#yes this is still a birthday prompt i'm sorry i'm slow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spei-sidus · 1 year ago

Text

You Taste Better Than Peaches

Rating: Explicit

No Archive Warnings

Usagi, now 18, asks Motoki out and is rejected. After she flees his birthday party, she stops in an alleyway to cry, until Tuxedo Kamen swoops in and shares with her a night neither of them will forget; however, since neither one will discuss their agenda for the Ginzuishou, they know this one night together will be their last. First Season Reveal AU

Prompts used:

Dirty talk, "Shhhh", Desserts, "You taste delicious", Hot Mess, "I love it when you...", Three's company, Hips, "Drown between your thighs", Holding back, I won't say I'm in love, Peaches, Sweat, "You're wearing too many clothes", "That's the beauty of a secret", Caught in the act, “Come south of the border with me”

Chapter 1

“What’re you doing, Odango Atama?”

“Shhhh!”

Mamoru edged over to the doorway where Usagi was hovering. “You know it’s impolite to stare, right?”

“I’m not staring!” She was gathering courage for what she was about to do. It was time to ask Motoki out on a date. She’d waited forever for this day. She was eighteen now and ready to confess her feelings. She was forcing herself to set aside her feelings for Tuxedo Kamen. It’s been four years and he was still posturing as a potential enemy. The girls would never let her date him. So she was going for her childhood crush instead.

She took a deep breath, then began walking across the room where Motoki stood. They were in Motoki’s apartment for his birthday party. Usagi hoped this would be the perfect setting for her plan. The only other place was the arcade and she didn’t want to bother him when he was working.

“Motoki-kun?”

Motoki paused in his laughter at one of his friends’ jokes and smiled at her. “Yes?”

“May I talk to you? Alone?”

“Sure?” The entire apartment was full of people, so they headed down to the ground floor then stood outside in front of the building.

“Usagi-chan?”

“I-I just wanted to tell you that I’ve liked you for a long time,” she rushed without looking at him, “and I was hoping you and I could date?”

“I’m sorry, Usagi-chan,” he said slowly. Her horrified eyes locked with his sympathetic ones. “I’m already in a serious, long-term relationship.”

“You are?”

“Yes. She’s been overseas doing research but she’ll be back in about a year or so. After that we plan to get married.”

Usagi blanched. “I see,” she said in a strangled tone. “Well, thank you for hearing me out. Don’t worry - I won’t say I’m in love. I-I gotta go.”

“Usagi-chan!”

She bolted down the street blindly, counting on her reflexes from her morning dash to school to get her home. But she wasn’t as familiar with this area, so she had to slow down. She dashed into an alleyway, where she leaned up against a wall and tried to catch her breath. Why was it so difficult for her to have a guy she wanted? She cried into her hands, uncaring if the other pedestrians heard her. She felt so utterly heartbroken. All these years, Motoki never said a word! Tuxedo Kamen didn’t want her either. He rescued her, sure, but he kept his distance, and he made no secret of wanting the nijizuishou.

“AHHHH!” she screamed when a dark shadow jumped down to the ground next to her. She rounded about to face the intruder, her hand reflexively going to her brooch. Then her jaw went slack. “Tuxedo Kamen-sama?”

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

She blinked. “No, not physically.”

“Emotionally?”

What was this, an inquisition? “Yes, sir,” she said.

His hands reached out to brace her upper arms as he pulled her closer. “Why?” he asked softly.

“Why do you care?” she asked defensively.

“I care about you, Tsukino Usagi.”

“How do you know my name?” she asked in alarm.

“I know you.”

“You know me?” He must have figured out she was Sailor Moon. She knew this was not good, but she didn't have the ability to think properly just then. “Well, I’m alright, okay? See you at the next battle?”

She turned to go when his grip tightened. “Battle? What are you talking about?”

Her eyes went wide. “Nothing, nothing,” she stammered. “You know, those battles are really interesting, I - hey!” she protested as he swept her up into his arms and carried her in an all too familiar position. “You can’t just kidnap me like this,” she said, hardly flinching when he jumped up to the rooftops. Her vision was obscured by his cape; wherever he was taking her, he didn’t want her to see. “I should report you for this,” she said without any heat, secretly thrilled her hero was absconding with her.

“Good luck with that,” he replied in amusement, “since no one knows who I am.”

“But you know me somehow.”

“I know enough about you that you have a little crush on me.”

Her face went as red as a tomato. “Who told you that?!”

“A little birdie. It doesn’t matter who.”

She was dying of curiosity, but forced herself to think of more immediate things. “So what happens now?”

“You’ll see.”

Chapter 2

They landed on a balcony of a building. He swiftly opened the balcony door then slid it shut, pulling the curtain over, surrounding them in darkness. He let her down slowly, her form sliding down his. He held her close to him for a moment, before saying, “I’m going to kiss you now.” Her surprised gasp was swallowed by his lips, which greedily nibbled hers, his tongue tracing the line between her lips until she parted them. His tongue slid inside, dancing with hers, swirling, then he was thrusting repeatedly into her mouth with his tongue and she moaned as heat went down to her core. His mouth released hers as he tilted her backwards a bit, kissing and licking from her cheek to her jaw, down her neck, and settled on her collarbone. She panted as the sensations overwhelmed her.

“Dearest, sweetest Usagi-”

She shuddered.

“-I’m asking permission to touch you, caress you, kiss you.” His hands cupped her face. “And make love to you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she said, disbelieving what she was hearing.

“I want to have sex with you,” he clarified, “but only if you want to.”

“But - but why?”

“Because I want to.”

That wasn’t a reason. She shook her head. “You - you don’t really know me,” she hedged.

“Oh I think I do,” he said as he hovered closer to her lips. “Now what is your answer, hmm?”

She stared up at him, the guy she’d been crushing on for four years, the man who swept her away from danger and truly had stolen her breath and heart. He was the one she really wanted. Somehow he knew her, Tsukino Usagi! But he didn’t seem to know she was Sailor Moon. It didn’t feel right to do this without telling him - unless this was a one-night stand? “Are you asking me to be together with you?”

His face became pained. “For your safety, I can’t,” he said. “It’ll just be a one time thing.”

That simplified things a bit. She could keep this a secret. He didn’t know her identity. The Senshi will never know. She could have this one night. “Okay.”

“Okay…?”

“I want to have sex with you.”

He tossed his hat to the side, then once again swept her up into his arms, carrying her across the room and into a doorway that led to presumably a bedroom. He sat down on the bed and placed her on his lap. He removed his gloves. His right hand proceeded to cup her left breast while his lips sucked on the place where her neck and her shoulder met. His left hand trailed up and down her stomach, the shirt having ridden up. She arched her back. “That feels good…” her words dissolved into gurgled moans.

“Good?”

“Yes, Tuxedo…Kamen…sama.”

His hand on her stomach slowly trailed back to her arm, going up and down, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The hand cupping her breast resumed the stroking of her stomach, slowly reaching toward the waistband of her skirt with trembling fingers. He shuddered against her backside, before stroking back up again, his left arm inching its way to her right breast, cupping it. She sighed into his masterful hands. “You’re good at this,” she breathed.

“Thank you. Let me know if I’m hurting you in any way. I…have never done this before.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Me neither,” she confessed, hoping it eased any embarrassment. “I’m surprised that you want to give your virginity to me.”

“Mhmm,” he moaned into her neck, as lost in the feelings as she was. His hands stroked upward, still crossed, until they cupped each side of her neck, gently moving across the skin, while his chin lay on top of her head. She shuddered as his fingers traced the width of her neck, meeting in the middle, before sweeping diagonally away and downward, cupping both breasts now, massaging them gently. She was panting heavily as he worked, groaning parts of his name as he went.

“You’re a natural at this,” she said in-between pants.

His breath at her ear made her shudder. “I’m glad you think so,” he breathed. His hands shifted to skim the sides of her torso before reaching the waistband of her skirt. His legs shifted until hers were on the outside of his, and he spread his legs wide. Usagi whimpered as she realized what he was about to do. His right hand reached into the waistband of her skirt, stroking her soaked underwear while his left pulled up the bottom of her skirt until it reached her waist, then began trailing his fingers up and down her thigh.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” she cried out, lost in the mixture of her pleasure and the pain she’d carried all these years.

His voice turned remorseful. “I don’t want to leave you either,” he whispered sadly. Abruptly the strokes on her underwear became harder, sliding all over her folds, her mound, and her clit. He was rewarded with louder moans, her hands coming up to rest behind his neck.

“Please,” she begged, but didn’t know exactly what she was asking for.

“Please what?” he murmured, sending more delicious sensations down her ear to her core.

She blushed. “Would you kiss me?” When he moved to kiss her lips, she corrected him. “I mean, kiss me down there.”

He groaned, then lifted her up, turning and gently laying her down on the bed, close to the edge. She heard him shift a bit, and then he was there, fingers trailing up her thighs, carefully pulling off her knee-high socks. He skimmed over her bare calves and thighs until he found the waistband of her underwear. His fingers curled in, his nails lightly scratching which left more tingles in their wake, and then the underwear was being pulled upwards and off. One hand remained on her foot while the other tossed the underwear to the side. The hand holding her foot slid up over her inner thigh until he reached her core. Both hands massaged the area, then went to her thighs to pull them up and back, so that she was spread wide for him. She hissed as he finally lowered his mouth to the area, his lips trailing her mound until he found her clit. His mouth nibbled it at first. She bucked her hips at him in response as she began panting again. Then his tongue was swirling while he was still lightly nibbling with his lips.

“Oh my, OHH!” she screamed as her juices flowed out of her. Then she felt a finger enter her, gasping as she felt it pump within her while he still showered his attentions on her clit. He then added a second finger, and that was all it took for her walls to clench around his fingers, his name to be yelled mindlessly, and for stars to appear behind her eyelids. He shifted his mouth from her clit to her vagina, licking up her juices.

“You taste delicious,” he moaned. “I could just drown between your thighs.”

“What do I taste like?” she asked curiously.

“Scoot backwards until your head is on the pillow,” he said, “and I will let you have a taste.”

She did as he said, and soon he was perched on the side of the bed, kissing her with her juices still on his lips. She didn’t particularly care for the taste, but it wasn’t abhorrent either. He nibbled on her bottom lip as she nibbled on his top lip, sucking her juices dry, until he pulled back.

“Now, my girl,” he said while she shuddered at the possessiveness displayed in that statement, “I’m going to put my dick in you.”

“May I kiss you there first?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, groaning.

“Yes. But you’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I must keep my identity a secret.”

“Keep everything but the lower half of your body covered. I’m not going to be able to figure it out by just looking at your legs - even if we were in a lit room, which we aren’t.”

He shifted again while she waited with bated breath. Then he asked, “Where do you want me?”

She smiled. “I’m going to put the pillow flat up against the headboard. I want you to sit there with your legs spread. I’m going to lie on my stomach between them. Then I’m going to suck you dry.”

“No you won’t,” he countered, “because I’m going to finish inside of you.”

Chapter 3

She moaned as she scooted back so he could place himself on the bed. “C’mon,” he beckoned. She slid onto her stomach then inched her way forward, feeling his thighs with her fingers as she went to ensure she was headed in the correct direction. Finally she reached his penis and scrotum. He hissed through his teeth as she fumbled in the dark, one hand squeezing the scrotum area while the other hand worked to find the base of the very erect cock.

She suddenly stilled when he flinched. “Careful,” he said gruffly, “the balls are very sensitive. Gentle touches only, okay?”

“Okay,” she said as she gently cupped them, shifting her attention to his dick. She began to slowly pump him up and down. “Is this good?”

“Yes,” he breathed out in-between hissing and moaning. She slid her hand upward farther up, wanting to know how long he was, her eyes widening as she finally felt his weeping head. He seemed to be large in both length and width. She whimpered at the thought of it inside of her. She swirled her fingers around the tip, noting that there was an area in front of her that was particularly sensitive. She leaned in and began licking the head until she found that grooved area. His body went stiff, his hands suddenly tugging on the streamers of her hair, holding her in place as she continued her ministrations. She licked upward to the very tip, sucking up the precum while he shuddered, then her lips closed around him, and slowly, carefully, she took him into her mouth. He hissed with pleasure. “Usagi,” he moaned loudly. When she hummed with satisfaction, her mouth still around his cock, he trembled from the vibrations. Then she was bobbing, a hand at the base, the other pumping in a matching rhythm. This went on for a couple of minutes before he gasped, “Stop.”

She lifted her head, kissing his tip before moving away. His legs clenched around her form. He grasped the hips that were right above his legs, untangled himself, and flipped her over, her head on the pillow, his form hovering above her. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” she breathed. She wanted this more than anything.

He nodded, then he was shuffling slightly, something being opened - a condom, she realized. “I’m on the pill,” she said. She had prepared for getting together with Motoki a couple of months ago, hopeful she would be his girlfriend. Tuxedo Kamen tossed the condom carelessly onto the floor beside the bed before he was pulling her legs apart. Then he was touching her, moving until he found her clit, stimulating it once more. When she cried out, he inched downward, putting a couple of fingers inside of her. “I love it when you are so wet for me,” he murmured.

“What can I say,” she gasped out, “you make me a hot mess.”

“Yes, I do,” he purred in satisfaction. He inched closer, pulling her legs higher. “Let me know if this hurts,” he murmured. “I’ve learned all I can on how to pleasure a woman, but I know it can be painful the first time. And I don’t know why, but being with you like this feels so natural…so familiar.”

“Really?” she breathed. They had come together very naturally for a pair of virgins, she realized. “Our passion is so natural - it makes everything so easy.”

He hummed his agreement. Then he was perching close to her, one hand guiding his penis, stroking her up and down from her clit to her vagina, soaking her juices; while the other held the nearest of her legs up and back, tilting her core up towards him. Then he was at her entrance, his cock swirling around and around her entrance, still soaking up juices. Usagi growled in frustration. “In please!” she demanded.

“Patience,” he said as his free hand disentangled from her leg to stroke her clit. “I promise once you’re adjusted to me, I’ll fuck you as hard as you want.”

She shuddered at that. “Would you know how?” she ventured.

“I’m a fast learner,” he said.

“And have strength and stamina,” she added with a smile. He really had good reflexes, too.

He kept up his attentions to her clit as he started to slowly sink into her. Usagi sighed as she felt him fill her insides. “More,” she said. He slowly inched in further. She gasped as she took a moment to adjust. “More,” she whimpered, and he complied. She gasped at the sensation, then started panting. “More,” she whined, and he finally entered her to the hilt. He groaned while she cried out. She reached out blindly for him; he lowered himself onto her. Her hands splayed themselves onto his chest, and then looped around to cling to his jacket. His hands cupped underneath her head, his fingers lightly clawing into her scalp, while his thumbs rubbed her cheeks. He kissed her fiercely, and she met his passion with hers, their mouths and breaths mingling. After what felt like an eternity he shifted until his forehead was touching hers - and only then, did he start moving. She mewled with pleasure while he grunted and moaned. “Usagi,” he murmured in-between gasps, causing more tingles to go straight down to her core. He shifted himself upwards, his thrusts now hard and fast. She soon felt the storm that was building up until she exploded, screaming, her hands clawing at his jacket haphazardly. With a matching cry he joined her, collapsing onto her frame, smothering her with his body, his essence; and she welcomed it wholeheartedly, treasuring this moment, wondering if they could go again and not stop until the sun rose.

Those pleasurable plans were interrupted by the beeping that resonated from her subspace pocket.

Chapter 4

“What is that?”

He could hear that? “My beeper. I gotta go.”

“What? Who has a beeper nowadays? Don’t you have a cell phone?” She was scrambling in the dark to find her underwear and her socks. She had to get out of there, and fast. She felt him grabbing at her desperately in the dark. “What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm.

“I’m sorry - I gotta go.”

“Where do you need to go? I’ll drop you off-”

“No!” she said sharply.

“Why not? It’ll be a lot faster than on foot. It’s also too late for you to be wandering around at night.”

She wanted so badly to say yes, to throw it all to the winds and confess her identity to him. But he could never know. He’d never forgive her. Neither would the Senshi. "Please let me go.”

“No.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“I’ve told you,” he growled. “I care about you, Usagi. Whatever that beeping is about can wait, and if it can’t, you aren’t going without me.”

She started crying. “I can’t. Please. You’ll hate me.”

“Hate you? What are you talking about?”

He wasn't going to let this go, and time was being wasted. A youma was on the loose terrorizing Tokyo. Usagi gave into the inevitable. “Just know I was willing to keep this night as a one time thing and nothing more.” He said nothing to that. She pulled her communicator out of her subspace pocket, flipping it open away from his sight. “Moon here.”

“Finally, Usagi! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a while now.”

“Sorry Mars.”

“Anyway, we have a youma here, at the shopping district. We need you ASAP.”

“On my way,” she said with a sigh. She looked over at his dark form. “You can carry me to some random rooftop. That way I can't figure out who you are.”

The silence stretched on uncomfortably. He made no moves nor made any sounds while she waited. “Right, okay. Well, I have a battle to get to, so if you don’t mind-” he grabbed her, accidentally brushing her breast as he held her arm.

“We’ll talk about this afterwards,” he said quietly.

She gulped. “I owe you that much,” she whispered.

“Go on and henshin then.”

“Moon Prism Power, Make Up!”

The glow of her henshin cascaded off the walls of his bedroom. His jaw slackened as she twirled naked, each piece slowly sparkling into existence. When she struck her signature pose he scrambled to put on his discarded clothing.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready.”

“Okay. I’ll let you carry me for a bit.”

“No,” he said. “Just follow me.” He led her to the balcony; together they leapt across the rooftops until they reached the site of the battle. With a deep breath each got into their typical positions.

“Standing for love and justice, I am the beautiful sailor-suited Senshi, Sailor Moon! In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”

The youma began shooting various projectiles which Sailor Moon attempted to dodge, until one was headed straight for her. She froze before she was picked up by her savior, and off they sailed to a safe position. She trembled as he slowly lowered her onto her feet. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly. She saw his eyes darken with desire.

“Hit it now, Sailor Moon!”

“Right!” She pulled off her tiara while Tuxedo Kamen put his hands on her shoulders behind her. Sailor Moon bit her lower lip as she concentrated on throwing the tiara accurately. The youma disintegrated. No sooner was the youma destroyed did Tuxedo Kamen pick Sailor Moon up bridal style and leap away, ignoring the outraged shouts of the other Senshi. She was shocked he was so brazen as to abscond with her right in front of magic-wielding girls, one of whom had a tracking device.

“Let me go,” she urged him. “They’ll find us.”

“I don’t care,” he said, his voice cracking. “I need to talk to you. I can’t wait. I can’t have you running from me either.”

