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jadewritesficshere · 13 days ago

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Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

#Steve whines to Robin later who just sits there laughing until she cries #Until he points out she's aged too because she has laugh lines from smiling and then she spirals just a bit #He has to hold her hand and tell her its a good thing and she goes on a rant about anti-aging and its harder for women then men #How there's all this extra pressure and Steve is aghast like he isnt dumb he knew there was but he never heard it all verbalized #He comes home and kisses you and gets on his knees and tells you he loves you #He then begs you to let him show you how much he loves you wanting nothing more then to use his tongue on you #I mean why would you not let him #And when you lay in bed cuddling after he thinks again he doesn't mind aging if he's doing it with you #You wake up abruptly in the middle of the night and startle him awake #“Oh my God Amelia is going to go to high school and get a boyfriend” you whine #Steve just mutters an oh God and immediately starts thinking if it would be TOO much to have the nail bat when he speaks to said boyfriend #You both think about it for a long time meanwhile Amelia is asleep in her room with drool running out of her mouth hugging a stuffed animal #Anyways Steve nation we up??? This has been drafted for awhile but not posted but I am inspired #And I saw this and went oh yeah post that #So here it is...for u...on this fine Friday early morning #Jade is talking #steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington/you #Steve Harrington/reader #steve harrington x female!reader

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organised-disaster · 9 months ago

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Okay after much stalling here it is. @randosfandos was responsible for about 90% of the encouragement so this is their fault. The first chapter of my Hunger Games fanfic

SNOWBIRD: CHAPTER I

I finally knock my opponent's feet out from under her with one sweeping kick, then rush behind her and catch her into a chokehold. She turns bright red, frothing at the mouth, then rapidly taps my arm after only a few seconds.

I drop her. She rubs her throat, gasping and coughing as she slumps over on the ground. I sit down next to her, trying to catch my breath. I underestimated how difficult that would be. I pull my black hair out of its high ponytail, wrapping the band around my wrist.

It reaches my lower back when I'm standing, although my slouched sitting position means it now brushes the ground. I would always absent-mindedly play with it when I was younger. I tend to do that less now.

I massage my sore chin. It took far too many hits in that fight. My sparring partner is no better off, one of her eyes squeezed shut and my handprints on her skin from every harsh grab. I probably clawed her up more than was necessary, now that I think about it.

But we're not training for a competition, are we? We're training to be deadly on our own without weapons. There always has to be a certain sense of urgency when it comes to training, but today we felt it most. We had to finish fast, after all. This was a last-minute session.

She punches my shoulder. I glance at her. She's holding out her hand for me to shake. I take it, the wrapping on both our hands rasping together. She stands up, stretches her back, and walks out the door of the den.

Fair enough. I should leave to get cleaned up, too. A good shower and a lot of soap would do wonders for me right now. I crack my neck as I rise. Then my knuckles. Then my wrists.

As I finish twisting my left wrist around, someone in the audience catches my eye. She waves meekly at me, one hand on her knee and clutching at the hem of her blue dress. It's quite a nice summer dress. She's wearing it for a good reason today. I wave back at Sera, smiling at her. She looks like she laughs, tucking some of her curly dirty-blonde hair behind her ear.

Her warm, amber eyes crinkle when she laughs. She's always been a good friend of mine. Always. But... I mostly only call her my friend because it's the safest option. I don't truly know how I feel about Sera, only that I trust her. That I love her, platonic or otherwise.

I push those thoughts to the back of my mind. It's not important right now. I'll have time to figure it all out later. Sera stands up and starts to walk down the steps from her row in the seats.

She's never been stable on stairs, giving her an unsure step down. It's careful and controlled, however, so that she doesn't fall. She has to hold her hair behind her ears while she walks down. Otherwise, it obscures her vision.

It's always so pretty, the way she gets down stairs, all things combined. The way she carefully tests her stability with one foot, gently bringing the other down and hesitating before repeating the whole thing again.

She's quite a graceful-looking girl, Sera. Even if she trips over, as she likes to say, "particularly thick patches of air." She always manages to recover immediately, popping up with some bright comment about the quality of the pavement or the situation with the ants.

Sera reaches the bottom of the stairs and smiles at me. She closes her eyes when she smiles. It's a sweet, although slightly childish, trait that's persisted even to the age of seventeen.

"Did you see that, Rumes? Made it to the floor this time," she says, the light tone of her voice suggesting she's not serious.

