like to know your name.”

“Call me Evee.” She answered.

“Like the Pokémon?” He asked surprised.

“Oh nice…you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” She smirked.

“I’ve got a lot more time on my hands.” He shrugged.

“My full name is Evelyn, but I prefer Evee since I always have to change my look at times for a job.” She said, showing a wig. Her hair was short but had some dark orange highlights in it.

“Why the orange?”

“Fall is my favorite season.”

“It’s September.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re a Christmas person?” She huffed.

“No I prefer summer.” He stated.

“Hey if they can do fucking Christmas in July and have Christmas trees out at the end of September then I sure as hell can do my Halloween at the start of August.” She said defensively. Otto let out a genuine good belly laugh.

“Fair enough. That’s true.” He chuckled as he walked closer to her on his own legs.

“Why the sunglasses?”

“My eyes were damaged in an accident.”

“Oh that failed energy fusion thing?” She asked.

“Yes.” He nodded quietly. He noticed her eyes were an interesting shade of green. The arms stared at her curiously as well. One inched up to her and she held out her hand. It nudged it and she traced her fingertips along the metal.

“Are they alive?” She asked.

“In a sense yes, artificial intelligence.” He explained. “They’re surprised you’re not scared of them.” He added.

“I’ve seen people do a lot worse.” She shrugged.

“Is this your style, hanging on roof tops and shooting people?”

“It’s the most effective method.” She answered. “And I’m quite good at it.” She winked. “Can they come off?” She asked pointing to the arms.

“No.” He turned around and showed her the outer spinal column that had been fused into his spine. “That happened during the accident too.” He said before he turned around.

“Ouch, I’m sorry.” She said with sympathy, but he only shrugged.

“I can do a lot more now.” He said. “So Evee, do you live in the city?” He asked.

“Why ? You want a date?” She teased. He actually blushed.

“No, I just wanted to ask since we keep running into each other.” He said quickly.

“Well yes I do.” She smirked. She took out a notepad and wrote something on it. She walked over and put it in his coat pocket. “If you ever want to drop by.” She winked before she left.

Xxxxxxx

The October chill was starting to come and things were getting wet with the rain as well. Evee had finished another job and she started to walk home. Her rifle concealed in it’s long back pack. She stopped and sniffed the air. “Mmmm…rain is coming.” She said. She also noticed the smell of bad after shave as she started walking again. She knew she was being followed as the rain started to fall. She walked down a few back alleys she knew and tucked her rifle in a corner she knew wouldn’t be disturbed. She walked calmly as her other two guns hung on her hips under her long jacket. It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps. She wouldn’t be surprised if more people pooped out so she had to keep her eyes open.

“Fuck it.” She whispered to herself. She spun around with her guns and started shooting. She took out two before more men charged at her from the sides. She ducked and spun around one guy, using him as a shield as his companions still fired and killed him. Evee got off a few more shots before she was punched at from behind. She growled as she grabbed his arms and elbowed him right in the face and broke his nose. He shouted in pain as she shot him in the head. Evee shouted when one man plunged a knife deep in her hip and dragged it to make her bleed.

“Fucker!” She shouted and punched him right in the throat. He started gasping for breath as she shot him. A few more shots and the group was finally down, leaving her breathing hard. “Fuck!” She gritted as she stared at the infernal knife. She couldn’t take it out until she got to her apartment because that’s where her medical kit was. She was limping badly as she made her way back home and finally closed the door behind her. She stumbled into her bedroom and yanked the comforter off. It wasn’t the first time she had nights like this and it made her invest in black bed sheets to help deal with the blood. She got into a tang top and cut her pants off before grabbing the medical kit.

“What happened?” Someone spoke. Evee grabbed the knife at her nightstand and threw it. It was easily knocked out of the way by one of the arms.

“Otto…fuck…sorry…act first…think later.” She sighed.

“No hard feelings.” He said as he came over to her. “What happened?” He asked again.

“Got jumped by a few pros. They didn’t make it.” She smiled.

“Is this normal for you?” He asked.

“Happens at least once a year. People do it to cover their tracks or just want to get rid of the completion.” She shrugged. He couldn’t believe she was so casual about the whole thing, not to mention the knife still in her. “You wouldn’t happen to be a medical doctor too?” She asked with a smirk.

“I have picked up a few more medical skills. Could I tell you if you hit a vein? No. Could I stitch that up if you asked me…yes.” He stated.