“I won’t run. But you have to let me go for now. I’ll come to you tomorrow night?”

“I don’t care if they find us. I'll accept the consequences.”

“What?” She could hardly believe her ears. “I’m begging you. We can forget this night. We can go on as we were.”

He scowled. Soon he was leaping onto his balcony, and back they were in the room where they had just left in a hurry. She let her henshin drop. He turned on the lights. She blinked away the darkness. He approached her slowly, until he was towering over her. Her head tilted back to meet his gaze.

“Are you mad?” she said fearfully.

“Mad? No. Shocked, yes. But remember, I was the one who approached you. I’m not mad you kept this secret from me.”

“I’m surprised,” she breathed.

“I told you it’d be a one time thing. You did nothing to get me to betray my identity. Now you’ve given away yours, while still not knowing who I am. You’re vulnerable. It’s my fault.”

“I trust you,” she said brokenly. “I’ve told you for years now. I know you’re not our enemy. I know you won’t hurt me.”

A moment passed. “You’re right,” he said hoarsely, “I won’t hurt you - especially not now.” He swallowed. “I have loved-”

The sound of the balcony door being flung open caught their attention. Three very enraged Senshi filed into the room.

“How dare you take our leader!” Sailor Jupiter growled.

“We’re going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget,” Sailor Mars hissed.

“Let’s hope your healing will be enough to repair the damage you’re about to receive,” Sailor Mercury murmured. The others sweatdropped. “I don’t condone murder,” she added defensively.

Usagi leapt into Tuxedo Kamen’s arms, placing herself between him and her Senshi. “Back down,” she commanded.

“Why are you not henshinned?” Sailor Mars asked in outrage.

“Your identity has been exposed!” Sailor Mercury exclaimed.

“Yes, it has,” she said shortly.

“Baka,” Sailor Mars spat.

“I need you three to leave,” Usagi insisted. “Three’s company and all that.”

“I’ll figure out whose apartment this is,” Sailor Mercury said darkly. “We will be back.” With that ominous threat, the three left the way they came.

Chapter 5

Usagi sagged with relief, pulling herself out of her hero’s arms. “I warned you,” she said frantically. “It’s time for you to move! You can’t stay here.”

“It’s too late for that,” he said gently.

“This is all my fault. Now you’re in danger and I don’t know how to protect you-”

“I can protect myself, Usa.”

“I can’t always be around, and it’d be three to one - terrible odds - they’d murder you!”

“Sailor Mercury said she wouldn’t.”

“She might help it along anyway!”

“There’s only one thing for me to do.”

“What?”

“Let them have their way.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. And why?! This is all so stupid!”

“I love you, Usagi.”

She froze. “You love me?”

“Yes. So I’ll take any retribution your Senshi want to deliver.”

She was stunned. “What about the nijizuishou?” she asked, as that was precisely what was in the way of their being together.

“I…I don’t know,” he choked out.

She nodded past the lump in her throat. “I’ve loved you for years now,” she said quietly, ignoring his sharp intake of breath, “but I’ve always thought you were unattainable. The girls would never let me date you, and you always say you’re our enemy. But no matter what, I will do what I can to protect you. I’m also glad you found me tonight. I was really upset, and you saved me - again. I’m stunned that you love my civilian self. I won’t stop wondering who you are - although it will come out in the open eventually.”

“I know,” he said thickly.

A moment passed.

“I don’t want to leave you," she whispered achingly.

His fists clenched. “I don’t want you to leave either,” he whispered, echoing the words he’d uttered earlier in the evening. “Stay.”

Chapter 6

“You’d let me?”

“Yes. I want to pleasure you in all ways that I can.”

She shuddered. She’d already committed to a one-night stand. She might as well follow through with it. “Okay. My mother already thinks I’m spending the night elsewhere, so I’ll spend the night with you until you tell me to leave.”

He closed his eyes shut and nodded jerkily, as if the idea of her leaving, even in the morning, was abhorrent to him. “Why don’t you hate me for not telling you who I am?” he asked.

She smiled softly at him. “I could never hate you. I don’t hate anyone.”

“What about Chiba Mamoru?”

She started. “Oh, you’ve seen some of our fights?” He nodded stiffly. “We have a unique relationship,” she mused. “In a way, I find our fights relieve a lot of my stress. They’re fun - kind of. I strangely look forward to them.”

“I see. Do you consider him a friend?”

“I do,” she said resolutely, “although I’d be the last to admit it to him. It’d spoil the fun, you see.”

His eyes glinted behind the mask. “Fights are fun?”

“Those fights, yes. Youma battles…” She grimaced. “Not so fun.”

“Let’s not talk about youma,” he murmured as he stepped closer to her.

She breathed in shakily. “Agreed.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

Their lips met, but tentatively this time. He kissed her reverently, as if he felt he wasn’t allowed to kiss her. It was such a stark contrast to his earlier kisses that she pulled back with a frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are you holding back?”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“That you’ll hate me when you find out who I am.”

“Well, since I’m going to find out anyway - do you want to just get it over with? I promise nothing will stop me from getting it on with you.”

He let out a small smile. Then, as if he was facing a youma in battle, he squared his shoulders, straightened up, and let his henshin fall. She gasped as she saw the visage of Chiba Mamoru. Then she smiled broadly. “No wonder you asked, baka,” she said, shaking her head. "Sneaky, too, to get me to admit my feelings about you."

“Will you still have me?”

“For tonight, absolutely.”

“You’re sure?”

“To be honest, I’m glad it’s you,” she said, and she meant it. She dropped her henshin, then rushed him, putting her hands on his chest, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He met her halfway with a moan. Once again their mouths and breaths were mingling, their tongues swirling around and around. Clothing came off in a rush, strewn everywhere, until she was lying on his carpet, taking him inside her. He cried as he fucked her. Her eyes were wide as she took in the sight, her hands reaching up to cradle his face. “It’s going to be okay,” she said in-between thrusts. “I’m here for you.” As his seed poured into her, and he collapsed onto her once more, sweat drenching his body, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him there, nuzzled in-between her neck and collarbone. “I still love you,” she whispered; he whimpered in response.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured into her neck.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m still your enemy. I still have the nijizuishou.”

“No, you’re not. To be honest, I think we’re fighting for the same thing. But I can’t reveal my secrets any more than you can reveal yours.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to think about this. I don’t want to think.”

“You, not wanting to think?” Usagi teased. “Has hell warmed over?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “I just want to fuck you until I can’t think anymore.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked breathlessly.

He let out a deep sigh, pulling himself together. Then he looked at her. “Are you hungry?”

She blinked. “Hungry for your cock.”

He shuddered. “No, I mean really hungry. I need a snack. I have some pie if you want?”

“Wow! Yes, please!” she said. He pulled out two pies, two forks, and a knife. They sat unashamedly naked upon his kitchen chairs. "What kind are they?”

“Peach pies. I thought they would be a good dessert.”

“Mhmm,” she said as she wolfed down her piece. “More?” she asked with shining eyes.

He smirked at her. “The quintessential Odango Atama.”

“Hey! What happened to Usagi!”

“I couldn’t give away my identity now, could I?”

“Jerk,” she muttered as he placed another slice before her. Her eyes lit up as once again she was filling her mouth with peaches and crust. “So good! Where’d you get them?”

“There’s a bakery in Roppongi.”

“I will have to check it out sometime.”

“We’ll go together.”

“Will we?” she asked, her heart twisting painfully.

He looked at her forlorn expression and his face fell. “No, I suppose once the others find out who I am I won’t be seeing you anymore.”

Usagi began to cry. “It’s not fair,” she wailed. “It’s just not fair.”

“I’ll see you at battles.”

“That’s not enough!”

“We can’t be together,” he reminded her. “We only have this night; let’s make it count.” He cleared table, then abruptly he was laying her on top of it amidst her shrieks. He inched her so that her ass was slightly hanging over the edge of the table, and her legs were spread wide.

She stared bewildered as he brought the pie back. When he started scooping the pie onto her chest she sputtered, “That’s just going to make me sticky!”

“We can shower afterwards.”

She gulped at the mention of the word “we” - he was intending on showering with her. She bit back a moan at the imagery those thoughts dredged up. Her thoughts were subsumed by his mouth and tongue licking up the peach sauce and nibbling the peach pieces. He slurped the peaches as he went, then took time to lick at her nipples while still savoring the peaches. She felt like she was a dessert - his dessert. “Eat me,” she said breathlessly. He chuckled against her skin.

“I will,” he promised. “I’m still having my snack.” His tongue made a trail down to her belly button and back up again. One of his hands went to her clit, gently massaging it again. She bucked against his hand. “Hold on,” he said, “I’m preparing my first course.” Her brows furrowed in confusion until she saw him lick his lips thoroughly, right before he knelt in front of her and went down on her, tasting her again, but now in the light where they could watch one another. He hummed as he disconnected from her clit and looked up at her. “You taste better than peaches,” he murmured, “but let’s double-check the main course.” He was at her entrance, thrusting his tongue inside repeatedly.

“Please don’t stop, please -” and she gasped as she came on his tongue.

He withdrew, making a show of smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Definitely better than peaches,” he said. “And as I said earlier, delicious.”

“Such dirty talk.”

He grinned devilishly. “ You were the one who asked me to eat you.”

“You started it!”

“You begged for it!”

“You - you -”

“You know what else is going to eat you? My cock.” Before she could react, he thrust into her full tilt, then began to slide in and out.

“Faster!”

“My cock is savoring its meal, thank you very much,” he told her.

She began twitching. “You’re torturing me!”

“Is that anything new?”

“Jerk -” she stopped to cry out in pleasure.

“Yes, Mamoru-baka is deep inside of you,” he purred, “and you’re enjoying it.”

“What’s it like being inside me?”

He groaned. “Tight, warm. Heaven.”

He started rocking into her, finally, the movement causing the table to creak in response. She felt the grain of the wood lightly rub her skin as she was moved horizontally back and forth in time with his thrusts. His thumb made circles on her already swollen clit. They both cried out at the same time, each reaching their peak. When they caught their breath, Mamoru drew out of her.

“Now what?” she panted, staring up at him languorously.

“Now we shower, of course.”

“Together?”

“I hear it’s more fun that way,” he purred.

“Okay,” she said shakily, “lead the way.”

Chapter 7

Her legs were so wobbly that she would have collapsed if it wasn’t for him catching her. He picked her up bridal style and strode to the shower. He held her back pressed against his front, her front facing the shower head. She had her hands wrapped around his neck while he soaped up the loofah. The warm water relaxed her. He was soaping up her chest first, painstakingly getting rid of the peach pie remnants. Then he was washing her everywhere, including the outside of her folds. His soap’s scent cloyed to her skin; she reveled in it. Once he was finished, she shakily turned around and took the loofah from him. It was her turn to wash him everywhere, including his scrotum and penis. He had to crouch for her to reach his neck and shoulder area. It was very soothing, much unlike what she had expected the shower to be. He reached over her to turn the shower off, then carefully stepped out, drying himself quickly before grabbing her towel and drying her next. He was so gentle, patting the drops glistening from her skin until they disappeared. Her heart fluttered at the sight.

He sat her in the living room clad only in a towel. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Okay?”

He headed back to the hallway, opening a closet door. Then he was moving around in the bedroom. Finally he was by her side. “Okay, we’re good.”

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I changed the sheets, so we can romp around in fresh linens. The other ones were full of sweat and cum.”

“Oh,” she said dumbly. He was so thoughtful, so considerate! “I’m excited to get them dirty,” she said mischievously. He grinned devilishly at her then scooped her up again. “I think you like holding me.”

“Count how often I ‘held’ you when you bowled me over on your way to school and you’ll have your answer.”

She gaped at him. “All those times?” she stuttered.

“Yep!” he said nonchalantly before setting her on her feet in his room. He unwrapped her towel, discarding it, before he turned her around and lay her on her stomach, on top of…more towels?

“What’s this?” she questioned as he gently placed each of her slightly damp hair streamers off to the side.

“Relax. I’m going to massage you,” he said, holding up a bottle of sesame oil. He went to work warming up the oil with his hands before bracing his legs on either side of hers, his dick lightly resting on the juncture between her butt-cheeks, making her hiss at the gentle contact. His hands were rubbing her all over from her neck to her shoulders to around her spine and around, spreading the oil everywhere. Then he began kneading her neck and her shoulders, making firm circles into her flesh, as she sighed in contentment. His circles gradually moved lower, until he was shifting backward to get at the muscles connecting her back and her butt.

“This is heavenly,” she moaned. “I’ll let you win every argument from now on if you do this for me.”

He let out a little chuckle. “I’d have no fun if I always won, Odango Atama,” he said, although his tone was slightly sad. Usagi knew he feared they wouldn’t have any arguments in the near future.

“I won’t let this happen,” she said fiercely. “I’m not giving you up.”

His fingers flexed against her back reflexively. “Can you really promise that?” he murmured. “Not when we have different agendas?”

“I don’t care!” she wailed. “I don’t care about having agendas and secrets and strategies and having to fight all the time. I want to follow my heart, and my heart leads to you.”

“Then why did you ask out Motoki-kun?”

“BECAUSE HE WAS THE SAFE OPTION! You weren’t going to fall for Sailor Moon!”

“You could have fallen for Mamoru, as I did Usagi,” he said, his voice cracking.

“You've pointed out my flaws many times, and even mentioned how you don’t think of me as dating material. I gave up before I even began. I considered going out with Mamoru as being infinitely more unattainable than going out with Tuxedo Kamen.”

He continued massaging her in silence as the two of them realized they shouldn’t be arguing during a massage session, of all things.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I’m sorry I didn’t give Mamoru a chance before now.”

“You accept me,” he said, as if trying to convince himself.

“Yes, I accept and love you as you are in both forms. I won’t give you up!”

“You can’t have it both ways,” he said as he began massaging her butt.

“I really want to tell you.”

“I won’t force you,” he said gently. “You know that, right?”

“I…do,” she said, moaning as his hands kept gliding across her bare bottom. “You like me,” she said in wonder.

“Yes, I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“Sailor Moon?”

“I have always been drawn to Sailor Moon. But I didn’t believe pursuing a relationship with you would be advisable.”

“Logical to the end.”

He flipped her over then began gently massaging her collarbone then across her entire chest, paying careful attention to the globes of her breasts. She was a mindless mess for a while, thoroughly lost in the sensations.

His hands moved to her torso, and her mind came back enough to say, “I’m sorry you ended up falling in love with Sailor Moon.”

He inhaled sharply. “I don’t regret falling in love with you, Usagi.”

“But don’t you wish I was just simply Usagi, and not Sailor Moon also? Wouldn’t it have made things easier for you?”

“Remember, if you were simply Usagi I would stay away from you for your own protection. Tonight is an exception to that rule.”

“So you argue with me just to have me around.” she said.

“Yes.”

“And have fun.”

“Of course. I imagine a lot of things when you’re yelling at me - sounds that I’ve heard a lot tonight.”

She blushed. “You thought of sex during our arguments? And you kept this secret from me?”

He smiled seductively at her. “That’s the beauty of a secret, Odango. It allows for all kinds of naughty thoughts and emotions even while one is engaged in ‘friendly’ banter.”

She thought back to all the things he’d said over the last couple of years, realizing with a start that there were several double entendres said that she’d been oblivious to because she’d been so certain he didn’t want her in that way. “I’ve been so blind,” she groaned.

“It wouldn’t have ended well anyway,” he said.

Her heart panged. She was so sure the Senshi and he are on the same side, but she couldn’t talk without betraying her friends and Luna - not to mention, their princess. "Why?" she whispered.

"Hm?"

"Why is tonight an exception?"

"I acted impulsively. Motoki told me what happened. I told myself I was going after you to make sure you were okay. I was also feeling jealous and desperate."

Mamoru, jealous? Mamoru, desperate? It was almost as incredible as him loving her. Warmth swept through her, combining itself pleasantly with the sensations he was causing with his skillful hands.

Once he finished massaging her limbs he said with satisfaction, “There. Are you feeling relaxed enough?”

“Mhmmmm.”

“Good. Would you be okay with anal sex?”

She sat up abruptly, wide awake. “What?”

“You can say no if you want to,” he said.

“I don’t think I can take you,” she said, staring at his dick askance.

He thought for a minute. “No, probably not. I’d rather get a toy for that…”

A toy they wouldn’t need if they wouldn’t be together. Usagi had been too reminded of their situation. “Mine!” she growled as she tackled him, taking him by surprise. Her teeth grazed his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, his chest, his nipples. She sucked one into her mouth, reveling in his cries of pleasure, her teeth gently nipping. She then sucked and nipped the other one. Her fingers left scratch marks in their wake. She barely knew what she was doing, other than to caution herself not to bite too hard, as she left light teeth marks on both arms. She stopped short of going below his waist, then hauled herself up and took his face with her hands. “MINE!” she shouted desperately, lightly shaking his face. “Don’t keep yourself from me, please!” Her voice broke.

“Usa-”

“No! No more! You are mine!” and she scooted backwards, lifting herself, then impaling herself onto his dick. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as she bounced on her heels, bobbing up and down. “Mine!” she said again. “I don’t care if the whole world burns down-”

“You should,” he got out. “You’re supposed to save the world.”

“I…want…you,” she babbled uncaringly. “I will protect you. I will move in with you-”

“Move in with me?!” She didn’t answer. She sped up instead, until they were both reaching their peak.

“You can’t move in with me,” he said with finality after they calmed down. “You are still in high school. Your Senshi would never allow it.”

Her anger melted away to tears. She got off of him planting herself face down next to him. “But it’d be perfect,” she cried. “We could live together and you can have your agenda and I can have mine and we can pretend that none of this Dark Kingdom stuff exists when we are just Mamoru and Usagi.”

He reached over to rub her soothingly. “Your Senshi would never let you forget,” he said. He reached over to get more sesame oil which he proceeded to use just to rub her back. She calmed down, the tears dissipating, and then the touches turned to tingles. She shuddered. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“There’s another position I’d like to try,” he whispered. “Are you up for it? I promise you won’t have to do much physically.”

“Okay.” He was stroking himself hard again. She realized something. “How are you still able to have sex?”

“Hm? Oh, my recovery time? Someone’s been paying attention in biology class for a change.”

“Jerk.”

“I think it’s gotta do with my superhero powers. At least I can keep up with the women who can experience multiple orgasms - as you seem to.”

“Due to my powers?”

“Maybe,” he said seductively. He leaned over her, giving her a sound kiss to the ridge of her ear while she shuddered. “May I have this?” he asked, indicating the pillow. “Let me put this here…there we go.” It now lay beneath her stomach. “Like I said, I don’t want you to have to stress too much physically.”