"Yes, you did very well, Sera. Would you like an award?" I jab playfully back. I theatrically spread my hands in the air, acting like I'm showing something off. "Sera Kaishurr, great at not tripping and snapping her neck during basic physical activity!"

Sera elbows me, annoyed but still amused. I can't disguise the pained groan that comes out of my mouth. I must have bruised pretty rough after my sparring partner hit me in the ribs.

Sera tsks disapprovingly.

"Is it that bad, Rumes?" she asks, genuinely concerned now. Her playfulness has vanished, being replaced by mild sadness. Sera has always looked out for me.

"Oh, just hurts a little. I'll be fine in no time, don't you worry," I say clunkily. I may as well have told her with how bad that lie was. I'm not a bad liar, but I just can't seem to lie to Sera.

As expected, she's not convinced. She rolls her eyes.

"It's okay if you got hurt, Rumes. You don't have to act like you're invincible," she says. I give a short, quiet laugh.

"Nah, I'm immortal. I'm indestructible. Infallible, even," I jokingly boast.

"Ah, yes, Rumi Erudite, famous for never ever making a single mistake in her whole life, ever," Sera shoots in response.

We both laugh. She takes one of my hands, her fingers between mine, and starts leading me out the door of the building.

"Oh, also, happy birthday, you jerk. Your present's on your bed," Sera says, trying to sound annoyed.

"Aw, you shouldn't have," I say. Sera laughs softly, tucking her hair behind her ear again. I study her face, unable to tear away my eyes.

Some people think we're sisters, if only for a short while. Their main justifications are our heights and how close we are. I can sort of see it with our similar statures and frames. But there are differences aside from our hair colour and attitudes that make us easy to tell apart.

Sera's eyes are that gorgeous dark gold. Mine are just a foggy green. Sera is healthily tanned, spending all her time out on the open ocean, while I am an alarming type of pale for someone my age, spending my time indoors learning all the ways to kill someone with a fishhook.

Sera is strong with calloused hands, handling nets and heavy loads of fish. I am fit and scarred, exercising and fighting every day of my life. Sera is broad-shouldered and round-faced, I am lean with a narrow face and sharp cheekbones.

Sera is capable, definitely, but her body has a pleasant softness to it that she can't seem to shed, always eating well and in large quantities. My body has nothing in excess as a result of a tight diet and tighter exercise.

Sera is bright and brilliant, always smiling or laughing. I always look outwardly hostile, my default expression of a scowl making me unapproachable. We lead very different lives, Sera and I. We couldn't be sisters. And... I think I'd prefer we remain that way.

My heart's beating faster now that she's holding my hand. I squeeze her hand tighter, looking to hold it forever. There is only birdsong to greet us. We are awake before the sun.

"Hey, come on. Let's see the sunrise," says Sera, leading me to where we always go.

There's a hill that runs behind the Justice Building. The hill is almost touching it with how close it is, meaning if you know your way through the alleyways, you can get onto the hill and the roof of the Justice Building.

The Peacekeepers don't usually do anything to stop people from just sitting there. Why would they? They have no reason to even bother. The only people who ever go there are me and Sera. And the odd couple, of course.

Sera talks about nothing in particular while leading me there. She goes on and on and on about her latest fishing trip. Allegedly, she caught some kind of shark that was this big. The shark gets bigger every time she mentions it.

Sera talks when she gets nervous. I've found that out during school presentations. Sera once completely froze up and started a nearly irrelevant tangent about muttations. We were supposed to be talking about the core industries of every district at the time.

Her anxious ramblings slowly fade from my hearing. I can see, from my place at her side, the notch in her nose, which makes it a little crooked. I've always blamed myself for Sera's slightly disrupted features. I can very clearly visualise how it happened to her.

We were young, very, and we were playing by the docks. I was only seven while she couldn't have been older than six. It was just after my seventh birthday, I believe.

She called me "Roo" when we were younger. She didn't really have a reason to stop, although I guess she didn't really have a reason to start, either.

We loved to chase each other around the docks. Her father's boat was a favourite landmark of ours. We used it as a final point for any races we ran. We were fully aware that there were rocks right under the dock, just in front of where Sera's father would tie up his boat. It was why it was "his" spot; he was the only one brave enough to risk gouging a hole in his boat.