“Thank you.” She sighed. He took his coat and gloves off, along with his sunglasses and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m not going to talk you through it.” She said.

“I don’t need you too.” He replied.

“Good, because I’m taking a shot of morphine.” She said as she dug through the bag.

“You’ve got morphine in there?” He gasped.

“Yeah, never leave home without it.” She grinned.

“Easy.” He said taking her hand. She looked at him and for the first time since they fight was she able to finally catch her breath. “You don’t have to be so brave when you’re with me.” He said gently.

“Thank you Otto.” She rasped quietly. After a few moments he helped her take her shot and laid her down on the bed. “Next time we have to have dinner first.” She mumbled before she fell asleep.

Xxxxxxx

She woke up with a hiss of throbbing pain in her leg. She looked down and saw a blanket on her. She pulled it off a bit and saw her wound all bandaged up. She looked at it puzzled for a moment as she started to remember last night.

“Thank you Otto.” She sighed.

“You’re welcome.” He answered as he came into the room. She looked up to see him holding a plate of breakfast for her. While one the arms held a gall of orange juice for her.

“Awww.” She smiled weakly as he came over to her. “Hey can you hand me that aspirin bottle please?” She said pointing. Another arm handed it to her and she couldn’t help but giggle. “They’re so cute once you get used to them.” She said.

“They say thank you.” He said. She took her pills and started eating.

“Thank you for your help last night Otto.” She said quietly.

“You’re welcome Evee.” He smiled.

“Can you…can you stay with me for a little bit…please?” She asked almost like a frightened child.

“Of course.” He nods and sits next to her. After she finished her food she snuggles up to him and he doesn’t question it.

“Did you eat already?” She mumbled.

“Yes. Your apartment is very nice. I’m guessing you own it?”

“Yup.” He started rubbing her back and she hummed softly. The aspirin helped with her throbbing leg. She felt warm and safe in his arms. She couldn’t help but cling to him a bit more tightly.

“Are you ok? You’re tense.” Otto said.

“I can’t remember the last time I felt safe with someone.” She answered honestly. She looks up at him again as he gazes at her. “I know that probably sounds weird coming from me right?” She laughed weakly.

“No.” He said shaking his head. “I’m glad you feel safe with me.” He smiles. She leans in a little closer and so does he. She’s hesitant to go further, but he does it for her. He gently kisses her and she eagerly responds to his touch. She moans softly against his mouth as he lays her back down while his hands cup her face. When he finally pulls away her vision is blurry as she tries to catch her breath. “Evee what’s wrong? You’re crying. Did I hurt you?” He asks concerned.

“N-no.” She says, surprised that’s she’s crying. “It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve felt a connection with someone.” She admits.

“I understand.” He nods. “I lost my wife, Rosie, in the accident. I thought it was all over…but they…talked to me.” He said pointing to the arms. “And then I kept running into this assassin who named herself after a Pokémon.” He laughed. She couldn’t help but join in.

“I hope I get to meet her sometime.” Evee teased. Otto leaned into her again and gave her another tender kiss.

“Can I stay here for a little bit…please?” Otto whispered. She could hear the pleading in his voice.

“Of course you can.” She smiled. Otto pulled her back into his embrace gently. The arms wrapped around Evee carefully and protectively. She felt him kiss the top of her head before she fell back to sleep to the hum of the metal and the beating of his strong heart.

AN: Just in case, Pokémon isn't mine along with Doc Ock.

#doc ock #doctor octopus #otto octavius #angst with a happy ending #fluff #violence #blood #swearing #doc ock x oc #for anon

27 notes · View notes

bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Take the Money

(cross-posted from my AO3 and based on the Bleachers song of the same name; you should give it a listen ‘cause it definitely shaped this story)

-vomit tw, depression tw, lots of angst and emotional whump with a happy ending, of course-

Jaskier had received six urgent messages in three weeks, each delivered by a different exhausted messenger in the same oddly familiar livery. They showed up outside of inns, in the corner of taverns, and one of them even had to trek through the deep woods to find their hidden campsite; Geralt almost felt bad for them. Almost.

After the seventh strange man appeared with a scroll for Jaskier, the bard didn’t even bother reading it. He merely tossed the rolled and sealed piece of parchment into a refuse pile on their way out of town and didn’t look back. Geralt picked it up when the bard wasn’t paying attention, letting his eyes scan the fancy, swirling script of the Viscountess Pankratz.