“Oh!” she cried out as he slid into her from behind. The position hit her in a very sensitive area. His balls slapped against her lower lips as he thrust. Overall it was a very sensual experience. “Why didn’t we start with this?” He went hard and fast. “Ohhhhhh.” Then she was exploding very prettily all over him and soon after he joined her.

“Do you want another shower?”

“I guess.” She was really tired, but she was also feeling really oily.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Chapter 8

He placed her in the tub this time, thoroughly removing all the excess oil, the sweat, their bodily fluids, leaving her refreshingly clean and embraced by his scent once again. He left her briefly to arrange the bed by removing the towels and changing out the pillowcase. He got a fresh fluffy towel for her, patting her dry, then carried her back into his bed.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He said nothing, placing her on the bed before pulling the sheets and blankets over her. She was barely awake when he came back from his shower, all remnants of their fun washed away. “Mamoru, I-”

“Shhhh. Just sleep. I’ll be right here.” He spooned her, his warmth enveloping her. She went promptly to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!”

Usagi and Mamoru jolted awake, confronted with the gaping faces of the Senshi, one of whom was holding a very furious Luna.

“Luna!” Usagi exclaimed.

“Usagi!” Luna shot back. “What have you been up to?”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Usagi said angrily. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean you should…”

“Have sex?” Sailor Jupiter interjected helpfully.

“With Tuxedo Kamen?!” Sailor Mars added furiously.

“Don’t bother denying it,” Sailor Mercury forewarned.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with me?” When Mamoru looked at her in bewilderment, Usagi clarified, “Come south of the border with me.”

“We’re surrounded by the ocean, Odango,” he said, facepalming.

“Hello?” Sailor Mars waved her arms to get their attention.

“We’ve come to talk,” Luna said sharply. “We’ll be in the main area. You two better come out with some clothes on.” They trailed out.

Usagi was left panicking. “What are they going to do? What are they going to say? Oh, no - what am I going to wear?”

“I have your clothes folded over here.”

“I can’t reuse clothes like that. Not for this. Oh I know.” She pulled out her pen. “Moon Power, change me into a cutely dressed Usagi!” Once the blinding light cleared, she smiled satisfactorily at her outfit. Her top was pink and sparkling, with her sleeves flaring out from elbows down to billow at her wrists. It was paired with a beige mini skirt and lacy white tights.

Usagi whirled to finding Mamoru giving her a lustful gaze as he slowly put his clothes on. She nearly drooled as she watched him move his biceps and forearms, his broad, muscular chest. He was beautiful.

“Shall we?” he asked huskily before clearing his throat.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. She cleared her throat. They needed to keep it together now, with an inquisition and more hanging over their heads.

Sailor Mercury was sitting on the couch with Sailor Mars, while Sailor Jupiter had pulled up a chair from the kitchen. Unless they got the chairs from the kitchen, there was nowhere for them to sit except on the floor, where they would be vulnerable to any attacks. Wordlessly, Mamoru sat on the ground, and Usagi followed him.

“Chiba Mamoru,” Luna said, “we know you. We’ve gotten to know you well over the past four years. The girls consider you a friend. I find you sensible as well.” She ignored Usagi’s raised eyebrow at the backhanded insult. “To find that you of all people is Tuxedo Kamen is very surprising. Someone we thought of as strictly an enemy is in another way our friend.

'That being said, this mission to retrieve the Ginzuishou is of utmost importance. It is one of the most serious tasks we have as the Sailor Senshi. Without knowing something of what your agenda is, an alliance just won’t work.”

Mamoru took a moment to speak. “Yes, I agree with you on how surprising all of this is. When I went to Usagi, I had no idea she was Sailor Moon until she was summoned to the battle. Before you go blaming her,” he added, glaring at Sailor Mars who was about to yell at the Senshi of the Moon, “I cornered her and left her no choice. I wasn’t going to let a young woman roam the streets of Azabujuban alone at night. I also was the one who kidnapped her in the first place.”

“Twice?!” Luna yowled. “And you didn’t think to fight back even once?”

“No, Luna,” Usag said, tears clogging her throat. “I didn’t. I never will.”

That hung in the air between them. “You’ve made your choice then?” Luna asked.

“Choice?”

“You choose him over the mission.”

She had been saying that last night, right? But in the light of day, faced with her fellow Senshi and her guardian, she hesitated, and was on the verge of tears. “I can’t choose,” she said. “Please don’t make me.”

“We can’t divulge our mission, so it’ll be up to him to decide for you.”

Usagi cast pleading eyes over to Mamoru’s closed expression. “Please? I really think we are on the same side.”

His jaw and fists clenched. His head tilted backwards as he screwed his eyes shut. “I can’t divulge my mission either,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Why does it have to be this way?!” Usagi demanded. “We’re all friends already in some way. We can be civil! We can work together to achieve everyone’s goals! We have to stop being suspicious of each other and put faith into our hearts! We have been fighting the Dark Kingdom for four years now. It’s time to set aside our differences and become a stronger team against them.”

“You know what hangs in the balance,” Sailor Mercury reminded her.

“I think he would be a great help to our cause. I have no reason to think he’d renege on any deal we make.”

“But what about his cause? We can’t blindly agree to let him have the Ginzuishou for nefarious purposes,” Luna said.

“I am very certain that that won’t be the case. What about you girls? Do you think Mamoru would choose evil, after everything we’ve known about him for so long?”

The girls were staring at her in stunned silence, likely because she had never given a speech like this, not even as Sailor Moon. Even Luna looked lost in thought.

“I agree with Usagi,” Sailor Mars said quietly.

“I do, too,” Sailor Jupiter chimed in.

“It’s well reasoned,” Sailor Mercury agreed. “As Luna has intimated, we do have extensive knowledge of his character.”

Luna sighed. She was the least familiar with Mamoru out of all of them - cats weren’t exactly allowed in the arcade. “Fine,” she said. This was the girls’ cue to drop their henshins. Mamoru only jumped a little when faced with the identities of the three Senshi, then shook himself.

“Yes, you know all of the Senshi,” Usagi whispered to him. He stiffly nodded.

Luna coughed to get their attention. “My memory is only of bits and pieces, but I will do the best I can to explain what I know. This story began one thousand years ago. All of the planets and the Earth’s moon supported life. The moon reigned in what was called the Silver Millenium. All of the planets except Earth were a part of the Silver Millenium. I don’t know why Earth wasn’t involved. Darkness came to the moon and destroyed the Silver Millenium. The moon’s queen used the rest of her energy to send us all, including the Dark Kingdom, to reincarnate into the distant future. The queen did so by using the Ginzuishou. The Ginzuishou, once remade, belongs to the queen’s heir - the Moon Princess.”

“Princess,” Mamoru repeated, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“She and the Ginzuishou are our responsibility to protect. She is who hangs in the balance. If you harm her in any way we’ll not hesitate to kill you.”

“LUNA!” Usagi shouted indignantly. “How could you say such a thing?!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mamoru got out as he locked eyes with the feline. “I am getting the Ginzuishou for the princess as well.”

“I don’t recall there being a male protector,” Luna said puzzledly.

“I don’t know. All I know is she keeps appearing in my dreams, begging for the Ginzuishou.”

“So we’re after the same thing after all,” Ami said in wonder.

“I TOLD YOU GUYS! I so told you. Why didn’t you listen to me sooner?!”

“Are you able to give us a description so we know what to look for?” Makoto asked.

He shook his head. “Her actual features are blurry.”

“Sooooo, now that we have this all cleared up, I would like you girls to leave.”

“Again?!” the girls chorused.

“What are you going to do - jump him?” Makoto teased her.

Usagi surprised them all by saying, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Then I’m going to plan my moving into this apartment so I can do it again and again!”

“No you’re not!” Luna sputtered.

“I’m eighteen now, so yes I can.”

“Odango…”

“No! You’re mine! I love you and I want the world to know it.” She leapt into his arms and started kissing his neck savagely, leaving hickeys.

“I guess we’ll leave you to it,” Rei said slowly as she grabbed the hissing cat and followed the other two out the front door to the apartment.

“You are incorrigible,” Mamoru said breathlessly.

“But you’re turned on by it,” Usagi said confidently.

“You’re right…but we need to talk about this moving in stuff later.”

“After I eat you, you mean?”

“After we eat each other - at the same time. You’ll lie on top of me so that I lick your clit while you suck on me.”

“That sounds so hot,” Usagi moaned, her new clothes getting drenched with her juices.

“Yes, my little Odango - because it is hot.”

She reversed her transformation; she was naked once more. He disrobed as well before lying down. He beckoned her forward. She sat on his chest then inched herself backwards until his tongue was tracing her clit. She shuddered with pleasure for a moment, then forced herself to focus on the bulging cock standing at attention in front of her, his legs having bent up to inch closer to her. She took him in his mouth, trying to get a rhythm going by stretching herself a bit. Two of his fingers entered her. They both gave and took, their moans being ones of approval, of lust, and of love. They came together explosively. Then she was rotating around and curling herself into his side.

“What do I taste like?” he whispered.

“Delicious,” she answered as she smacked her lips.

“Can I have some?” he asked curiously.

“I ate it all. Maybe next time.”

He barked a short laugh then held her closer to his side.

“I’ll tell you this much,” she added with a wink, “you taste better than peaches.”

The End

Notes:

I started this as a one-shot. I really did. Then I got excited by the prompts and it just kept coming and coming (pun intended). This was my first try at Marathon Sex. I hope you enjoyed!

#smquickies2023 #aged up characters #pretty guardian sailor moon #sailor moon fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

amugoffandoms · 11 months ago

Note

Could you do a director's commentary on "Are You In There" from Whumptober?

Heyo, kyanako! I'd be down to! Lemme pull up the fic and I'll be pulling out passages that I remember small details from. So, here we go! Mug's Director Commentary!!

First of all, the title "You in There?" That's basically the Whumptober prompt as its name, but the exact phrase is not used that often in the fic because I didn't feel like Muu would use that exact phrase? At least, she says something else on her birthday, so I decided to just reword the question multiple times.

Ever since the Warden’s second interrogation, she was starting to feel on edge about everything. So, her sleep wasn’t the best. She can probably deal with it eventually, though. It’s not a big deal. She’s going to get forgiven again, anyway. They know it’s not Muu’s fault.

There's no specific time when this beginning scene occurs, but I have a feeling it's a few days after Muu's voting ends. I'd like to think all of the prisoners hear the Voices, so Muu is kind of just actively denying them because she can't be wrong.

”You have to eat, Haruka.” “Aah… I… I guess I do…” “…You have to come out of your room to eat.” “…!! Yes, yes… Um… I can’t do that.”

I wanted Haruka to still lean into what Muu wants because she shows him attention, but then suddenly realize he has to keep his promise first. His promise is the most important thing right now.

...also, it's kinda funny to see the quick switch back and forth.

Mikoto stands in the kitchen area, staring at something. Muu starts slowing down and looking away. Mikoto is a very nice guy, but ever since the end of trial one, he’s gotten a little scary…

I don't actually recall if Muu ever said this, but considering her reaction to Kotoko in trial 1, I kinda think she'd have a similar reaction to Mikoto in Trial 2.

As she turns away from Mikoto, he calls out to Muu one last time. “Hey, tell Haru I hope he’s alright. I’m glad he’s all confident now, but he seems upset now… Or something.” “I will.” ”Thanks.” When Muu makes it back to Haruka’s cell, she can barely hear Haruka inside. “…they forgave me. They forgave me.” “Haruka! I brought you some food.” Muu calls out. “…o-oh! Thank you, Muu.” Something inside Haruka’s cell moves around, probably Haruka before the door slowly opens to half of Haruka’s face. “Y-you can leave it there…” ”Can we talk in your cell today, then?” “Oh… um… I guess so.” Haruka fully opens his door and Muu finally can talk to someone who listens.

OOOH boy, here's a long one. breaking it down time we ball!!

I feel like, despite pulling away from the group a little out of fear of himself, Mikoto would still notice a few things, especially Haruka changing so much. Plus, I'm pretty sure he's noticed Haruka change even before Trial 2. He's noticed Haruka pulling away, too.

We never actually see Muu tell Haruka that Mikoto hopes he's alright, but I'd like to imagine during their conversation she does. (Not because I forgot that Mikoto had just done that. Definitely not.)

I enjoyed throwing Haruka murmuring that he was forgiven in because I thought it would be nice to include his thoughts on his verdict as well. He cares about Muu's, but he also cares about his because Es affirmed him, right? They said he was good and forgiven. So, why did they take it back? He was right, right? RIGHT??

oops sorry writer mug came in there (that may happen a lot, I like explaining my fics by accidentally writing more in character stuff), anyways.

Once again, going back to Haruka leaning into what Muu wants. He thinks that maybe it's not time just yet, that he has a little longer to think.

“You haven’t left your room in a few days, Haruka… It’s not healthy to be inside all day.”

This sentence implies she's been doing what she was doing in the previous scene every day now. Also kinda funny considering they're inside a prison, but she's telling him that's it's not healthy to be inside all day. I know what I meant inside his room, but STILL!!

Also, side note, i really enjoyed this next passage, so yeah :D!

Yuno sighs. “Fine, then. Even if Haruka clearly wants to be alone, do whatever you want.” “Muu is at least trying to be friends with Haruka. You stopped trying to be friends with anyone after the first trial verdicts were revealed! Can’t you be happy you were forgiven by the Warden?” “Forgiving everyone basically ruined the fun atmosphere here, so I’m upset. The Warden can do whatever they want, but what they’ve done has caused MILGRAM to be entirely bothersome. I don’t want to bother with any of it.” ”Upset? Bothersome? What are you even talking about? Does it even matter if MILGRAM is bothersome? You were forgiven, can’t you relax and enjoy it?”

Yuno's first line is kinda just a reference back to how she has opinions but doesn't act on them that often. She believes that Haruka should be left alone, but if Muu wants to do whatever, then so be it. It's all up to her.

Muu kinda makes a good point here where Yuno pulled away, but it's because of what happened after them. (Which is what Yuno mentions next.) (Also, "forgiving everyone" was an odd term to use here, I think it would've been better to say "Judging everyone," but "Forgiving" works considering how most people acted because they were voted FORGIVEN...

Muu wants to enjoy her... um, past forgiveness, I guess. It's because in that moment, it solidified the fact that she was right. That she was never in the wrong and it could never be her fault, right? So, she's finally able to relax. No one's out there actively trying to hurt her. (Actively look away from Muu's verdict please PLEAS)

“It does matter when people almost died because of MILGRAM! Why are you acting like what happened to Fuuta, Mahiru, and Mikoto never happened? Because it did!” ”What does that have to do with Muu? They deserved it after all.” Yuno stares at Muu. “What the fuck do you mean they deserved—”

OHH I needed this scene emotionally actually JAIODJOWIA I really wanted Muu and Yuno to fight, especially over this because they definitely have differing views on this. Yuno talks to Mahiru, who was severely impacted by Kotoko's attacks. She even mentions in her second voice drama that Kotoko is the type of person to make an assumption and not go beyond that.

On the other hand, Muu mentions that Kotoko's attacks were sorta deserved because Es did not forgive them.

so. woo D:!

”P-please stop f-fighting…!” Haruka squeaks out. Yuno and Muu quickly turn to Haruka standing in front of his cell door. “I-I know it’s my fault for not leaving m-my cell, so… it’s okay… Yuno, um… I’ll walk with Muu. I love walking with her.” “See! It was a good thing Muu didn’t leave Haruka alone!” Muu grins. Yuno stares blankly at the two before shaking her head and walking to her cell. “Oh, and, Muu… Just to let you know…” ”Eh, what does Yuno want?” “The Warden said the forgiveness was temporary.” With a chill going down Muu’s spine, Yuno enters her cell without another word. Glancing at Haruka, they both already realize they knew that.

Looking back at this, I sometimes have like a fifty-fifty opinion on Haruka's lines, but I think they kinda work. (I don't remember if he's ever broken up a fight as well, so this could be a first for him and he doesn't want to mess up. Not after everyone thought he was being so good.) He wants them to stop fighting about him. He appreciates the attention, but he doesn't want to be the source of someone else's torment again. He blames himself because that's all he's ever known.

Also, I really wanted to drop that "Forgiveness is temporary line" because 1) It's coming from Yuno, who believes she can't even be seen as something other than forgiven and 2) it's towards the two prisoners who lost their forgiveness. That line drills in the fact that they weren't forgiven again. And, it's terrifying.

"Haruka?” Muu knocks on the cell door. There is no response. “I brought you some food.” Muu holds the food up higher as if he would see it through the door. “Are you alive?” There is no response. She’s… starting to get scared now. "You haven't grown mold or anything?” Muu tries joking. There is no— Haruka’s cell door slowly opens with Haruka looking at the food and Muu. Haruka looks down. ”.....Oh, thank you very much. Muu, I'm sorry, that ..... I..” Muu shakes her head. ”Don't shut yourself up in that cell forever! You have to eat properly too, you know? I understand if you feel this way though, the recent atmosphere has been feeling bad lately.” "Um, I said it's okay..... I, thought of what I should do, a little.” Haruka mumbles.

You might recognize this! It's because it's Haruka's birthday timeline from a while back!! I really wanted to include it because this fic is very much based around Haruka pulling away to fulfill his promise and Muu checking in every time.

This is when anaphora my beloved comes in and I begin to repeat the phrase "There is no response." more often :D. You could actually see it in the last scene, too!!

“Thought about what you should do…?” Muu blinks before slowly nodding. “…oh, Muu remembers.” “…I’m glad.” He smiles. “…” Muu exhales. “I think that you should… do what you want to do, Haruka.” “E-eh… What does that mean…?” "I'm... worried, that's all." Haruka looks up at Muu, who, even if she still seems confident, has a bit of fear behind her confidence. “Muu, you… you don’t have to worry… I’m just thinking about what to do, for you, right…?” Haruka smiles. “Y…yeah. Okay. Yeah.” Muu exhales before giving him a small smile, which he returns. She hands over some food which he takes with a nod. “Muu hopes she sees Haruka next time she drops off the food.” “…yeah.” Haruka nods. Muu looks around before finally leaving. “What do I do, what do I do, to keep... My promise. For Muu’s sake....”

I believe this is the only time I write in Haruka's POV? I kinda wanted to have a small glimpse into Haruka's side, but not too much considering this is a Muu-POV fic!

Here's also where I branch off from the original timeline but go right back to it. I really wanted for them to have a conversation about Haruka's promise. Although Muu seemed pretty nonchalant about what Haruka's promise was in Queen B, she also believes that friends are people who let you do what you want because they listen to you. She cares for Haruka. If she didn't, she wouldn't have done everything she's done for him. She's worried, and she doesn't want him to go through with it because she can't lose another friend, another person who listened to her because who else would?