One day, that boat was missing. Sera's father had taken it out for a fishing trip. Sera loved to come along with him, but she was at my house and hadn't known that he had set out.

We were once again chasing each other.

"You're too slow, Roo! Can't catch me!" I felt absolute outrage at Sera's statement.

"Nuh-uh! Can too!" I said, using my best counter. It was true, I was unable to catch her. She kept running along the docks.

It had started to rain, and the water made the rotting wood at the far ends of the dock slippery. Sera and I knew how to run without slipping, but it didn't mean we didn't still fall from time to time.

"Ser-uuuhh! Wait up! You're too fast!" I whined at her. She giggled and kept going. I ran faster, trying to catch her. One of my feet lost its grip on the dock. It was the old part of it, after all.

I kept running, though. My balance wasn't thrown too far off.

"I'm gonna get there before you!" Sera teased. We kept running together. Sera never seemed to tire, never seemed to need rest.

I was always envious of her stamina. I noticed the ship missing before Sera did, however.

"Sera! Wait, the boat!" was all I could manage. Sera did spot it, but not before she had already veered off to the side that would throw her onto the jagged rocks below her.

She stopped, but far too late.

"Sera!"

The rocks weren't kind to Sera, seeing as nature will have no mercy on a child. All that remains of Sera's accident to remind me of my failure is a crooked nose and two barely noticeable scars on her forehead and mouth.

I attempt to find these scars with my eyes now. I fail, but I remember exactly what they look like. From her right eyebrow to her hair parting is a pink line just about visible against her vaguely tan, freckled skin. From her chin to her nose is an almost invisible scar that I believe also runs inside her mouth. She was lucky to escape with only those.

Oh, and her speech impediment. She was left unable to properly say things with an audible "w" in them. Sometimes, just so she doesn't have to hurt her mouth trying to say a "w" word, she'll pause and actively avoid it. It makes her sound a little like the six year old she was when she got it.

She can't really say "w" sounds, either. It means she has odd ways of saying words like "out." She tends to avoid words she struggles to say. She doesn't try anything when she gets emotional, though, just letting the words tear up her tongue.

Sera doesn't remember a thing of the day she got hurt. Sera doesn't remember about a week before that, either, but that's understandable, considering she was young. I would find it understandable, however, if Sera wasn't able to recall the week before the one she has no memory of.

Sera, for a while after her injury, had memory problems. To this day, she's more forgetful than I think would be reasonable for a healthy person.

"Rumi? Are you even listening?" Sera's voice snaps me back to the present day.

"No, sorry, I stopped listening to you three years ago," I blurt. I watch Sera make a bizarre medley of facial expressions as she tries to restrain a smile.

She inevitably fails, her eyes creasing up as her beautiful smile shows on her face.

"Fine, Erudite, you're forgiven," she says, defeated. I laugh. I glance around. We've walked farther than I thought while I was lost in my thoughts.

We're now right next to the Justice Building. Sera continues to walk, although she speaks less now. I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing.

Whatever the case, it doesn't matter. We'll both be okay today. Sera's face is paler than normal today. I give her hand a tight, quick squeeze to remind her that I'm still here for her.

She smiles back at me. I can't help but notice that it seems ever so slightly forced.

After a short walk through the housing past the Justice Building, we've come to Sera's family home. As is normal, we do an awkward, flattened shuffle between the fence lines of Sera's home and her neighbour's.

We pop into the space behind the homes. This narrow sliver of dirt is the only path not blocked by trees or barbed wire. Sera's property line has no trees on it, making it the most convenient path.

She's no longer holding my hand. It's childish that that's all it takes to upset me, even if it's only slightly. I don't truly care, but a part of me wants to be that near again. For her skin and mine to be that close.

I push that thought away as I follow just behind Sera. We're quiet as we pass behind houses, not looking to disturb those still sleeping.

The ground slopes upwards. Sera runs quickly up the hill, bouncing off each of her feet so she doesn't slow down. I copy her. We reach the top of the hill, almost completely lined up with the Justice Building.

Sera takes a few steps back, then runs up to the ledge. She springs forward, easily clearing the gap. She trips and loses her balance when she lands. She doesn't quite land on her face, although she gets close.

"Uh-oh, Rumes, the roof is cracked! Better not... uh." Sera cuts off her own joking comment, falling into an uncomfortable silence. She's nervous to the point where she won't even make jokes anymore.