Julian Alfred Pankratz,

Return home immediately! Your wedding cannot be put off any longer! Lady Ainsley will not wait another month for your foolish adventures with that Witcher to come to an end. If you do not return for your wedding in three weeks time then you shall be officially disowned and your name will be stricken from the family records.

With Urgency,

Lady Pankratz

Geralt swallowed hard. Jaskier was betrothed? He was to be married in three weeks? But they weren’t anywhere near Redania. Or Lettenhove. Jaskier had never mentioned anyone by the name of Lady Ainsley before, or anything about his past if he could avoid it. Did that mean...?

“Why aren’t you going?” the Witcher asked. Jaskier whirled around, his eyebrow already raised in confusion; he went three shades paler than normal when he saw the limp paper hanging from Geralt’s fingers. “We’re not even remotely close to your hometown and we’re traveling in quite the opposite direction.”

Jaskier made a face and waved his hand dismissively.

“I know. I don’t want to marry her.”

“Why don’t you want to marry her? They’re going to disown you, Jaskier. Isn’t this” - he shook the letter for emphasis - “the life you’re used to living, anyway? You should go home and be with...with someone like you .”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Geralt? You think I belong with someone foppish? Loud? Annoying?” The bard was spitting mad already. The Witcher had touched on a sore spot, apparently. “Should I be with someone more breakable and human and petty?”

“Don’t you want- aren’t you-”

“C’mon big boy, use that fantastic Witcher brain of yours. Figure it out.”

Geralt didn’t understand.

“Wouldn’t you be happier with her than on the Path with me?”

Jaskier looked...hurt. His expression changed from indignant to heartbroken in the measure of time that occurred between split seconds. It did something awful in the Witcher’s gut. Something unfamiliar and painful. The bard’s next words were barely above a whisper. Even with his enhanced hearing Geralt had to focus hard: “Would you prefer me to be married off and out of your way?”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“I don’t even know what we’re even getting at here, Geralt. I’m sorry. I can return home if you’d like. If I send a messenger first thing tomorrow then the family’s hired mage can portal me back in time for the wedding.”

“Jaskier,” the Witcher was pleading. He didn’t know why or for what, but the pitch of his voice left room for no other possible interpretation. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Then don’t ask me to marry her, Geralt.”

The Witcher dropped the letter back onto the refuse pile and shoved it deeper with the tip of his boot. Jaskier’s bright smile returned and the soft notes of his lute filled the air once again. For some inexplicable reason Geralt felt triumphant. As if he’d won a battle he didn’t know he’d been fighting against an enemy he’d never met before.

---

“Are you Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf?” a well-dressed stranger asked, approaching the table where the Witcher was seated. It had been a week since his and Jaskier’s argument over the summons. Neither one had brought it up again and the bard had seemed almost unusually affectionate since. The amount of casual touching they did had significantly increased, even when the sun set and it was growing close to bedtime. Jaskier seemed to be happy touching Geralt and the Witcher had no reason to complain; he liked knowing that his best friend wasn’t scared of him.

He regarded the messenger with a suspicious gaze, “Aye. I am Geralt of Rivia.”

“I have a contract for you.” The man slid a piece of paper across the table and folded himself into the chair across from Geralt’s. The pattern stamped into the red wax seal was familiar but the Witcher couldn’t quite remember where he’d seen it before. His strange visitor smiled benignly, “It doesn’t even involve killing.”

“Then why hire a Witcher? That’s kind of our schtick.”

“This agreement is of a more personal nature,” the man shrugged, leaning back in his chair and waiting for Geralt to read his missive. The Witcher took the delicate stationary in his large hands and unfolded it until he could see the printed words:

To Sir Geralt of Rivia,

Witcher and Friend of Julian Alfred Pankratz

We, the Pankratz Family, come to you and offer this agreement:

Return Julian safely to our ancestral home within two weeks and you shall be paid the sum of 1500 crowns. Consider it a bodyguarding mission, if you so desire.

You are also formally invited to attend the wedding of Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove to the Countess Ainsley DeStael of Rinde, which will occur three days after your mission ends.

In order to complete the job and claim your payment, however, you must leave the wedding party without Julian at your side and return to your Witcher duties alone. He isn’t cut out for such a hard life on the road. He is of noble blood and has responsibilities here at home. Please return him to his kind of people and claim your coin in recompense.