“Are you there? Are you alive?” She tries joking. It worked a couple of times before, but this time, no response. Muu swallows; her fear is slowly rising. “You have to come out… It’s… bad for you! And, you have to eat, too!” Muu knocks on the door a little longer this time. She places the dish on the ground as she knocks even more. No response. “Haruka! Please!” Muu screams at the door. “Muu— I miss talking to you. I miss talking to someone. The atmosphere has been feeling so bad lately and… I’m scared— Please. Just— Just come out this one time…! Or, write something to me and slip it under the door! Please!” No response.

Oh, here comes hell (and my friend anaphora!). Alright, so this is when Muu really shows how terrified of losing friends again. Last time that happened, she was left to deal with the bullying of everyone and she can't do that again.

She tries joking because that's what she believes will work first. Then, sorta telling him that he has to come out because it's not healthy because it worked last time.

Then, she loses it because she's terrified. She can't let this happen again.

She even stops using "Muu" (which, although I don't use it often when writing for Muu, it's an intentional switch). She just needs someone.

“Haruka!” Muu places her head against the door and begins banging the door with her hand. “…please, please…!” No response.

This is a reference to her After Pain scene where she's banging from the inside of the hourglass. She's begging. She's back to where she once was and she can't have that; she can't have that.

“I’m begging you. Please— Please just leave your cell! I’m scared. I’m scared. I don’t— I don’t want to lose you. You’re my friend, Haruka. Please don’t leave me—” Muu sobs. No response.

This is basically a repeat of what I said, but Muu is terrified of losing Haruka. She's gotten "better" in her eyes and she can't go back to when she was on the ground, getting kicked around and ignored again. She can't lose someone who listens and cares. She can't lose Haruka because he's her friend. She can't lose someone to something stupid like judgment again.

“Please… Haruka…” Muu begs. “I’m scared. I can’t… I don’t want to lose a friend again…” “…Are… you alive…?” No response.

She's terrified. She can't do this again. (It can't be her fault, right!? It was Rei's fault first. Is it hers? Is Haruka dying her fault? She didn't mean this. She didn't mean anything wrong. She was supposed to be FORGIVEN.)

She's in the same position as when she killed Rei, except it's worse because Haruka cared. He listened. He listened.

And, he's not listening, and he's not responding. Say something! Anything! Muu needs to know he's still alive.

“…you in there…?” Muu quietly asks the door. There is no response.

Muu needs Haruka to be alive, in there, because who else would be there for her?

Anyways.

I mentioned this in the ending notes, but I was intentionally vague with how it ended, so you can interpret what really happened to Haruka. Is it a dream? Is he sleeping in? Did he fulfill his promise?

As a fan standpoint, good God, he has to be sleeping in. As a writer, honestly, let's see where MILGRAM goes.

So, that's my director's commentary! Thank you for reading through this longgg post ahah. Sorry for the moments where I blended commentary with writing, it helps me explain sometimes ;;

If anyone else would like to give some commentary (whether long or short, a whole fic or selected passage), I'd love to do this again ^^!!

#mug's commentary #mug writes #mug talks #hoo boy that took a bit #sorry about that! i got distracted multiple times JIDOWAOJ #thank you so much for asking though!! i really enjoyed rereading this fic #i think this might be a fan favorite of mine?? I'm not really sure lol

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angelst4re · 2 years ago

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tattoo!artist!jamie tattooing his full fucking name near as possible to your reader’s cunt (this was one of the prompts listed by someone else and you)

okay so this was and still IS one of my favourite ideas ever. and i really wanted to write and post it tonight so i'm hoping and praying that it doesn't feel rushed at all! although i think i did spend more time searching for this video (below) than i did writing it :( and yes i had to make the gif myself bc i couldn't find it anywhere :')

Good Girl- Tattoo Artist!Jamie x Reader

summary: you lose a bet against jamie...

warnings: jamie and reader are friends with benefits! NSFW! smut, oral (reader receiving), sex toys, briefly mentioned pain kink? (that probably has a name, i'm too tired to think rn!)

note: NOT PROOF READ </3 this fic is super unrealistic, let's just pretend everything that happens here is safe! (i also don't know how tattoos work, i've mentioned this before haha) also it's almost Jamie's birthday :) i might post a super cute fluffy fic for his day :)

As you walked from your car into the tattoo studio, you thought about what led you to this decision. It was such a terrible idea, but you lost a bet after all, you had to do it.

When you and Jamie were out at a bar, he had made a bet that the bartender would ask for your number. You had told him that was stupid! Clearly the bartender had seen you were with Jamie, he wouldn’t dare ask for your number! Would he?

He did. And that is what led you into this, all because you lost a bet.

You sat down in the waiting room, pulling your tiny skirt down as it was barely covering anything- not that anyone would see, the tattoo studio was closed, it was only you and Jamie there.

“Ah, I see you’re on time.” Jamie says with a smirk, leaning against the door frame. He wore a black t-shirt and had his hair pushed back, a pair of circular glasses resting on his face.

He motioned for you to follow him as he led you to a room, you picked up your bag and followed him, your heart racing in your chest.

“I can’t believe you agreed to this,” he chuckled.

“Well, I can’t say no to a dare, can I? I’m not a pussy.” You tried to act like you weren’t terrified, like your hands weren’t shaking as you slightly bent down and placed your bag on the floor.

“Whatever you say,” he snickered, “shit there’s no gloves in here… I’ll go and get some from another room. Get yourself comfortable, darling- oh, and you might need to take that pretty thong off.” He added before leaving the room.

Shit.

You knew he was going to tattoo somewhere close to your cunt, that’s why he told you to wear a skirt, but you didn’t think it would actually be there.

Swallowing the last of your dignity, you slipped off your red lace thong, throwing it towards your bag before lying down on the table, adjusting the pillow a few times before you were finally comfortable.

“Sorry about that, it looks like we need to order some more gloves in,” Jamie said as he returned, shutting the door behind him, “you ready, love?”

You nodded your head, followed by a quiet “yes.”

He got all the equipment ready before pulling a chair up beside you and lifting your skirt up at an agonisingly slow pace. His (now gloved) thumb rubbed just inches above your clit, and it felt cold, causing your hips to buck slightly, arousal now replacing your anxiety.

“Baby, I can’t have you moving about whilst I do this, okay? Stay still for me.”

You have known Jamie for 6 years now, and in that time you had been fucking on and off, in and out of relationships with other people, you’d spend weeks together and then not see each other for months, but one thing was for sure- you were his and he was yours. You would always come back to each other in the end, so you knew you wouldn’t regret this.

“Are you ready?” He asked one final time, before turning on the damned machine.

You let out a gasp as you felt the needles working into your skin. You had gotten tattoos before, but none of them had ever felt like this. Although it hurt, you liked it, but you wished you could feel some stimulation on your clit.

“Jamie,” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut.

“Yes, darling?”

“Can you… can you…”

“Can I… what?” He asked, stopping abruptly. As if his patience was running short. That’s when his eyes dropped, focusing on your pulsing heat. “Awhh, was that turning you on, baby?” He mocked.

You nodded your head in shame, and he just laughed, getting ready to continue. You quickly grasped his wrist, stopping him.

“Jamie, please, I need-”

“What? What do you need?”

“Can you touch me?” You asked, growing shy as you realised how desperate you sounded.

He smirked, placing everything in his hands down on the table beside him, pulling one glove off before spreading your folds with his index and middle finger.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He gasped, running a finger through your folds, before focusing on stroking your clit.

You threw your head back, you were so worked up already that just his finger on your clit was enough for you to cum, but then he asked you,

“Did you bring what I asked you to?”

“I did… it’s in my bag.”

When he removed his hand from you, you let out a whine, you were so close to your high before he moved, wheeling his chair over to your bag. He chuckled at the sight of your panties, taking them and slipping them into his pocket before pulling the item out of your bag- the baby blue dildo he had bought you.

He wheeled himself back over to you and without warning, you felt the toy rubbing against your heat. It was soon covered in your slick and Jamie grinned, pushing it inside of you slowly as your nails dug into his wrist.

“Shit…” You whimpered, “feel so full.”

“Is that what you needed, darling?” He asked, leaving the toy inside you as he got a clean glove out, “poor little slut.” He chuckled, picking up the tattoo machine again before continuing his work.

As he spelled out the ‘J’ and ‘A’ of his name, he couldn’t help but watch as your cunt continued to pulse around the toy, your clit begging for stimulation. He held your legs apart, stopping you from rubbing your thighs together like you so desperately wanted.

He had now spelt out ‘JAMI’ and decided to just spell his first name, he would then give you what you needed. It was driving him mad watching your pretty pussy beg for his attention as he worked above it.

When the ‘E’ was finally complete, he took off his glasses, wiped down his work and applied something to it, your mind was too fuzzy to think about what it could be.

It felt like your prayers were answered when you felt his lips wrap around your clit, catching you by surprise.

“Oh my god!” You whined, your hand coming down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He sucked harshly on your clit, needing to see and feel you release. He slowly pulled the toy out of you before pushing it back in, repeating this action until your thighs trembled either side of his face.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m gonna… Jamie, please! Can I cum…”

“Of course, baby. You were such a good girl,” he says against your pussy, the two of you felt euphoric, as if you could get high on sexual tension, “cum for me, darling.”

With one harsh suck of your clit between his lips and the feeling of his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, you came with a loud moan. He worked you through it, pulling the toy out of you and placing it on the table beside him, his mouth moving down to ‘clean’ you up.

As his tongue now prodded against your hole, you felt his nose graze your clit. Your body shuddered at the touch as you were currently extremely sensitive, he loved this. Seeing the reaction it caused, he purposely did it again, a little harder this time, causing you to grab his shoulder and attempt to pull him away.

“Enough, too much, please…” you babbled, and he placed a kiss on your clit before lifting his head back up, looking you in the eyes and giving you a smile, you smiled back lazily as he stood up, searching the cupboard for something.

“Would you like to see it?” Jamie asked, handing you a mirror.

You held the mirror down, noticing the sticky mess that was your cunt, and then the tattoo above it, reading ‘jamie.’

“Do you like it?” He asked, in an almost teasing tone.

“I guess,” you smirked, sitting up.

“Don’t stand straight up, darling. You’ve been lying down for a while, let me clean you up properly first.”

You remained seated as he retrieved some wipes from another room. When he returned, he spread your legs again and cleaned up the mess he caused, trying his best not to touch your clit.

“Wanna come back to my place?” He asked as he cleaned you up, as if this was the most normalest thing that had ever happened. Your eyes were level his crotch as he stood above you, and you noticed he was hard underneath the restriction of his jeans, you tilted your head and gave him an innocent smile.

“Sounds fun, why not?” You said, standing up and collecting your bag, “only if you plan on giving my underwear back, that shit was expensive.”

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower smut #tattoo artist jamie <3 #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jcb

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cherry-gemz · 3 years ago

Text

Open Book: Part I

Summary: As the Assistant Librarian for a small town in Florida, you find yourself intrigued with an extraordinary little girl and her charming uncle. As each day goes by, you teach the girl about adventure and mystery with your love of books. Little do you know what's in store for you next.

Pairings: Y/N and Frank Adler

Rating: PG, all fluff

Word count: IDK, failed at the assignment 2k+ lol. So I split the fic.

Challenge Prompt: Write a story about someone trying to find the perfect birthday gift.

A/N: Happiest of birthdays dear @a-little-counter-esperanto. You are the bees knees and really a true gem! I'm so happy we've become friends - we have so many things in common it's cray. I'm wishing you all the love and happiness, sunshine! May you continue to have a fantastic birthday sleepover and enjoy being loved by all! Hope you enjoy the fic xx - Cherry

"Did you get the flowers?" Mary asked as she sat on the couch flipping through the tv.

Frank patted his chest and then his jeans in search of his keys.

"What?"

Mary kept changing the channels without a beat,"Frank. You're supposed to buy a girl flowers on the date."

Frank furrowed his brow, "Uh...no. Have you seen my keys? Really?"

Mary rolled her eyes, "She's not gonna kiss you goodnight."

He searched on the kitchen table and rummaged through old mail when a knock at the door interrupted his concentration. As he bee-lined to the door, Mary turned off the tv and hopped off the couch to grab her latest book she'd chiseled her way through for the week.

Frank swung the door open abruptly and started you as you stood at their doorstep.

"Hey! You made it, great!" Frank exclaimed. "Sorry, my head's a mess."

Mary now situated herself at the kitchen table and shouted over her shoulder, "It's because he hasn't been on a real date in over six months."

Frank turned red," What? No...I mean yes, but jeez, Mary. Remember we talked about how to read a room?"

He turned back to you, "Come in, come in. I'm just trying to find my keys."

You chuckled and nodded to the doorknob which held his set of keys and he smacked his forehead.

As you walked into the house, you noticed little knickknacks here and there on shelves. And books. Mountains of books everywhere. Piling on top of each other.

"Hi Mary," you smiled as she kept her back to you, nose deep in her book.

"Mary…" Frank scolded as he put his hands on his hips.

"Hi, Ms. Y/N."

You smiled as you approached her, "May I sit?"

She nodded in agreement and you pulled out a chair.

"I brought you something…" you say as you rummage through your canvas bag for your book on crabs. "Well, actually I was hoping you could help me...see…"

Frank smiled as he saw the two of you bonding. He caught himself admiring you more than he'd like to admit as he needed to head off to his date soon. He appreciated your assistance with babysitting Mary as the two of you first met at the local library. His date, Justine, was a waitress at the bar he would visit from time to time. While there was a chemistry between them, it was really just through vanity. With you, he had come to know you at a deeper level: the way you’d squint or furrow your brow when reviewing your clipboard. Or how adorable you’d look chewing on the cap of your pen when trying to finalize an email at your desk. He saw that you loved the color yellow, considering how many skirts and cardigans you’d paired together. And that you were a romantic at heart - the classics were your fave to read and how’d you get lost in historical facts when he had first asked you what your hobbies were. Seeing how a beautiful person you were, inside and out, he now regretted asking Justine out with you on his mind.

Mary's eyes scanned the books of quantum physics and mathematics. At first you thought perhaps she had another book instead, but as you watched her day in and day out, you were astounded at the tiny prodigy and her ability to ascertain such knowledge at her age. You'd correct the cataloging errors for the day and find her reading for enjoyment it seemed.

Then one day Frank arrived. Mary had always left on her own, but as if it were any old regular day, the handsome uncle came to retrieve his stellar niece. He had a warmness to him. His dark brown hair and beard complemented his face, one that was obvious in an overall attractiveness. And he was kind, he showed that by adopting his niece after her mother had passed away and truly nurturing her gifted talent. You learned he fixed boats for a living and lived not too far from the library. You smiled at the odd pair together, they somehow seemed to work however.

As you checked their books out, Mary tiptoed over the large walnut desk and glanced at you.

"You're pretty," she stated.

"Mary. What did we say?" Frank tsked, embarrassed, but didn't disagree with her observation.

"What? Frank, you told me that I need to state facts, rather than assumptions. And I am stating a fact that Ms. Y/LN is pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Frank?"

Frank coughed into his fist and blushed, you smirked, half wanting to know his answer, half laughing inside of how Mary was so blunt.

"Yes, Ms. Y/LN is very pretty," he replied and gazed at your eyes. He licked his lips and you had to turn away feeling flushed. You closed the last book and placed it in Mary's backpack.

"All set," you replied. "These are due on the 23rd."

Frank zipped up the backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. "Thanks, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh?" You replied as Mary looked at you both attempting to assess the flirtation occuring before her eyes.

"Well, yeah, she loves it here, I mean. And we have a few other books to return."

"Yes, we'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mary."

"Bye," Mary replied and skipped off.

Frank showed up every day after that. You found it endearing, but not wanting to read into something that wasn't there, you focused your attention on Mary. That only seemed to peak his interest further. While he had a knack for attracting women, his heart was never in it for the long haul since the minute they found out about Mary, they'd either run away from the possible responsibility, or Mary would run them off herself. But with you it was different. You were genuine and kind to Mary. Knowing quite well of her mathematical abilities, you would challenge her in other areas: art, zoology, history. You found that while she could read more college level books than any person you met in the small town, she still was a child wanting to learn about all other aspects of life. You'd sit together at a table: you, reviewing inventory spreadsheets for the latest book fair and her, immersed in some book that would put you to sleep at night.

"Frank, you should ask Ms. Y/LN out," Mary stated one day as the three of you sat at a table together. Frank practically choked and you shook your head, secretly wanting to say yes.

"Aw, Mary. Well, I bet Ms. Y/LN has guys lined up at her door every night."

"No, she doesn't," Mary replied as she turned a page of her book. Frank laughed and placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, pretending to shake her.

"Well, actually Ms. Y/LN…" he said as your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N," you interrupted. "You can call me Y/N. I feel we're on a first name basis now considering you're here everyday."

“Y/N,” he smiled. His hair was more combed today. You had noticed that he seemed to be disheveled when you first met him, however either Mary’s tactics were rubbing off on him, or it was your pure imagination.

“Yes?” you piped. You haven't been regularly dating lately. There just weren’t many prospects these days. Not ones that could keep up with conversation, let alone intellect. So instead, you found yourself immersed with your favorite fictional characters in the sea of books you’d grown to know and love.

His brow furrowed, he seemed nervous and he picked at the edge of a book as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

“Do you have a favorite book?” Mary interrupted as Frank turned to her, but seemingly glad she saved him from embarrassment.

“Do I have a favorite book? Hmmm...” you thought and a childish smile appeared on your face. “I have many favorite books, Mary...The Velveteen Rabbit, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe…”

“Yeah, but what’s like your most favorite book?”

You extended your hand out to her and she willingly accepted. Frank perked up his interest as he watched the two of you scamper off into the fiction area. Curious, he stood up and decided to follow. The two of you giggled quietly as you made your way around the columns, your free hand lightly ghosting over the spines of the books. The subtle scent of paper and dust permeated Frank’s sense of smell. He was more of an outdoorsy person nowadays as he had left behind his scholarly days teaching in Boston. It’s where Mary learned most from, his appetite to keep learning, vernacular, and wit . You slowed down and perused a row until you found your favorite book.

“Aha!” you exclaim and hid the book behind your back as Mary jumped up and down with excitement. “Now, I’m not sure if this is something you’d be interested in, it’s more for ten year olds in my opinion. However, I know you’re a very mature young lady and I find that you’d quite enjoy the story if you give it a chance.”

Frank smiled, perplexed as to what book could possibly be your favorite. You pulled the book from behind and showed Mary.

“Little Women,” she stated. “By Louisa May Alcott.”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful story, really. About sisters and the trials they endure during the American Civil War. There’s friendship, love, and growth.”