I clear the gap also, joining her on the other side. Sera gives a quietly uncertain laugh, walking over to the edge of the roof and sitting down. She kicks her legs as they hang over the edge.

The silence slowly shifts into peace as I sit down on her right. We don't need to talk, not when we have this view. This view of the docks, the ocean.

The sun. It starts to rise after a while. It strikes the water, letting me see every tiny ripple in the surface I thought was flat as glass. The tide will be coming back in soon. People will start to depart to catch fish.

Well, they would on a normal day. Sera would be one of those people, handling tridents and nets and fish and maps and helms and knots. Sera would come home late, clothes stiff with salt and hands blistered from ropes.

She's been hurt out there more than a few times. Tangled in ropes or cut by her own knife, giving her awful burns or severe lacerations. She once spent a full day recovering in Cod's workspace after being impaled by a swordfish that lodged itself in her shin when she tried to harpoon it.

The swordfish is a favourite story of hers. Her father and Seth can both confirm it as true, and older fishermen can validate that it actually happens.

Regardless of whatever happens to her, however, Sera loves the open water. She's more stable on boats than on land, and such a strong swimmer that it's a wonder she's as uncoordinated as she is.

The sun turns the water almost white as it finds its footing in the sky, growing larger than the sliver of gold it appeared before. I glance over at Sera. It's getting hard for both of us to see the sunrise as it gets brighter, and Sera's eyes are already halfway shut.

"You sure did get up early just to watch me, huh?" I say, breaking the silence. I hadn't considered it before, but as the sun outshines every other star, I can't help but acknowledge that Sera woke up at an unholy hour just to see me practice fighting.

Sera sighs.

"Truth be told, I never really slept," she says, awkwardly scratching the back of her head. "I'm just so scared, the idea of keeping my eyes closed never really..." I lean my head on her shoulder as we watch the ocean.

"Hey, you'll be okay. Your odds of getting drawn are lower than mine," I reassure her.

Sera stops looking out to the horizon, glaring down at the ground far below us instead. She balls her hands up, gripping the edge of the roof so hard I'm convinced the stone will break off in her hands.

"That's w-w-what I'm scared about," she starts, briefly tightly shutting her eyes as she concentrates on saying the letter "w." "I'm not scared for me. I'm scared for you," she says, voice wavering. I'm confused.

Sera doesn't look at me, continuing to attempt to melt the concrete far below us with her eyes.

"Rumes. I need you to promise me you w-w-won't volunteer today," she says quietly. There is an urgency in her voice I don't believe I've ever heard.

"Of course I won't, Sera," I reassure her. Sera looks at me. She's crying, I notice. Her expression doesn't suggest sadness, however. She looks more determined than anything.

The light of the rising sun make her tears nearly glow on her face. The loose strands of her hair are made to look like flaming gold, the sunlight reflecting in her eyes. They shine brighter than ever now, in this moment, wet with tears and defiance.

I am left breathless as I stare at her. The word that floats into my halted thoughts is ethereal. Sera is a goddess given human form. Sera is the only true thing in this gorgeous, shining moment. Nothing is as important as Sera. The sun itself has highlighted her against the skyline.

"No. Promise. I w-w-want you to promise me. Promise me that you w-w-won't volunteer even though you're eighteen," she insists. The crack in her voice reminds me that she is just a girl. I take a deep breath in, remembering that I am human also.

"Okay, Sera. I promise you I won't volunteer," I say gently. Sera nods slightly, looking back out at the horizon again. She starts to chew on her lower lip, nervously biting until it bleeds.

She licks the blood off, looking at me again. She looks like she wants to say something. I place my hand on her leg, reminding her that I'm here.

"I'm really, really scared, Rumes," she finally says, burying her face in her hands. Her voice is tiny. I shuffle closer to her and put my arm around her. I let her cry into my shoulder as the sun finishes coming up.

#the hunger games #snowbird chapter 1 #rumi erudite #sera kaishurr #hunger games fic #oh wow i did it #polished(ish) writing #if this flops you saw nothing #if this flops you never saw it #if this flops i will cry #i gave it serious tags and everything #okay randos here you go enjoy #i got most of the errors but i honestly cant be bothered to comb through it again #snowbird #couldnt find this when i searched my tags and was like hey what the hell did u delete it by mistake?? so i scrolled through everything #and i never tagged it with “snowbird” just “snowbird chapter 1”#-_-

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