Sincerely,

Francois Reginald Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove

Constantina Charlotte Pankratz, Lady de Lettenhove

Geralt glanced up from the contract and out into the main dining room where Jaskier was currently jigging atop one of the surprisingly sturdy tables. The bard’s smile was bright, his voice was strong and clear as he sang of lovers meeting in secret, and his blue eyes twinkled with joy. He loved the attention of performing. How could Geralt take that away from him, even if he would be safer at home? Even if he would be married to another, spending his time with another, caring for another…

But didn’t Geralt care about Jaskier? Isn’t that why he’d risked life and limb over and over to keep the bard safe? Because Geralt loved him? He pushed the thought away with haste and tried to keep his expression neutral. His amber eyes strayed to the upturned hat at Jaskier’s feet. People had been depositing coins there all night and a rather decent pile had sprung up but -

But he could be doing better, Geralt thought. He could be taking a warm bath every night and buying expensive oils from real apothecaries and not sketchy traveling salesmen. He could be dressing in silk every day and never complain about having to wear a woolen doublet for warmth again. He could sleep next to a fire in a real feather-bed. With blankets. He could stay healthy and safe and never go near another angry monster for all his days.

Something in the Witcher’s heart withered and died when he realized just how much he’d been holding Jaskier back; something important. Something the bard had helped him cultivate over six long years of traveling together. In an instant the Witcher had hidden it away in a dark corner to die.

“Alright.”

“Huh,” the messenger smirked. “They thought it would take more bribery to get you to agree, Witcher.”

“It’s not about the crowns,” Geralt shrugged, gaze flitting back up to Jaskier. The bard’s twinkling cornflower-blue eyes met with his and Geralt quickly glanced away, already ridden with guilt and shame over his decision. “It’s about making him happy and keeping him safe.”

“If I didn’t know any better about your kind and their lack of feelings,” the messenger snorted, “I’d say you might even love the Little Lord Pankratz.”

“If I didn’t know any better about myself,” Geralt replied, “I might agree.”

“See you in two weeks, then. Hope you can make it to Redania in time.”

“Why not just portal us there? Jaskier said his family had a hired mage.”

“Busy with wedding preparations,” the man shrugged. “Anyway, I must be going. The Viscount and her Ladyship are eager to hear your reply. See you soon, I’m sure.”

The stranger stood, bowed, and disappeared back to Lettenhove with the signed contract. Geralt swallowed back a mouthful of bile. He hated himself. He really did. But this is what’s best for Jaskier.

---

“Who was that, earlier at the table?” the bard asked. He was lounging on the bed with a tin of lute polish in one hand and a rag in the other. “Did he have a contract?”

“Yes. In Redania, actually.”

“Oh, lovely! It’s almost time for the summer festivals to begin; I can show you the best alehouse in all of Novigrad while we’re there.”

“My job is near Lettenhove. Do you want to go with me?”

“Sure. Might be fun to swing by my old stomping grounds. This doesn’t have anything to do with my canceled wedding, does it?” the bard shot him a pointed look. Geralt schooled his features into some sort of passivity and shook his head.

“Vampires rarely attend the weddings of minor nobility,” the Witcher lied through his teeth.

“Vampires, huh? Nifty. Haven’t had one of those to write about in awhile.”

“Hmm.”

---

“Geralt, help! Geralt, please! GERALT!”

The Witcher tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He kept hearing Jaskier’s raw, heartbroken voice ringing in his ears. He could still smell the desperation and panic that clung to the bard’s soft skin as he struggled to get away from his captors. To get back to where the Witcher stood with Roach and the gatekeeper. Geralt kept imagining those eyes, those fucking beautiful eyes, brimming with tears of betrayal as a liveried servant handed him a velvet pouch stuffed fat with crowns. Oh gods, the way his bard had looked at him…Geralt shoved his head out the window and vomited. There was nothing but the sour sting of bile against his tongue and the back of his throat. He heaved in a breath but choked back the sob threatening to come with it.

“Please don’t leave me here, Geralt! Don’t take the money! I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t talk as much, I won’t touch Roach again, I won’t write any ballads about you, Geralt please, I lo-”

The guards had dragged Jaskier inside and slammed the heavy oak door shut before he could finish his sentence, but the Witcher had gotten the general idea. The bard thought he was doing this out of hatred and not out of the sincerest, purest love Geralt had ever felt. He thought this was a punishment and not a slightly backwards form of rescue. If only the bard could understand.