Mary bunched her nose, you could tell she was on the fence about whether she’d enjoy a story about fictional sisters and yucky love stuff. You started to pull it away, however she grabbed it from your hands. You laughed and looked at Frank who leaned onto the columns and folded his arms.

“Seems someone is wanting to expand their horizons,” he chuckled.

“So it seems,” you smiled back as Mary skipped off to return to the table leaving the two of you behind.

“I’m more of a Lord of the Rings man myself.”

“Really?” you responded playfully. “The Hobbit included, right?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I think I actually just read that one to be honest, I just wanted to impress you. I spent my time reading Calvin and Hobbes more, probably how Mary learned my sarcasm.”

You laugh and touch his forearm as a reflex, but quickly realize and pull away. The spark that you felt when you connected was undeniable. You felt butterflies with him standing next to you and you hoped he hadn’t noticed your inability to remain calm.

“Y/N…” he started to say nervously. “Would it be alright if I called ya? Maybe we can get together sometime?”

“Oh, umm,” you replied, caught off guard. While you definitely had caught feelings for the handsome man, you never would have thought it’d be reciprocated. You stuttered, trying to gather your response.

Your hesitation threw him off, and he quickly replied, “I mean...like to sit for Mary or whatever. She really likes you.”

“Of course...yes,” you reply defeated in hopes that he would have asked you out. Instead of asking why he didn’t, you started to walk back to Mary. Frank scrunched his face in frustration in knowing he missed his shot with you and blurted out the most platonic question instead. He realized as well and quickly shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and followed your lead.

Frank watched as you comfortably plopped yourself next to Mary on the couch, dreading that he had to meet up with Justine. He’d much rather relax on the couch with you and the rugrat, enjoying some silly kids movie together.

You peered over the couch, “Is it okay if she has popcorn?”

“What? Yes,” Mary said flatly and jumped off the couch to the kitchen.

“Okay, miss. But not too much sugar. Bedtime is still at 9,” Frank replied as you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s the weekend, Frank,” Mary called out from the kitchen.

“Yes, but-“

“Will you be late?” you asked.

He looked at you in surprise, “Um, no. Probably before ten?”

“Okay, have fun.”

“It’s Y/N’s birthday,” Mary replied, carrying two coke bottles and a bag of jelly beans.

You shook your head in regret of ever telling the child when your birthday was. She was so inquisitive that day, asking about all your favorites: food, animals, books, and now birthday.

“It’s your birthday?!” Frank asked.

“Yeah, no big deal.”

“How old are you?” Mary asked as she set the drinks on the coffee table and then remembered how Frank would scold her about leaving water rings. She grabbed the coasters and placed them under the bottles.

“Mary!” Frank detested and placed his hands on his hips.

“How old do you think I am?” You tease, waving off to Frank that it was okay.

“Older than Justine, that’s for sure. She said she was 24, but looks 34. But she acts like she's 12. She hasn't even read anything on quantum physics, she thought wave mechanics was something Frank was working on with a boat,” she said coolly and popped a few jelly beans into her mouth. She nestled herself back into the couch cushions and wiggled her feet.

“Mary Elizabeth!” Frank’s voice boomed as he entered the living room.

Mary leaned over to whisper to you, “Frank says I'm not supposed to correct older people. Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“And a busy body,” he huffed.

You nodded and laughed quietly, entertained at his expense.

“Well I am 32,” you smiled and looked at your watch, “As of one hour ago as a matter of fact.”

“That’s good. You’re much more mature than Justine and a better fit for him. Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Mary…that’s it. You’re on your last warning,” Frank bellowed. “Don’t make me let Y/N go home and then you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“What? No! Okay. I’m sorry,” she lamented and folded her arms.

Frank’s demeanor changed as he turned to you, “I hadn’t known it was your birthday. Don’t feel pressured to sit for her tonight if you have other plans.” Secretly he wanted to cancel on Justine and spend the night celebrating you instead.

“Oh it’s okay! It kind of appeared out of nowhere. I usually go back home and celebrate with friends and family, but my schedule didn’t permit it this year. Next year, perhaps.”

“What’s your favorite dessert?” Mary asked as she chewed on another handful of jelly beans.

“Red velvet cheesecake,” you smiled. “I have a sweet tooth.”

Frank couldn’t concentrate on his date with Justine. His mind was elsewhere. On you. Justine grazed her hand as they sat next to each other at the bar. He seemed unfazed by her gesture and looked at his watch, 9:14pm. Would it be too obvious if he cut the date short that he was into you? He coughed and took a swig of his beer.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” She cooed and bit her lip in anticipation.

“What? Oh actually I was gonna head out. The sitter needed me home by 9:30,” he lied.

“Oh, sitter?”

“Yeah, Mary. Remember? My niece?”

“That’s right. How old is she again?”

“Seven,” He said, annoyed. He recalled they had met once before. The bartender approached them and handed Frank the receipt.

“Hey, do you have any desserts on the menu?”

Justine’s ears perked in curiosity of where he was going with asking about dessert.

The bartender grunted slightly and threw a mangled tri-fold menu and Frank grabbed it quickly.

“Buddy, ring me up for the red velvet cupcake.”

#Laurens birthday challenge #Lauren's birthday sleepover #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #frank adler #gifted #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #♡ frank adler ♡#open book

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angelsfalling16 · 3 years ago

Note

From that quote-prompt list...

Have you done "I'm not leaving you here"?

Been needing some angst. XD

💜

Thanks for the prompt! <3 Sorry it took me so long to complete it; I wanted to make it a little bit longer and make it part of my 20fk series. I hope you like it! Also, I just saw that it was your birthday yesterday, so happy belated birthday!! :)

You can also read this on ao3

---

Baz

Simon gets called out at the beginning of class to go on a secret mission for the Mage, and even though it has happened before, it seems to irritate me more today. Why does Simon keep allowing the Mage to use him as his pawn?

He is more than a bomb that the Mage can point at one of his many enemies and allow to go off. He’s a person, a boy, and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, like he’s expendable. I don’t understand how I am the only one who sees this. Surely, even Penny would be wary of this. But I guess no one is willing to go up against the Mage like that. (Except maybe Fiona.)

One of these days, he is going to get himself killed, and I will not sit idly by and watch that happen. I have to make Simon see that he’s being used, that he doesn’t have to keep doing this. As soon as this class lets out, I take off in search of Simon. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to catch up with him before he gets too far away.

He isn’t in our room, but his scent is strong here, which means he was here not long ago. I rush over to the window and look out of it over the grounds to see if I can see him walking away, but he isn’t there. I’ll have to cast a spell then.

It works instantly, and I can feel Simon. He’s close. The spell starts to pull me towards him, and I take off out of our room, practically flying down the steps. I’m not sure my feet even touch the ground, but I don’t have time to stop and think about that because I have to reach Simon before it’s too late.

The spell is leading me towards the gates. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to get through with one of the Mage’s gates standing guard, but I will do whatever it takes, including spelling the idiot out of my way if I have to.

I don’t have to worry about that, though, because there’s no one there.

That’s strange, I think. There has been someone standing there every day since eighth year began, so something must have happened if the station has been abandoned.

I slow as I reach the gates to open them, and I take a moment to recast the spell to strengthen. It feels like I’m close to him, but it doesn’t feel like Simon has moved any farther away since I initially cast the spell. If there was a threat this close to the school, you would think that the Mage would have raised some kind of alarm, but he doesn’t even have anyone at the gate. It just goes to show how terrible he is at his job.

I continue to follow the pull of the spell, and it brings me to the road, then across it, then to the woods on the other side.

I can hear some sort of commotion now, and I pick up my pace. I have to help Simon. He probably won’t want it, but that’s too bad. I would die a thousand times over in order to protect him. I will not let him die if there is any way that I can prevent it.

When I reach Simon, there is no sign of the Mage of any of his men. It appears like they abandoned him here to handle this threat on his own. It’s unbelievable.

Simon is being surrounded by dozens of goblins, all of whom are vying for his head. He is doing his best to fight them off with his sword, but it isn’t enough. He’s fighting a losing battle.

One of the goblins has managed to get behind him and has a knife raised over him, ready to attack. Before I even have time to think about it, I have summoned a ball of fire in my hand, and I send it soaring in the goblin’s direction. It makes a contact, and with nothing more than a shriek, the goblin catches fire then disintegrates into ash.

Simon spins around to see what happened, and he’s understandably shocked to see me. “Baz?”

“Watch out!” I shout, rushing forward to cast a spell at a goblin that lunged at Simon as soon as he turned his back.

I keep casting spells and sending fire at the remaining goblins, and once Simon recovers from his shock, he turns to fight with me, swinging his sword wildly about, beheading one gobbling after another. He’s brilliant at it, and I almost wish I could stop and watch him in action.

We fight side by side, killing goblin after goblin, but our efforts seem futile because the goblins just keep coming at us, spilling through the trees on all sides, forcing Simon and I to stand back to back. It doesn’t look like we’re going to make it out of here alive, but we can’t give up.

One of the goblins manages to knock my wand from my hand, and I curse under my breath. I can summon my fire without it, but as the goblins close in on us and I start to grow tired from so much use of magic, I’m not sure how longer I can keep doing it.

The goblins manage to get a few good hits and cuts on us, and the smell of Simon’s blood forces my fangs to push through my gums. I could bite them, but goblins are foul and bitter tasting beings. Plus, it would leave me open to attacks from the others if I got distracted by one of them.

“You should go,” I hear Simon say behind me.

“What?”

“You’re stronger than I am. You’ll be able to make it out of here alive. Just go!”

“I’m not leaving you here! You will never be able to defeat them all on your own.”

He’s quite for a moment, and I hear a demon cry out as Simon stabs at the same time that I shoot some more fire at the ones in front of me. It’s getting harder to summon it; my magic is starting to run low. But I won’t run. I won’t leave Simon behind. I could never live with myself if I left him here to die.

“We just have to keep fighting. Someone will come help us eventually.” I don’t even believe it as I say it.

“Who? No one even knows we’re here.”

“What?! I thought the Mage sent you here.”

“He did, but he said that he had a more pressing matter to attend to. There were only a few goblins at the time, and this is my responsibility. It’s me they’re after. Which is why you should go. It’s not you they want. They’ll probably just let you leave.”

If I make it out of this alive, I am going to murder the Mage.

“I’m not leaving you!” I repeat. I look around for my wand, but I don’t see it. The next flame I summon is barely more than an ember, and it only injures the goblin in front of me, rather than killing it.

“I’m sorry, Baz!” Simon shouts, and the tone in his voice worries me.

“Why are you sorry?” I shout back, whirling around to see what he’s about to do.

That’s when everything goes black.

***

When I come to, all I see is trees.

With a groan, I force myself to sit up. There is a pounding in my head, but most of my other injuries have already started to heal. I look around and am relieved to find that Simon is lying beside,

“What happened?” I asked. “The last thing I remember is you apologizing.”

“I went off,” he says, grimacing like he hates to admit it. “I tried not to because I was worried that you would get hurt. That wouldn’t have been a problem if you had run like I told you.”

“I couldn’t leave you there!” I say, angry because he actually believes that I could just abandon him like that.

“Why not?”

“Because I--.” I cut myself off before I can finish that sentence.

“You…what?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t want you to die, alright?” I look away, but then a thought occurs to me. “Why did you care whether or not you hurt me?”

“If you died because of me, I would have a lot worse problems than a horde of goblins attacking me,” he says, but the blush on his face tells a different story.

He’s right, though. If I had died, Simon would have instantly moved to the top of Fiona’s list, right above the Mage, who is coincidentally now at the top of my own list.

“Look,” Simon says, “none of this matters. We made it out alive. Now, we can go back to trying to kill each other instead of nearly getting killed by other things.”

“I don’t want to kill you,” I mutter under my breath as I push myself to my feet, but somehow, Simon hears me.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” I start to walk away from him, back in the direction of Watford, but Simon stops me by grabbing my arm and pulling me around to face him.

“Baz…. Why did you come out here? Why did you try to help me fight the goblins when you could have let them kill me and been rid of me for good?”

“Because I don’t want you to die,” I hiss. “I actually care about whether you live or not. Unlike the Mage.”

He makes a face at that last remark but apparently decides to ignore it for now.

We’re standing barely a foot apart, and his hand is still on my arm. I could turn and run from him, but instead, I allow him to pull me closer. Because I’m weak.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to die either.”

My breath catches, and my heart skips a beat. I know that it doesn’t necessarily mean that he likes me, but it’s progress. It’s better than him hating me.

He gives my arm another tug, and we’re so close now that I have to tilt my head down to look at him. He brings a hand up to rest gently on my cheek, and I can’t help the sigh that escapes me at his touch. I lean down until our noses brush but stop there, meeting his eyes. The world seems to have disappeared around us, and it’s just him and me.

Whatever happens next could change things forever. I just wish I knew what he was thinking.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and then I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Then he kisses me.

It’s soft yet passionate, fast but gentle. His lips part around mine in a sigh, and it is the best thing that I have felt. I feel like I’m flying for the second time today, and I wonder at how Simon can make me feel like this. Like nothing else in the world matters, which feels so true.

I love Simon. He is the most important thing in my life, and I will never let anything bad happen to him for as long as I can help it. I will keep loving him and protecting him until the day I die.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #the simon snow trilogy #rainbow rowell #20fk #my writing #i apologize for any mistakes #i only did light editing #i should probably get a beta at some point #lol

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago

Note

Kaceeyyyy, I turned 21 today and am *sightly* tipsy after my quarantine solo party. I'm keep imagining Lambert trying to take care of a lightweight S.O. and it's 😂 Would you be up to a drabble or headcanon? no pressure tho bc I know you're busy and haven't been able to write as much. (Also sorry if this prompt makes you uncomfortable or anything as well) Either way I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG AND YOU'RE MY FAVORITEST WITCHER WRITER ACROSS ALL 7 SEAS!!! NETFLIX SHOULD HIRE YOU BC YOU'D DO OUR PUPPIES PROUD!

A/N: Oh babe!! You are too sweet!! Seeing you say that really made my day! I hope you like this and HAPPY BIRTHDAY FELLOW 2000s BABY also I think I may have accidentally started writing drunk!Geralt as Thor sometime through this so..... I apologize if this seems out of character for Geralt....

***

“HA! I WIN!” You declared, laughing as you stood up and reached across the table to take the small pile of coin from Geralt.

“I don’t think that-think that was very fair of you, Y/N.” The White Wolf’s words slurred as he looked down into his tankard to see how much liquor he had left. “Think you cheated.”

“How did I cheat?” You furrowed your brows, still pulling the pile of coin to your side of the table.

“Because I can’t even…. I can’t even see what cards I’ve got.” He shook his head, setting the remaining gwent cards in his hand down onto the table. “I can’t read the cards right now.”

You broke out into laughter again, throwing your head back.

Geralt reached over for the bottle of White Gull at the end of the table, but his depth perception wasn’t the greatest. He ended up knocking the bottle off into the floor. It shattered into a billion pieces, sending the witcher into a fit of laughter himself.

The door to the library opened and Eskel and Lambert stepped in. They stayed there for a moment, surveying the scene. There were numerous bottles spread on the tables throughout the library. The table you sat at with Geralt was covered in Gwent cards and coin. You were hunched over on the bench, laughing rather loudly while Geralt had his head thrown back while he laughed.

“I hope Y/N didn’t drink even half of the bottles in here.” Eskel thought out loud, picking up one of the empty bottles.

“They wouldn’t be conscious if they had.” Lambert shook his head. “Can’t drink for shit.”

“Lamb- hick -bert!” You exclaimed his name, breaking it up with a hiccup. Your face lit up at the sight of the young witcher. You quickly stood up from your seat and tried to get to him, but you moved too fast and the room spun. You giggled, reaching out to steady yourself on his arm but he was too far away.

“Easy there, bug.” Lambert moved to your side before you could stumble or fall.

You grabbed ahold of his arms, leaning into him without any care in the world. Luckily, he was sturdy and strong enough to hold your weight.

“Did you have fun while I was gone?” Lambert put his hands on to your hips to steady you.

“Yes! Of course!” You turned your head to look at Geralt. He was starting to stand up from the bench but the toe of his boot got caught on the bench and he went flying to the floor. You barked out a laugh, jumping up and down as you pointed at him. “Geralt! Geralt of Rivia! Has finally met his match!”

“Ha, ha!” Geralt laughed, turning over onto his side. “No bench can defeat me.”

“I believe it, big guy.” Eskel offer his hand to his brother.

“How much did you drink, bug?” Lambert asked you.

“All of it!”

“You barely had half a bottle of Gull!” Geralt pointed at you accusingly. “That’s where you cheated! You got me drunk! Got me drunk and-and you played Gwent with me! Stole all my coin!”

“Good job, bug.” Lambert praised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hummed, leaning into his touch. Your skin was warm and tingly, and where he kissed you seemed especially tingly.

You didn’t realize you were leaning awkwardly into him until you lost your balance and practically fell into him.

“Easy there, bug.” He kept his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you to bed. Eskel, can you get dumbass over there to his room?”

“I think I can manage.” Eskel nodded.

“Tomorrow, I want a rematch!” Geralt told you.

You opened your mouth to say something back but all that came out was a rather loud burp. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. Your widened eyes found Lambert, who looked rather impressed.

“Oh gods. That wasn’t very mannerly of me.”

“Don’t worry, bug. I’ve heard you make worse sounds. Come on.” He patted your side and began to guide you in the direction of the door.

Just as the two of you left the library, you gasped.

“Wait! My coin!” You stopped him, turning quickly to run back to the table.

“Easy! Easy! You’re going to trip and break your neck.” Lambert stopped you from getting very far. “I’ll go get it. You stay right here.”

You nodded and watched him slip back into the library.

You waited there for what felt like way too long. You decided to head to bed without him. He’d be able to just meet you there, right?

So you started down the hallway, giggling when you accidentally tripped because you were dragging your feet a little too much or when you bumped into the wall.

“Bug?” Lambert’s voice echoed from down the hall.

You started running as best as you could through the hall, using the wall as a guide since you couldn’t see very well.

“Bug, I can hear you. Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m racin’ you to bed!”

“Well, you’re going the wrong way.”

You tried to stop but you couldn’t get your feet to slow down in time. You ended up running straight into a wall. You yelped as you fell back on your ass, holding your nose.

“Lambert!”

He sighed as he approached you, shaking his head. His eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting in the hallway, therefore giving him the ability to see you.

“Lambert! I-I broke my nose!”

“You didn’t break your nose, bug.” He knelt down beside you and reached down to pull your hands away from your face. “You’re just bleeding a little.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even look!”

“I didn’t hear the crunch of bones breaking.”

You gagged at the thought.

“Come on, bug. You need to get to bed. Sleep off the alcohol in your system.” Lambert stood up, looking down at you.

“Carry me, love!” You held your arms open for him. “My legs broke!”

He rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face.

“You’re lucky I like you.” He scooped you up into his arms and began to trek to his room.

“You like me?” You looked up at him with furrowed brows. “Do you really?”

Lambert wanted to drop you right there and make you find your own way to bed.

“Bug, we’ve been together for six years. I think it’s safe to say I love you at this point.”

You giggled, reaching up to brush your fingers over his cheek.

“Love you too, handsome.”

He turned his head and pretended to bite at your fingertips, making you giggle and laugh even more.

When you arrived at his room, he tossed you down onto the bed. You broke out into laughter, rolling onto your side.

Lambert pulled off your boots and put them on the floor by the bed.

“I’ll be right back, bug.” He disappeared for a few moments to retrieve a damp cloth to wipe your nose with. He was gentle as he wiped the blood from your nose.

You thanked him, watching him as he tossed the cloth towards the door.

“You wanna change your clothes, bug? Or you wanna just sleep in that?”

“I want you to get your ass up here and cuddle me, mister!” You pointed to the pillow by your head, trying to keep your tone serious but failing miserably. You covered your mouth with your hand and giggled.

“Don’t get that attitude with me, bug.” Lambert kicked off his own boots and got into bed. “I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.” You challenged, scooting closer to him. You forced your knee between his thighs, which made him yelp and jump.

“The hell are you doin’, bug!”

“Tryin’ to get comfy, Lambert!” You whined, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“Be careful where your shoving your body parts.” He grumbled.

You slipped your arms around him and held him tightly. He buried his nose in your hair and closed his eyes.

“Night, bug.”

You burped and giggled.

“Good night, Lambert.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymoo242 @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @you-fxcking-wish-bish @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @thegaydeath @creatingstuffinpeace @wellthisstinks @andyrazzledazzle @ameliasmistake

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#lambert x reader #lambert fluff #kacey answers #anon

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 4 years ago

Text

Too Daze Gone (Joe x Reader)

(Happy birthday to me! You’re all going to suffer. This is a little something that I wrote over 2 1/2 years ago based on a concept that I thought of three years ago; one of the first ideas I ever had for a Def Leppard fanfic. I made some very minor edits to it ((since I’m not 17 anymore)), and honestly, this is still one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written. But I know you guys are gonna have my head for it later...)

Prompt: It’s December of 1989. You and Joe are recently married, the world has now officially entered the post-Hysteria era, and- well...

-----

December 1989

The soft morning sunlight was seeping through the plane’s window right next to you. Joe’s head was resting on your arm, and you used your opposite hand to stroke his hair soothingly. He had one hand on his stomach, along with his green eyes closed and shut away from the world. The plane was flying steadily now, but your minds were anything but steady at the moment. There was so much to say, but no place or time to say it. It was almost as if you two were having a telepathic conversation; there was so much thinking between you both, yet nothing was being said.

“You alright, Joe?” the voice of a London guitarist broke your attention from the window. He’d strolled over to the seats where you and the man in question were sitting, and let his concern get the better of him.

There was far too much concern going around today, so Phil's question was rather unnecessary.

“Oh, he’s fine,” you answered sweetly, knowing that Joe didn’t want to answer, and also not wanting to give Phil any hint to your invisible nerves, “He’s just feeling rather sick is all.”

Phil sighed, “Ah, yeah, the turbulence wasn't the greatest.”

You decided to go along with Phil’s theory of why Joe wasn’t feeling well. After all, it was believable.

“Yeah, we haven’t been awake that long, either. You know how he can be in the morning. He’s just sick of the day, really,” you lightly joked. Today was not necessarily a good day for jokes. There was a deep, underlying sadness beneath the surface of everybody's tone no matter how much they joked around.

“Oh, so he’s got morning sickness, I see?” Phil joked along, trying to lighten the universally tense mood, “Well, congratulations on the pregnancy, Joe.”

Your heart jumped and you forced a chuckle at the statement. You felt Joe’s heart jump, too.

“Thanks, Phil,” Joe cracked a gentle smile for him as he walked away. You could feel how forced the smile was as Joe slowly reached out and squeezed your hand. He was definitely more worried than you.

“Shh, I know. I’m worried, too,” you whispered to him so quietly that you could barely hear yourself, “But we’ll deal with this later.”

~18 hours earlier~

You weaved your hands together with the utmost anxiety as you waited for Joe to get back from a small trip to the supermarket. As you waited, there was no stopping the racing thoughts in your mind. Once one thought appeared and rooted itself within you, it was impossible to keep it from rolling into a snowball of others. It was driving you absolutely mad on the inside. Keeping calm on the outside, however, came rather easily. It almost felt like second nature at the moment. Of course, you knew that was all going to change the second Joe got back.

Everything was going to change the second Joe got back.

When he did come back, you immediately stood up and went over to him, trying to be casual and lighthearted.

"Hey! How was the store?" came the greeting from you. Your voice was nearly on the verge of breaking from the tension of the whole situation.

"A fucking treat," he grumbled sarcastically, putting four bags down on the table, "The whole bloody place was packed, the service was piss poor, traffic on the way back, you name it."

You kissed him on the cheek for a few seconds in consolation, quickly making his small dimple appear as a result. Normally, it melted your heart to see him smile, but this time, it made it almost vibrate with worry. It hurt to see him happy now, since you knew it wouldn't last long.

He turned and put his hands on your waist, "I suppose it was worth it to get back to you, though."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickly pecked him on the lips, telling him, "You're too kind. Now let's see what you've looted up on-"

Desperate to distract both of you from each other, you turned to the grocery bags and started to pull the items out. You did it in a sped-up manner to keep your hands from shaking too visibly. You had no idea when to mention what had to be mentioned.

"I'll tell you what," Joe spoke up, his annoyance still audible in his voice, "The service down there was so fucking slow. Took me a half hour to get four bloody bags worth."

"I'll say you took a while," you impulsively decided to create a segue- any segue- that may get you closer to your fated subject. You blurted out "You’re late."

As he continued pulling out the groceries, he cocked an eyebrow, and asked without looking at you, "What do you mean I’m late?"

"Just, you're late, that's all," you shrugged, the anxiety overwhelming you more. It was getting close to the subject now.

"I'm not late," he chuckled, still not looking up or fully understanding you. You both often liked to joke and tease each other, so this wasn’t anything strange to him.

"No," you stated calmly, going completely motionless with fear, “But I am."

He didn't completely comprehend what you had said. He began to put away the groceries and asked you obliviously, "What do you mean you're late?" Late for what?"

You pressed on, remaining rooted to a motionless state and staring at him, "No, Joe... I’m late."

"You mean that this month you didn't get your-" he started off normally, but then paused as the penny dropped. He froze, and dropped the can he was holding. Your heart sank in your chest at his reaction. Now was the time to talk about it, and you could sense it wasn't going to be pleasant. Part of you began to think that this is how it might end for you two.

He turned around, looking almost mortified and whispered, "Oh my god... are you...?"

"I don't know..." you were shaking now, "I'm just assuming."

For a moment you both stood there, staring at each other, lost for words.

Another impulse suddenly arose within you, and you blurted out again with a wavering and worried voice, "I-I hope I'm not, Joe, and I know you don't want me to be, either, because now is not a good time for this to be happening! You’re at the peak of your career, and we’ve got the new album on the way, then you'll be on tour again- and-"

"Hey, hey, shh," Joe moved forward and put his hands on your arms, "Calm down... it's okay, it's okay. First of all, who ever said I didn't want this? You can't just assume that I wouldn't be okay with it... and I'm not mad- really, I swear! Second of all, this isn't set in stone yet. We'll have to find out if you are first, and if you are, we'll... then we'll make it work out somehow. Don’t think too much just yet; try to relax.”

You blew out a shaky exhale and muttered, “Yeah, okay...”

“Have you been sick?"

"No, but something just feels... off."

"How late are you?"

"About a week..."

"Have you been this late in the past, but gotten your period anyway?"

"Yes..."

"Then we don't know for sure," he kissed the top of your head, embracing you and reassuring, “So what if you're late? That doesn't have to mean anything! I'm worried, too, but we can't just jump to conclusions like this. I wouldn't even put the stakes at 50-50 right now. All this worrying is probably over nothing. You could just be overthinking."

You turned your head and attempted to look up at him to say, "But this is a child, Joe... if there's even a small possibility that this child exists, we've got to assume that it does... we can't just ignore it for too long."

"You've got a point, you've got a point, but just for a second, genuinely consider the possibility that you're not-" he didn't dare say the “p” word, "-you know..."

You sighed into his shoulder, fighting back against tears that wanted to fall, "Okay, okay, you could be right, but there's so much that might have to be done- we can't just put this off..."

"We can until we know for sure," he suggested, "If it's worrying you so much right now, then I'll run out to the corner store and pick up a test. We can sort this out once and for all. How long did you wanna wait before taking a test?"

"I don't know, I don't know," came the drawn out reply as a few tears spilled from you, "Maybe a day or two or three, but I'm just getting so worried that it might be true, I can't wait anymore."

"Okay, then you won't have to wait anymore," he tilted your chin up to give you a quick and thoughtful kiss, then wiped away your tears, "I'll run to the store quick and buy us a test. Is that okay?"

"Yes, please just do it. I'm sorry- you just got back from the store and-"

He laughed and squeezed you tighter, swaying with you in his arms, "Ah, don't worry about it; it's a necessary trip now."

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would."

"What'd you think I was gonna do? Leave you?" he chuckled lightheartedly, though he guessed exactly what you were thinking.

You faked a chuckle in reply, "Yeah, kinda... I had a lot of time to overthink everything."

"Well, would you leave me? Especially if I were in your shoes?"

It was your turn to squeeze him tighter (and laugh into his chest), "Joe, if you were in my shoes, I think we'd have a real problem."

"Oh, I know, I know- but apart from that- would you leave me?"

"Of course not..."

"Exactly. You wouldn't leave me, so I definitely won't leave you. You know we've always looked after each other, and I still plan on holding up my end of the bargain."

He kissed you again, longer this time, before softly assuring you, “I love you. Don't ever think that I’d abandon you to raise a child on your own, cos' it'll never ever be a possibility. I'll be here no matter what. Positive or negative."

***

Positive or negative, indeed, you told yourself as you wearily gazed out of the plane's window. You still weren't completely sure how to feel about the outcome of the previous day, but- as you told Joe before- you had to deal with it later. There were more pressing matters currently at hand. Your previous issue could wait for an extra day or two. The more serious problem that you all were on your way to currently needed the most attention. This particular problem also seemed to outline a theme for the past 24 hours; accidental life or accidental death.

~17 hours earlier~

You both sat on the bathroom floor in quiet anxiety. Your hands were joined in a world of worry. At the moment, it was impossible to tell who was more worried, since neither of you could bring yourselves to speak.

The longest two minutes of your lives were currently taking place. The test was sitting on the counter of the sink, and neither of you were counting down to when you could look at it again. Every now and then, a reassuring thought would come to mind that you were all worked up over nothing. After all, Joe was right; you barely had any evidence other than the fact that you were late, so you couldn't just assume the worst. On the other hand though, you couldn't help but feel that there was some impending doom about to come, almost like you felt it instinctively.

With you both being scared shitless at the moment (and not even trying to hide it), you sensed that deep down, both of you knew what the result was going to be. Neither of you wanted to admit it, though.

A few rooms away, the phone suddenly sounded off, shattering the tension and making you both jump. It was almost like a form of divine intervention to prevent you from thinking any more. Almost immediately, Joe lifted his hand away and quietly said that he'd answer it. He stood up and left, leaving you alone with a possibly huge revelation sitting on the counter a few feet away. However, that would no longer be your biggest concern, for you could easily overhear Joe talking on the phone.

"'Ello?" he answered before pausing and replying anxiously, "No, I really don't have a minute... I can't say, but I don't have time to chat. You alright, mate?”

There was an unnerving pause before you heard Joe ask, "Why?"

There was an even longer pause before he spoke again. Your heart was pounding more. That gut feeling that your lives were about to change for the worse grew enormously without warning. On top of that, you suddenly realized that it had been well over two minutes at this point. Your future awaited you now.

"Fuck... oh my god..." Joe's voice was a lot more quiet now, "...oh my god, is he...?"

Now, you began weaving your hands together, slowly growing more and more impatient and worried.

"Dammit," Joe said a little louder, "We'll we've gotta go, then. We've gotta go as soon as possible. What about Rick and Sav...? Alright, then. We'll meet you there tomorrow morning- I've really gotta go and tell Y/N right now. I'll call you in a bit. Yeah, alright... just try and calm down, mate- okay? See ya, then."

As soon as he hung up, you heard him rush back to the bathroom.

"Y/N, he huffed before he was even in the room, "Y/N, something's happened and we’ve gotta-“

He froze in the doorway upon seeing you now standing and completely covering the test in your hands.

"No," he moved forward and put a hand on yours, "Please don't look at it yet; something awful's happened and I don't know how much sudden news we can take at this point. Did you look at it?”

You shook you head, not breaking eye contact with him, "No, but now I'm too scared to take my hands off. What's happened?"

He came right out with it, "Steve's been found unconscious at a bar in Minneapolis. They took him to a hospital, he’s in intensive care and... and he’s pretty bad.”

Right then and there, you dropped the test in your hands with a gasp. You were speechless, but part of you couldn't help but ask, "Is- is he gonna make it?”

You suddenly saw tears in Joe's eyes when he answered, "I don't know... he won't die unless we knock some fucking sense into him! That was Phil who just called, and he sounded scared shitless..."

"W-well what are we gonna do? Is anyone going to see Steve?"

"We are. Tomorrow morning we're flying out with Phil, Mutt, Tony, and Peter."

"Wait, what about Rick and Sav?"

"They both can't make it on short notice. We're gonna have to give Steve a beatin’ over the head from them.”

Just like that, you forgot all about the test on the floor. Steve was dying, and that was enough to flood your mind. You wanted to cry, you wanted to hug Joe, you wanted to scream, and most of all, you wanted to see Steve and sob your brains out to him.

"He's never gonna get better, is he?" you quietly asked, not particularly looking for an answer. Joe shrugged and sighed, running his hands through his hair.

He coldly chuckled in a quiet voice, "Not unless we keep drilling it into his head that he's gonna kill himself!"

Hanging your head out of astonishment, you sat on the counter, realizing that this was the biggest blow to your lives since Rick’s accident.

At least, it would be until you saw the result of the test on the floor.

"Joe..." you whispered to him, staring down at your hands, "Should we look at the test? Should we wait until we get back?"

Joe did nothing more than stare at you, frowning nervously. He moved his own hands forward, placed them on top of yours, and took a deep breath.

“We’re only gonna be more worried if we wait... so we might as well settle things now.”

Joe slowly got on his knees, and felt on the floor for the test without looking at it. When he located it, he rose back to his feet, and brought the test forward. He kept it covered with all his fingers wrapped around it to conceal the verdict.

Blowing out a trembling breath, you looked at him as he did at you, and he gently unfolded his fingers from the test. You both simultaneously looked down to see the clearly marked result. In that second, you were fairly certain that life would never be the same.

In fact, you were positive.

***

“Now is literally the worst possible time to talk about this, Joe,” you whispered again so no one else on the plane could hear, “It can wait a day or two. We’ve got to worry about Steve first."

Joe nodded a little, agreeing with you, “Okay, I suppose it can wait.”

“Don't stress yourself out so much; it's literally making you sick. Besides, I’m the one who’s supposed to be sick,” you chuckled, “That’s not your job.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed a little, “It really is the turbulence… and the fact that Steve’s… and you’re… and I’m surprised you’re not this overwhelmed.”

You sighed and turned your head towards the window, “Yeah... I’m really surprised, too. This is gonna be one hell of a story to tell this kid when they’ve grown up...”

“I feel sorry that their story had to start out like this,” Joe put another hand on top of your already joined hands with a guilty exhale, “With such bad timing...”

As you watched the illuminated clouds move on by the window of the plane, you couldn’t help but think that things truly would be okay at one point: like that maybe this wouldn’t be such bad timing after all. Things would all work out eventually. How far away that merciful checkpoint was, you’d never be able to guess.

***

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in a circle of people in a rather pleasant-looking and sunlit room. For such a nice day that it was, nothing about the day seemed to fit the mood the weather provided; the universe simply wouldn’t allow it. Now was the time for the serious matter you came for; you were desperately trying to help Steve.

“Steve, you’re scaring the shit out of us,” Phil read bluntly from his letter to his best friend, trying not to let soft emotion seep into his tone. He knew he needed to be stern, but caring towards him.

The whole time he spoke, you wanted to devote all of your attention to him and Steve, but soon found that you couldn't. The constant thought of your unborn child was first on your mind, and although you didn’t want that taking over your thoughts, it was beginning to eat you alive. You almost felt like you couldn't hold the secret back any longer, despite only knowing for a day. In any other circumstances, it would have been so much easier to keep it secret. Today, however, was the worst possible day, with the worst possible scenario.

Every now and then, Joe would look over at you to see how you were doing, and turn back to not be conspicuous to everyone else. You could practically sense his growing worry. Going on in this manner for so long was starting to make your own unstoppable thoughts bubble to the surface. You couldn't hold out for much longer, and was even starting to think outside the box about your while situation. Was being with child really a problem? Did it have to be a bad thing right now? Could you actually find a way to rip some positivity from it all and shed some light on this situation?

That's when it hit you.

When Phil was done his speech, some silent tears were shed by everyone in the circle (including Steve). Near silence commenced afterwards (which only reminded you that there was no distraction from your thoughts now). You reached out to Joe slowly, and took his hand in a tight grip without looking at him. While you felt his eyes on you, you didn't dare look at him.

"Has anyone else got something to say to add onto that?" Peter softly asked, looking around the circle. Your heart began to pound; an opening for you was coming.

Phil slowly began to comment, looking at his feet, "Well, there's nothing I can say to get the point across any more. We can beg and plead all we want but the point still stands, Steve. I know you're not a fan of us guilt tripping you to hell- but we don't want to beat you up; that’s not what we came here to do. We love you, mate... so it doesn't matter whether or not we guilt trip you by saying we're worried sick, or- or..."

"I'm pregnant," you stated simply, closing your eyes and squeezing Joe's hand. While you didn't see it, you felt Joe inhale and look at you instinctively. For the single day that you were aware of your condition, you and Joe had feared the "p" word, and avoided using it at all costs.

Phil didn't entirely comprehend what you said, and kept talking on, "Exactly, even if we said that-"

"No-" you sat up in your seat and opened your eyes, now shaking again, "I mean... I'm pregnant."