Jaskier’s love wasn’t unrequited.

The bard stole the very breath from Geralt’s lungs every time their eyes met. Every time Jaskier crowed with pride after finishing a new song about their adventures together the Witcher felt his icy heart melt a little more. Each casual brush of their hands as they walked side-by-side sent his emotions reeling. The way his exuberant bard looked as he strolled beside Roach, the sunshine bringing out streaks of dark red in his chestnut hair and lightening the embroidery on his travel jerkin, it was ethereal. Magical. Overwhelming in all the best ways.

And he’d given it all away for a measly pouch of a coin and a slightly clearer conscious. Or was it?

Geralt retched again as he came to another realization.

He had forced Jaskier into something he didn’t want. Geralt had always given his friend free reign. The younger man came on and off the Path like a bee between flowers, visiting and traveling with the Witcher when he pleased and leaving again for odd jobs or festivals when Geralt wasn’t in the mood for company. But he’d given him no choice about the marriage. No, he’d wrestled Jaskier to the ground and bound his hands. He’d gagged him. He’d flung the bard into Roach’s saddle and tied his crossed wrists to the pommel so he couldn’t pick the knots free and escape. He’d passed Jaskier off to the guards and watched them drag him away as he spit out the gag and started yelling.

As he confessed his love to Geralt after six long years on the Path together.

Fucking hells, what have I done to him?

The suddenly panicked Witcher tumbled from his rented bed and reached for his boots. There was no time to spare. There was no time to waste.

There was only Jaskier.

---

Jaskier couldn’t believe it.

After all this time. After all their adventures. After all the songs he’d written and rooms he’d gotten them at comfortable inns, this is how the Witcher repaid him. Trading him back to his parents for a bag of coin like he was some sort of slave or whore.

He was a bard.

He was Geralt’s bard.

Well, he used to be Geralt’s bard. Now he was going to be Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and Lord of Rinde by marriage.

He wished he could just stop breathing and disappear. His heart thudded dully in his chest and it felt as if he was floating several feet below the surface of deep water. He was unable or unwilling to surface; maybe both. There was no point anymore, really. Geralt, the only person he’d ever really loved, had trussed him up like a market goose and traded him for silver.

The food his family’s servants brought him laid mostly untouched. He knew how to eat just enough to keep from dying. He’d been in plenty of dungeons and bandit camps before. Jaskier had spent six years following the Witcher’s Path and surviving off of whatever Geralt caught or he traded for. There was no reason to eat any more than what he needed to keep his body alive. There was no reason to get out of bed. Or bathe. Or change clothes. These clothes still smelled like the road. Like lute polish and chamomile oil and Roach and mud and Geralt.

“Please,” his mother begged, clasping his limp hand in both of hers. She’d been sitting at his bedside for maybe an hour, watching him stare listlessly up into the green velvet canopy above him. “Just eat something substantial. Say something. Do something, Julian. We know you aren’t happy with us or our decision but you can’t just lay here all day and wallow in self-pity. You have responsibilities to take care of; Ainsley has grown worried and her father is impatient.”

“The wedding is tomorrow,” he’d replied. There was no emotion in his voice and the monotony was soothing to his own ears. Geralt didn’t like it when he got too excited. Best to be calm and quiet like a good little noble. “I will be presentable. I will be at the altar. I will do my duty for the family.”

“Thank you, Julian.”

“But I will not love her.”

“You never have to love her,” his mother smiled. She gave his hand another small pat before standing and moving towards the door. Her job here was done, after all. “We only need you to marry her.”

---

Geralt pounded up the steps of the keep two-at-a-time. His usually slow heartbeat was now pounding in his ears like a warlord’s drum. He had to save Jaskier, he had to - the door slammed open and something hard went flying into his chest, knocking him back a step. The Witcher reached out a hand to steady the person he’d collided with but his amber eyes were still focused on the castle’s front door. He moved to step around the stranger and into the building when they suddenly spoke. The bard’s voice was pitchy and low from crying all morning: “Geralt?”