You looked over at Joe, who seemed tired, yet understanding. Your eyes went down to his hand as you corrected yourself, "We're pregnant."

All eyes were on you now, but no one had any inclination to speak for a moment.

“Are you serious?” Mutt broke the silence in astonishment, “You're fucking with us right now, aren't you?"

“She’s not,” Joe shook his head, still fixing his loving eyes on you.

Steve looked at Phil and stated coldly, "I thought you said you guys weren't gonna make stuff up to guilt trip me."

"Does it look like I'm making this up?!" you snapped at him, anxious and shameful tears brimming your eyes. You looked around at everyone, landing your eyes on Steve.

"So you're serious?” he asked softly, frowning as he flicked off ashes from his cigarette, “You really are pregnant?”

You nodded, trying to hold yourself together.

“When did you find out?” Peter inquired gently, coming off as the most calm member of the group.

Your voice began to break as you told him with a sad chuckle, “Yesterday... we were waiting for the result of the test right when you called, Phil...”

Phil's eyes lit up at your statement, and he apologized, "Oh- fucking hell... Joe... you even said you didn't have time to talk... and what I said on the plane this morning- must've only made things worse... guys, I'm so sor-"

"That wasn't your fault, mate," Joe smiled sadly, "There's no way you could've known."

"It was just bad timing," you stared at Joe's hand in yours, feeling him shaking as well.

No one spoke for a while after that; no one could think of the right thing to say. It seems you both had scared them all into silence (even more than Steve had). Everyone in the circle couldn't speak because they no longer saw you and Joe the same way. A minute ago, you were still Y/N and Joe. Now, you were mum and dad. The others didn't know how to speak to those strange new people just yet.

“Well, congratulations, for one thing,” Tony broke the silence with a soft smile. A few muffled chuckles and agreements went around the circle, but it wasn’t what you or Joe wanted to hear.

“No, no, that’s not the point,” you threw your hands out in frustration, “We never even planned on telling anyone today! Don’t you guys see how suddenly life can come and go? Twenty-four hours ago Joe and I didn’t even have a child, and now we do. Twenty-four hours ago, we didn’t even think that there was a possibility of you dying-“ you pointed at Steve, giving him your own furious input, “-and now there is. It’s just all so surreal, but no matter how bad the timing of your life is, there’s always time to fight for survival. And that's exactly what we need to get a grip on right now.”

Steve put out his cigarette at this point, looking as if he were genuinely listening to you now more than ever.

“And I guess timing was a real bitch to us today,” you put a hand on your abdomen for the first time since you found out, addressing Steve directly, “But I’d say now you’ve got a little bit more to fight for. Just think about this whole situation; it’s not exactly a tale to be proud of. If this story keeps getting worse, and this is how it ends for you- I don’t want that to be the story of Uncle Steve. I want our child to be born into a world where you're thriving- where they... where they actually have an Uncle Steve."

You had hit a nerve (or a soft spot, to say the least). Before you even realized exactly what you had said, everyone in the circle was crying, including you and Steve. Joe looked at you with his face smothered in tears, but smiling, no less.

The seven of you remained like that for a minute or two, absorbing what had really hit everyone hard, and quietly crying your brains out.

Steve didn’t raise his head to ask you with heartfelt astonishment, “...Uncle Steve, really?”

“C’mere, you fucking idiot,” you sprang to your feet at one point and rushed over to him, taking him in your arms as he stood to take you in his without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“I love you so much, Steve,” you sobbed into his chest, “And I will always care about you. You mean so much to me, and I know you’ll mean so much to the baby, too.”

One by one, everyone else in the circle joined in the hug, each of them murmuring their love to Steve in their own affectionate way. Once you were all broken up, Joe embraced you himself and kissed you over and over again.

“Hey, back off from her,” Mutt teased, “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I still can’t believe you knocked her up,” Phil sighed with happy disbelief, “That’s something we only ever joked about!”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t have to be seen as a joke anymore,” Joe put his hands on your hips and smiled, tearing up all over again, “I’m gonna be a dad...!”

Peter chimed in, “Now that’s a bit scary.”

“It’s not scary,” you chuckled, stroking the back of Joe’s head, “It’s exciting! Timing is a bitch... but I think I’m ready for anything time can throw at me, now.”

Reaching that point of acceptance was a day-long journey that you thought would never have a final destination. All was nearly well in that moment where you and Joe hugged with a seemingly-changed Steve standing by. Right then and there, the future seemed bright for everyone; including your unborn child. An eternity went by in those two days you were gone for, and even though the next day you found out that your test result was a false positive, and Steve only lived for about another year, that false positive seemed to be just what you all needed to keep the world at bay.

The end

#*dances with an umbrella as your tears rain down on me* :3DD #your tears are the best birthday presents i could ask for #def leppard #def leppard fanfic #def leppard x reader #joe elliott x reader #original content #i honestly don't know if I'll ever write anything that can top this as far as a one shot goes #phil collen #steve clark #peter mensch #mutt lange #i thought of this when I was into Leppard for like 2 months #maybe less than that #also the pic of joe on the right really makes me fEEL THINGS #yes i stole the title of this from a Billy Squier song #i started writing this on august 13th 2018 and finished it on december 9th 2018 #I wanted to post this in december 2020 but I was taking a hiatus

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anobscurename · 4 years ago

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XII — masterlist

concept: chris is hosting a charity event, and asks you to be his date. tensions come to a head in the friendship group when things get out of hand. the slowest of slow burns. part thirteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader // platonic!sebastian stan x reader

word count: 5,1k

warnings: tw:blood (reader breaks a glass and accidentally cuts herself), angst

author's note: the quote that is bolded in this part is a direct quote from chadwick boseman. as a south african, he, and his portrayal of the black panther, meant the world to me. i very briefly considered making the gala in this part be held in his honour, but i felt it might be insensitive, especially with everything else effectively overshadowing it. so i just included the quote as a little ode to him. rest well, king.

If scientists were ever to turn their dissecting gaze to the the phenomenon of The Third Wheel, you would be a prime specimen candidate for study.

Because in that week she stayed, your status was relegated to just that: a third wheel.

The tabloids had fun with that, too. You were becoming a national treasure of a meme. You'd even seen yourself on Twitter the other day, the caption reading "my friends vs me" attached to some sneakily taken paparazzi picture of you reading a book under a tree in the park while looking every bit as stone-faced and disinterested while Chris and Lily could barely keep their hands off each other.

In every photo that followed, it was the same. If you wanted to keep someone distracted for hours, ask them to pore over every single newly published photo of Lily and Chris, and try and find a single one where they weren't touching eachother.

They'd come up empty, because it was a waste of time. Overnight, Chrily had become the new celebrity couple of the moment.

And you'd become the patron saint of third wheels everywhere.

It wasn't like you'd forced yourself on the couple, begging to go out with them. If anything, you would've much rather been in Tibet, if not the furthest geographical location away from them and their canoodling.

But the thing about Lily was that she was so damned nice, that whenever you declined their offer, she would insist until you said yes.

The newest picture on your feed, retweeted lovingly by your friends and apparently thirty thousand people worldwide, was of you, mid-eyeroll, mouth stuffed with pizza while Chris and Lily cuddled next to you at the restaurant you had gone to earlier that week for lunch, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. The caption was the forever classic "mood."

You tried not to groan. It wasn't particularly flattering, and definitely not dignified having so many people watch you endure this.

At least the paps couldn't follow you into the house, because that was where the real magic happened. Many a night you would wait patiently for Chrily to stop whatever it was they were doing on the couch and take it back to the bedroom before you'd sneak into the kitchen, trying to stealthily drown your sorrows in Hagen Dasz.

Because once they'd take it to the bedroom... needless to say, Dodger had become a regular bunk mate of yours, and the bathroom doors remained firmly shut with music blasting on your earphones.

There were different kinds of sadness rejection could leave you with. There was the immobilizing kind, the kind that would leave you bed bound and catatonic, purely unable to move.

And then there was what you were experiencing. The kind that had you dragging yourself out of the house at any possible spare moment, just to not be in close quarters with them, but also to not be alone with your thoughts.

So that was why, when Chris found you, you were outside, sunbathing by the pool, while Dodger pranced through the sprinklers in the large lawn beside you.

"Have you seen this?" Your voice had become somewhat devoid of emotion the past few days. You knew that if you let yourself feel too much, you'd feel it all. And then you'd show your hand. "This is the greatest feeling in the world."

You passed your phone to Chris, who was chuckling at the flatness of the tone in which you had rejoiced. That chuckle morphed into full blown laughter when he saw the meme that you had been looking at earlier.

"Yeah, laugh it up," you mocked. "You're going to have to start paying me more now, you know. I'm famous."

"Would a higher salary buy me a date to tonight's benefit?" Chris asked, still laughing a little when he passed the phone back to you.

"What happened to Lily?"

You knew he wasn't asking you because he'd wanted you there with him. He was asking you because something must've happened to prevent time spent with his precious girlfriend. God, you sounded bitter. Jealousy really did not become you.

"She had to fly back to London last night," he said, forlorn. "Something came up. She said she'd try to make it, but I haven't heard from her yet and it's an eleven hour flight."

You hummed in response, your only indication to having heard him. Your eyes were closed behind your sunglasses, but you could hear the frown in his voice when he continued.

"The dinner is already paid for, and I have a dress waiting for you. I got it for Lily for tonight, but–"

"You know, in some countries, buying a date for the night is called solicitation. And I'm sorry, Chrisopher," you said, finally turning your head to look at him, "but I'm just not that kind of girl."

His last ditch effort to persuade you had your attention. "There will be an open bar."

"You really know how to make a girl swoon."

———————

The dress was waiting for you when you stepped out of the shower. It was laid out on your bed, a rich, deep, violet. Demure, but corseted, with a floor length skirt.

If it was bought to fit Lily... You swallowed thickly, self conscious in your own body for the first time since you'd been in high school.

You were comfortable in your body. So much so, you'd even danced burlesque in front of many an ogling stranger at Chris' dare on your birthday.

But Lily... She was not quite of this world. And once again, jealousy struck in the worst sense: you were drawing comparisons to her and yourself. Which was never healthy.

The dress fit you surprisingly well – but the moment of truth would only come once the zipper was done up. For all your trying, you simply could not reach it long enough to zip it fully by yourself.

You had become accustomed to Chris barging into your room unannounced, so the soft knock at your door had your heart leaping into your throat.

"Are you ready? The car should be arriving in..." There was some shuffling – Chris pulling his suit sleeve back to check his watch. "Ten minutes."

If your heart hadn't already been in your throat, it certainly was now. "Just a minute," you strangled out, a new sense of vigour in your motions as you struggled to reach the zipper.

"You alright in there?" Chris called through the door.

"I'm–" You huffed in exasperation, giving up.

Not waiting for an invitation, in case something was truly wrong – you had a habit of keeping those kinds of things to yourself, even if they tore you apart within – Chris cracked the door, peering in, eyes downcast and averted in case you were in a compromising position. "Can I come in?"

Swallowing your humility, you hummed your admission.

He slipped into your room, eyes still on the ground. His hands slid into his pockets – something you realised he tended to do if he was a little uncomfortable or if he was trying to find the right words to say. Being a man with such a vast vocabulary, he often found himself dumbfounded in your very presence.

"You could at least look at me."

It was intended as a joke, but your voice was cracked and soft, and it sounded so much... more than what you meant.

He slowly pulled his eyes towards your face, taking you in from the floor up. His raking stare landed on your bare back, and, without much of a prompt, he strode over to you, hand already inching towards the zipper.

He felt you tense – he was that close to you.

"May I?" He asked, so gently that you wouldn't have even heard it if the room hadn't been so suddenly still, and if he hadn't been standing so fucking close.

You couldn't speak, tongue thick in your mouth. So you just nodded.

His knuckle grazed up your spine as he zipped the dress, and if he didn't notice the gooseflesh that rose, he certainly did when once the dress was zipped, he absentmindedly smoothed his warm hands over your shoulderblades.

You shuddered under his touch, but found yourself pulling away. You had a habit of doing that, too. Not that it was unwarranted – he simply just wasn't yours to touch.

Slowly, you turned to face him, and the look on his face – followed by a near imperceptible sharp gasp – nearly made your heart explode.

The dress hugged your every curve, complimenting you perfectly. If you let your imagination escape you, you would almost imagine it had been made with the intention of you wearing it, and you alone.

"I'm surprised it fits," you said, only to break the stretch of silence that had gathered.

"Why?" He shrugged, reeling himself in. The moment was gone instantaneously. "It's tailored to you. It's yours."

———————

The gala was a private party, but that didn't stop the press from waiting outside the gates.

Camera flashes blinded you, even behind the tinted windows of the rented town car, and you felt yourself withdrawing from the windows altogether.

Unfortunately, that just brought you closer to Chris, who was seated with you in the back on the plush leather seats.

"Sorry," you mumbled, having pressed yourself into his shoulder.

There was tension in the car – you'd have to be well and truly inept to not notice. It was slowly dawning on you, how unusual this all was. He had a girlfriend, for fuck sakes. What were you doing there with him?

It was almost a relief getting out of the car, the cool night air caressing your skin as you inhaled deeply, steeling yourself. It had become immeasurably stuffy in the backseat, and you were just grateful that the discomfort brewing in the pit of your stomach dissipated with every new fresh breath of air.

The air was misted with ocean spray, and in the distance, you could hear the crashing of waves against rocks, churning sea perfectly mirroring your roiling emotions.

The grecian style manor in which the gala took place sat atop a cliffside, overlooking dark, inky sea. It was almost enough to take your breath away.

A long set of marble stairs led to the open double doors, and just from being their waitress, you knew how celebrities thrilled in making an entrance. And what an entrance it was.

Panting slightly from the climb – especially having done so in heels, and without the assistance of Chris' waiting arm – you stepped into the gilded foyer, guarded by marble Greek statues and busts. A crystal chandelier cast warm light, reflecting off the large pillars that held the roof like Atlas was said to have held the world.

Chris playfully chucked you under your chin to shut your open hanging mouth. Your teeth clattered together and he gave you a knowing smirk. "Has anyone ever told you that you're easy to impress?"

"Then you must be severely unimpressive, Evans," you hissed back before making your way past him and towards the doors leading to he ballroom. Judging by the chatter you could hear inside, this was where the event was being held. Perceiving that you were alone, you turned at the doorway to see Chris watching you leave, brow furrowed in thought.

"Chris?"

He snapped out of it, raising his brows in question. "Yeah?"

"Are you coming?"

"To my own event?" He smirked, striding over to join you. "Of course."

———————

The charity was held in honour of Children in Need and The Children's Trust, two charities Chris worked closely with.

As the host, he had a lot of rounds to make, and you found yourself standing a little off to the side, following him like a shadow, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Your line of charity work was more hands on, having helped rebuild houses and gather supplies following natural disasters. You were primarily a volunteer. But suddenly, to be surrounded by the wealthy benefactors – who you knew you'd never be able to do much without in the world – you were at a loss.

Wealth dripped from women's ears in the form of drooping diamond earrings, their very bodies clad in money, while the men sported it around their wrists and in their suits. You had never felt so plain, so simple in your stature before.

After the fifteenth handshake, you decided to let Chris do what he did best. His natural charisma and charm was already hard at work, and you tried to slip away without him noticing.

You had made it all of two steps when his hand found your wrist, gently pulling you back to him. His voice was low. "Where are you going?"

"Participate in the open bar, see if I can spot any familiar faces..." In all honesty, you were just uncomfortable, and the smile on your face was becoming increasingly fake. You needed a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts, organize them properly.

His other hand had found your waist, a thumb subconsciously running along the velvet coated boning of the corset as he searched your eyes. Conclusive that nothing was outwardly wrong, he let you go.

"Save me the last dance," he said, eyes bright under the golden light.

You smiled tightly. As you departed, you called over your shoulder: "no promises."

———————

The corset was feeling tighter by the passing second.

You were stood at the donations table, where guests could anonymously place their contributions to the charity of their choice. And the numbers people were dropping, casually, like it was nothing...

Of course, you understood that it was everything. These children needed it. But you had wanted to donate something too, and you felt disheartened by the ever climbing amount of money they placed.

It helped to have deep pockets, but yours were shallow. A contribution was a contribution, though, and every cent counted.

Tentatively, you picked up the engraved golden fountain pen that had probably just been discarded by Elon Musk, and shakily scrawled your number down.

A low whistle from behind you nearly made you leap out of your skin. Turning, you shot a burning glare to Sebastian, who had just arrived. He had spotted you, and promptly came over to hover over your shoulder.

"That's quite a sum of money," he commented.

"I'm sorry that not all of us fought a giant grape in the world's highest grossing film of all time, but I'm doing what I can," you growled back.

"Easy, tiger," he said, hands up in surrender. "That's not what I meant."

You had known what he meant, just given the admiration on his face. He was pleasantly surprised and appreciated your effort, even if it didn't even come close to the lowest bid the others had laid.

You supposed you were just irritated – irritated you couldn't do more, that you hadn't done more. That you were at this event that you clearly shouldn't be at. An event that Lily would've shone by Chris' side at.

"I'm sorry," you sighed. Sebastian wasn't deserving of your bark nor bite. You decided a joking remark would ease the tension. "These are meant to be done anonymously, you know."

"Yeah, but everyone drunkenly boasts about it eventually. Especially the older ones," he said, sliding easily past you to place his own money. You didn't look at the number – it felt like it would cheapen the act of charity.

He led you to the bar, where Mackie had struck up a conversation with Scarlett. It was nice to see them all again, familiar faces in a sea of unknowns.

Scarlett stunned in a subdued midnight blue – pantsuit snug on her form in suggestion of a good tailor – her hair falling around her shoulders, lips painted a red reminiscent of her name.

She brightened when she saw you, immediately roping you into a perfume scented hug. "Oh, thank God, save me from him."

You laughed softly into her hair. "I'm sorry, but once he's got his hooks in, there's no letting go."

"You got that right." Anthony pulled you into a hug of his own once Scarlett released you. "How're you doing, girl?"

You waved off his concern as he scanned your face. "I'm fine."

"You having a fun time third wheeling?" Scarlett sipped her cocktail, imprinting a perfect red stain on the rim. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and you just knew.

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes," Anthony chuckled.

"You've all seen it?" Your eyes rested on Sebastian when you asked, who had his elbows propped on the bar, waiting for his drink. He was the only one who hadn't admitted to it yet.

"It's all I can see every time I open any social media," he grinned, nodding to the bartender in thanks when the drink was served. "Congratulations, you're an overnight national treasure."

Anthony raised his glass in toast to you. "To {your name}."

The clink of Scarlett's glass against Anthony's really drove the slow embarrassment creeping across your cheeks. "Not the hero we needed."