“Jaskier?” the Witcher gasped. His grip tightened around the younger man’s upper arm. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Jaskier looked truly flabbergasted. His expression shifted from shock to anger quickly, however, and the hurt in those blue eyes nailed Geralt to the ground where he stood. “Am I OKAY? You absolute fucking moron; of course I’m not okay. The love of my life tied me up, handed me over to my horrible fucking family like a Beltane offering, and disappeared into the night with a fat bag of crowns. The one person I love most in this world, the only person I’d ever trust with my life or my lute, treated me like a transaction of some sort. I am very much not okay, Geralt of Rivia! Now pick me up, take me to Roach, and get me the fuck out Lettenhove before I have to marry that horrible, terrible, hideous woman!”

The Witcher cracked a smile. Jaskier jabbed a finger into his chest and frowned even more deeply. “Why the fuck are you smiling, Witcher?”

“Because I missed the sound of your voice.”

The bard blushed, his righteous anger faltering.

“I love you too,” Geralt added. Jaskier’s eyes somehow grew even rounder and more watery. “I’m so fucking sorry but I didn’t know how else to protect you. I thought that maybe after coming home and seeing how much nicer it was than being on the Path you might want to stay here and be safe. Live your life normally. I thought you’d be happier here than you were with me. You’d certainly wouldn’t be hurt as often.”

“Did you just say that you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear me say that I love you, mere moments ago?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the fuck would you try to get rid of me?” The Witcher tried not to flinch when Jaskier placed a gentle hand against his cheek. He’d expected a slap. A kick to the shin. A knee to the groin. Screaming. He hadn’t expected that look of soft understanding to dawn on Jaskier’s boyish face. Despite the knowing sparkle in his eyes, the bard’s voice was sad. “Caged birds never sing, Geralt. What an awful cage it would have been; I'd never see my handsome Witcher again. I'd never attend another royal wedding as entertainment. I'd never write another line of song, much less be able to sing it. I would have been miserable Geralt. I probably would have died much sooner here than I would on the Path.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“As soon as you do as I say and get me the hell out of here, then yes, I’ll consider forgiving you, Witcher.”

“Well I suppose we shouldn’t waste any time.”

Geralt flung the bard up and over his shoulder and took off back down the steps at a sprint. He wasn’t going to let those people have his darling Jaskier back. Not if they tried to cage him and take his voice. He knew better now. He understood.

They loved each other.

The bard was laughing brightly, bouncing along as Geralt made for the stables. He could see his family exiting the Great Hall and making their way in his direction. It didn’t matter. They’d never catch up with his Witcher. He shot them several naughty hand gestures and grinned widely when Geralt swung them both up into Roach’s saddle. “Sorry girl,” he apologized. “Time for our daring escape into the woods.”

---

"Fifteen hundred crowns, huh?" Jaskier asked, eyeing the hefty purple velvet bag.

"Actually there are only fourteen hundred left," Geralt shrugged. He reached into his saddlebag and brought out a small leather pouch, which he handed to Jaskier. The bard opened it, peered inside, and gasped in very genuine surprise.

"Geralt..."

"Do you like it?" the Witcher was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in the cutest way. Jaskier wanted to answer but his heart was caught somewhere between his throat and his stomach so he couldn't quite form words. He nodded.

"Can you help me put it on?"

"There's no clasp. They aren't meant to have clasps."

"I know."

Geralt's heart soared as he lifted his gift for Jaskier out of the bag and lowered it over his head. The medallion rested just between his collarbones, framed by a tuft of the bard's chest hair. It was a copy of Geralt's wolf medallion, only this wolf held a flower in its mouth. Gently, as if unwilling to break the stem or let it go.

"It's perfect," the bard beamed. His eyes were watery and he blinked the tears free to keep staring at his new jewelry. "Thank you."

"Hmm."

"What do you want to do with the rest of the money?"

"I don't know," the Witcher shrugged. "Maybe go to the coast?"

"I've always wanted to go there!"

Geralt pressed a tender kiss against Jaskier's lips, reveling in the sensation of his bard melting against his chest. They'd spent the last few nights wrapped around each other, whispering secrets and stories into each others mouths until sleep overtook them. Tonight would be no different, except that now Jaskier felt truly safe. He felt loved. He felt utterly surrounded by the happiness that came with being on the Path next to his Witcher. "What are you thinking about, little lark?"

"I'm glad you came back for me. I'm glad we're together now."

"Hmm. Me too."

#geraskier fic #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier whump #geralt of rivia whump #jaskier whump #geraskier hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #geralt/jaskier #emotional hurt/comfort #h/c fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix

589 notes · View notes