"But the hero we deserved," finished Sebastian.

"You rehearsed this, didn't you?" You groaned. You reached for Sebastian's freshly poured drink. "What is that?"

"Bourbon... Why do you–? Hey!"

You had promptly taken the glass from him at the mention of hard liquor and threw it back, embracing the burn the alcohol consumed your throat in.

"That's the spirit," Anthony winked.

Seb was pouting, mournfully staring at the crystal tumbler you had returned to his reaching hand. "I just got that..."

While Sebastian ordered another – and a drink for you specifically, so as to prevent further robbery – Scarlett leaned closer to you. "Where are the first and second wheels anyway? I haven't seen the first, and have yet to meet the second."

"The first is over there," you pointed him out once you'd spotted him in the crowd. "And the second, well... She's–"

And in your surprise, you abruptly cut yourself short. Because gliding through the doors was a woman looking every bit as beautiful as how one would perceive a real life Disney princess, clad in sweeping pale pink chiffon that shimmered with every movement, hair coiled in perfect ringlets and held in place with jeweled flower hairpins. She was breathtaking.

"Well, she just walked in."

———————

You stood in the back garden, the scent of roses mixing with salt spray. Overlooking the sea, you were perched at the edge of the cliff, watching the water smash against the unmoving rocks.

You had endured as much as you possibly could. You watched them dance together, sweeping across the marble floors in perfect harmony. The first time, you'd admit it was beautiful. The second, you were clutching your drink a little tighter. The third dance had you finding solace on the balcony halfway through, picking idly at the rose petals that climbed up the trellis in thorny vines.

It was the speech that made you reach your tipping point.

Guilt swamped you – this was Chris' big moment, and you were guilty that you weren't there to celebrate it with him. As a friend does. As a friend should.

But it was so difficult, seeing him up there, with her by his side. She held herself perfectly, back straight, chin tilted, poised – regal.

Your suspicions were confirmed: Lily was perfectly suited to this world. To this life. She fit in.

And she was funny – interjecting lighthearted commentary into Chris' speech with witty remarks that didn't interrupt him nor detract from the sincerity of his words in the slightest, but sent light bubbling laughter scattering across the crowd, warming them to her presence. And after every comment like that, he would look at her with the softest of smiles, adoration etched on his face. And there were a lot of comments.

They were so perfectly charming together. You had to leave.

Your departure wasn't noticed, and your presence wasn't missed.

You had stopped a passing waiter for a glass of champagne, and made your way back to the balcony. It was there that you noticed the cliff edge, moonlight glinting off the ink spill sea.

Making your way down marble steps, the clicking of your heels signifying your descent, you found solace in the silence the grass granted your footsteps.

The hem of your long skirts dragged across the dew ridden grass, and for a moment, you could imagine that you, yourself, were a princess.

A princess without a prince.

You had no intention of doing anything rash. You just wanted to watch the waves.

And so you did, the repetitive crush of water against stone lulling you into a hypnotic state. It was calming – seeing something so constant in these turbulent times.

But as you so feared, time alone meant time to think. And the past week crashed on you, simultaneous with the dreadful depths below.

All the emotions that had been lurking, had been building up – all the emotions that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel; resentment, pain, jealousy, and above it all, heartaching love – began to bubble up in your throat, and from inside you could hear the beginning scatter of applause, and as it crescendoed into a thunder you let loose a gutwrenching scream.

You would have no indication of how far it would travel, that mournful wail of yours.

But you screamed, and screamed, your voice hoarse.

You screamed until you felt tears in your eyes.

You heard, faintly, a glass shatter, and you felt a sharp sting that almost immediately numbed itself, and still you screamed, until your throat was raw, and you could taste blood on your tongue.

Exhausted, you dropped to your knees. And still, inside, the applause continued, unconcerned with your traumas.

Breathing heavily, you came back to yourself. And when you did, pain flooded you.

Not emotional, no, that had already been carried away on the night air – leaving you numb in your bones.

But a searing, stinging pain in your hand.

In the darkness of the night, the blood looked black, rivalling the black sea. You had broken the glass in your hand with the fury of your cry, and when you turned to inspect it, little shards of glass were still seen to be peering through before being consumed by the champagne mixed gore.

"FUCK!" The word was drawn out in a wrenching croaked sob, and you held your hand before you, ripped out of your complacency with sheer agony.

You don't know how long you sat there, just staring at your hand, watching the blood trickle. All you knew was that you were shivering by the time Scarlett found you, crimson staining your dress – turning the violet to black. The smell of metal was heavy on the air, mingled with champagne and sea.

"{Your name?}" Scarlett called to you. Her muted steps were signalled by the rustling of grass as she drew closer. "{Your name}, are you..."

And then she saw your face. And then your hand. And she was sprinting to you, panic in her eyes, careless of her heels.

"Jesus fucking Christ, {your name}, are you okay? Holy shit, fuck, hold on, let's just get you–ANTHONY!"

She had landed on her knees beside you, cradling your hand as a slew of profanities left her lips before ultimately calling for assistance.

Anthony came running. "What? What is it?!" A sharp intake of breath. "What the fuck happened?"

You barely registered Anthony's suit jacket being wrapped around your shoulders. The shock had rendered you catatonic. "It was an accident," you said dumbly.

"Help me get her up, we need to get her some medical attention."

Scarlett did as instructed, their otherwise warm hands perceiving to your icy skin as scorching. When you stood, you noticed your knees were soaked through from dew, mud clinging to the now ruined dress. You felt sorrow, but that was quickly consumed by vacancy. You weren't sure what you preferred – feeling everything or nothing at all.

Anthony had his arm around your shoulder, Scarlett holding you up by the elbow of the arm that was uninjured as they guided you back inside, careful with their steps. It was a snail's pace, your legs barely working and them having to compensate for it.

"What happened?" The question on everyone's minds left Sebastian's lips.

"We don't know, we just found her like this," Anthony said. So often quick with a joke and smile, Anthony was grave in his delivery now. "Take her to a hospital, get her hand fixed up, get her home."

Sebastian nodded, sliding Anthony's blazer off of you to return it to its owner before replacing it with his own. He took you under his arm in a protective embrace. You were keeping to the edges of the party, not wanting to draw any attention. You kept your head ducked, just watching more and more blood pool in your cupped hand, watching, waiting for it to overflow, fascinated by it.

The commotion that began at your slow departure drew you out of your reverie.

Chris – having seen his friends clustered together, air clouding them tense – was stalking to where you all stood.

"What happened?" You heard again, and unfortunately not for the last time. The doctor would ask the same question a little later. "Fuck, {your name}. Let me take you home."

The way your shoulders stiffened was not lost on Anthony.

"I think you've done enough," he said coolly, holding up a hand to halt Chris' advances. "Sebastian is going to take her home, come talk to me when you've figured things out."

Chris was dumbstruck by the sudden change in demeanor. "Anthony–"

"No!" He snapped. "Tonight isn't about you. The Chris I know would've respected that."

"Not here," a strong voice interjected. You all turned to see Lily approaching the small circle that had formed around the unravelling drama. Guilt was thick in your throat. Tonight was in celebration of a fundraiser for children, and you'd single handedly ruined it. "Not tonight. Not here, not now."

She strode over to you, separating Anthony and Chris in the process. They still stared each other down.

She took a hold of your hand, surprisingly tender in direct opposition to the subdued fury in her voice. Concern overtook her as she addressed Sebastian. "You get her to a doctor, and you make sure she gets home safe."

And with one scathing gaze to the guests, the crowd dissipated.

"Lily–" Chris started, but was cut off when that same scathing look was turned on him.

"I don't know what's happening here, but fix it. Anthony is one of your best friends. So is {your name}. Remember that."

At her departure, Anthony summoned Chris outside onto the balcony to continue the conversation privately.

"I know how much she means to you, Chris. And I know I make my jokes, have my fun. You know what I think, I've never once tried to hide it. But you need to let her go. You can't have both."

And then Chris Evans – forever stoic – crumbled. His body wracked with sobs and tears fell freely down his face. Anthony pulled Chris to him, allowing his friend to cry into his shoulder. It was a hard thing to watch – a strong man falling apart.

"It just hurts so much," he garbled out, muffled by Anthony's dress shirt.

"I know it does."

A moment passed as Chris dissolved. Then, resolutely, he straightened.

"You're right," Chris breathed in deeply, gathering himself. "It's not about me."

He withdrew from Anthony, wiping the tears away quickly with his palm. And like a storm, the calm that settled was instantaneous. You would've never even known he had broken if not for the red rimming his eyes.

"Here's some great advice from a great man I once knew: you might have one thing in your head, but the things you're doing don't lead you down that road, necessarily. When you're young, you don't want to hear that. You think you can do everything, be all things."

It was cryptic, but the meaning was clear. Chris would have to choose. He couldn't be with Lily and keep you around. Not because he knew how you felt – he certainly didn't – but because of the way he did. You'd been an expert at masking your emotions, so much so that you'd shattered like that champagne flute, so desperately wanting him to be happy in spite of his choice.

"Who said that?" Chris asked, smiling mournfully. He already knew. "Shakespeare?"

"No. A much greater man. I like to keep him close when I can."

———————

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Sebastian finally said. The drive to the hospital was done in sombre silence, and, when you'd returned to his side in the waiting room, he had merely taken you under his arm again to guide you to the car. "But just know that I'm here to talk. If you want to."

"It was an accident," you said simply. And it was. Of that, you were certain. You had just gotten carried away with your release, and unfortunately, the glass was a casualty.

You watched as the lights flew past the window against which your head leaned. Sebastian didn't speak again until you were pulling up the long driveway of Chris' house. Forever Chris' house, never quite yours.

"Okay."

And that was the end of the conversation.

When you entered, Dodger immediately sensed the mood. He pushed his head into your hand, whining softly. His large, brown eyes even asked it. "What happened?"

"Hey, Dodge," you croaked. You wouldn't be surprised if your voice was gone by morning.

Sebastian helped you remove your dress, and turned his back to you while you dressed. You harshly tugged the makeup from your face single handedly with a wipe, your other hand secured in a bandage.

It wasn't until Sebastian had tucked you into bed that you asked him to stay.

You sounded so small, so childlike just then. He stared at you for the longest time, hovering between rejection and acceptance. There must've been something in your expression, a small plea reaching out for him, and he softened, a tender smile on his face.

He was reluctant, you knew that. But you selfishly didn't want to be alone, and he was there.

He kicked his shoes off, removing his tie before sliding into bed beside you.

"Tell me a story."

"I don't know many stories. I know some in Romanian from my childhood, but–"

"Tell me those."

So he did. You didn't understand a single word, but that was fine. You drifted off to sleep, Sebastian's melodic tale guiding you to rest.

And when Chris returned home later that night, he came to check on you – only to find you sleeping peacefully beside another man.

He knew then that he didn't need to make a choice; you'd already made it for him.

#dina writes #chris evans/you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #ocean eyes #anthony mackie #sebastian stan #scarlett johansson

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coping-via-clint-eastwood · 4 years ago

Text

God Help the Author - Rowdy Yates x Reader

(A/N: Here’s the original author’s note:

And I mean REALLY help - the song I listened to while writing this...is the Schindler's List theme. Help. ANYWAYS- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE GREATEST ACTOR TO EVER WALK THE EARTH!!!!! I LOVE YOU, CLINTY!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ I swear, you guys can feel the fangirling in this one.

Sooooo yeah...I wrote this on the 31st. And it JUST hit me that I should post this here before the year ends. So yeah. I’m SO sorry for not doing this much earlier...)

It was a quiet, peaceful night on the range. It was still quite early into the night, perhaps about nine o' clock, and the weather was pleasantly cool. Everybody else was getting ready to turn in for the night, with Pete and Joe taking the first watch for the night. However, Rowdy and you had other plans - it was his birthday, and you two planned to make the most of the night since you could amidst the busy life of a drover.

You were freshening up for your...date, if you could consider it that. Well, you were going to spend time together in private, so you could. Rowdy had gotten ready first and went off somewhere, stating, "I gotta do something for you first." So you took your time, patiently waiting for him.

Not too long after, he came back, holding out a bunch of fairy dusters and desert dandelions to you with one hand, his other arm at his side. "Here," he smiled sweetly.

Unable to hold back a smile yourself, you took them with both hands. "Thank you..." You admired them, turning them around so that you could see all of them.

"Beautiful flowers for an even more beautiful lady," he smiled.

You laughed shyly and playfully hit his chest, looking down at the floor to hide your blush. He chuckled fondly. "Go on, put those in water. Then we'll get going," he told you when you both calmed down. You did as he said and returned to his side. He offered you his arm and the two of you started off on your leisurely nightly stroll.

The walk was quiet; the two of you were comfortable with the companionable silence. It was nice to have some peace and solitude for once. As you walked, you two just took your time to take in the serene surroundings, cool night air, and the fact that time seemed to slow down just for the two of you. The desert mice were barely noticeable, and yet their company was not unwelcome.

Rowdy guided you along until you reached a small area of vegetation. "Here," Rowdy murmured. You understood what he meant, and walked in time with him to a clear patch of grass. He lowered himself down and pulled you after him, so that you were directly face down on top of him with his legs on either side of you, your cheek pressed into his chest and your hands on either side of your head, fisting his shirt. He had one hand on your back and the other arm was bent underneath his head, supporting it. "Mm...this is nice," Rowdy sighed, and you could feel his chest heave.

You smiled and replied softly, "Yeah."

"Can get away from it all, even if only for a while." You just smiled and listened to him with your eyes closed; you always liked listening to him, whether he was talking, singing, mumbling or even just humming. When he sang, he sounded like an angel - there was no argument about that. His normal voice was deep and gravelly - irresistible and sexy; he had a natural drawl and it was alluring and soothing. And when he laughed...oh my heart. You usually did not have time to talk like this, because Rowdy would be too busy in his drover's day, and at night he would be too tired to stay up and talk to you, save to perhaps rant to you when Gil had scolded the drovers. You always waited up for him, not even in bed yet, and you would watch him freshen up, patiently waiting - okay, yes, enjoying watching him undress and ogling his shirtless figure, his rippling chest and abdominal muscles, his bulging arm and shoulder muscles when they bunched, and his back muscles...oh boy. Anyways, enough objectifying from the author - for now - God help me.

When he was ready for bed, he would pull you down with him, just as he had done here. But he would just kiss you goodnight and crash out. Now you could chat idly for as long as you wanted. "Can spend some time with you," he said lovingly, pressing his hand into your back a bit harder for a second. That prompted you to look up at him, and you saw him smiling goofily down at you, showing his teeth.

(A/N: There was another photo I had in mind at first...but I came across @chevvyyates ‘ gif and found, as you can see, that it is sooo much better...oh God I'm dead.)

When you saw his smile, you choked and pressed your now red face back into his chest. He laughed heartily out of fondness, which only made your heart flutter even more, especially since you could feel his brawny chest moving up and down beneath you, and it was vibrating with the cheer of his voice. (A/N: Heeeeelp >////////<) He wrapped both arms around you and squeezed tight, still laughing and you still having difficulties breathing and your face still burning. When he calmed down, he pressed a delicate kiss to the top of your head. At that, you were able to take a deep breath and your face cooled. "I love you," he said earnestly.

You smiled and said, "I love you too."

He rubbed his hands up and down your back, not following any particular pattern. After a while, he said, "Beautiful," causing your cheeks to turn pink. "Look," he continued, reaching an arm out and plucking the flower nearest to his head: a purple delphinium. "All these flowers, and you're the most beautiful thing here."

Again, your breaths were restrained and laboured. "Th-thank you..." you got out meekly.

He became serious again. "It's my pleasure to say that. And I will keep saying it, because it's true. You are the most beautiful," here he kissed the top of your head, "loving," another kiss, "loveable, sweet, patient, loyal and kind woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." After every praise, he kissed you, and when he finished, he brought your face up with both hands and his lips practically collided with yours, your eyes closing along with his. You crawled slightly forwards so that you could put more pressure into the kiss, supporting yourself by putting your hands on his chest and gently pushing yourself up. (A/N: I think we all desperate to make out with him this desperately, perhaps even more so.) The kiss started out as one long, firm pressing of the lips against the other's. Then, you each began to move slowly, tilting your heads and sliding your lips. The kiss gradually got more needy, and some such sounds, some heavy breaths, panting, gasping and whimpering were emitted from the both of you. But it calmed down again, and you kissed each other languidly, your lips still sliding, but slowly. Throughout all of it, the pair of you had taken frequent short breaths.

It seemed an eternity before you completely stopped kissing, and you lay your heads back down, him on the grass with his hands on your back, and you on his chest. "I love you," he breathed one more time.

And, like always, you smiled and replied, "I love you too."

#c-v-c-e fic #clint eastwood #rowdy yates

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whengreenmeetsbrown · 4 years ago

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Hello! You asked prompts, so I'm going to give you one. So this is Wolfstar!:3 It's Sirius's birthday, but there's a full moon right on the same night, so Remus feels bad when he can't celebrate Sirius with the same energy. Idk something like this, thanks<3

Hi! Thank you for your response! So I’ll change it a bit and make Sirius’ birthday the night after the full moon. Remus must feel tired wouldn’t he? :) This is my first time attempting Wolfstar so let me know how you feel about this.

-----------

Remus woke up as the light streamed through the curtains of the window. As soon as he opened his eyes, his senses alert, his body ached. Remus groaned, clutching his head in his hands, eyes wet and hands sweaty. Becoming a werewolf was one thing, the morning after that was just awful. Awful than the night of the full moon, awful than transforming into a hideous beast. Looking around the Hospital Wing, his eyes landed on the calendar hanging beside him. November 3rd, it read.

Shit, Remus thought, its Sirius’ birthday today isn’t it. He thought about his boyfriend yesterday, trying not to look too disappointed about the fact that the werewolf might be too exhausted to enjoy the most popular boy of Hogwarts, aka Remus’ boyfriend, birthday party. I’ll try my best to remain fresh and enjoy just for Sirius. He smiled as he thought of him, his sarcastic comments, clingy attitude, fierce loyalty and of course not forgetting the fact how much of a good kisser he really-

“Awake already Mr. Lupin? It’s still 9:00 in the morning and you know you don’t have classes to attend do you?” Madam Pomfrey says, bustling in and pouring the boy a glass of water.

“Um Madam Pomfrey?”

“Yes dear?”

“Can I leave the Hospital Wing a bit early today?”

…

Hogwarts was as busy as ever, students swarming everywhere, bells ringing, indicating that the classes were starting- or finishing. Day turned into night as people from all over the castle entered the Gryffindor Tower for the famous party. Remus had an immense headache but was trying hard to smile and laugh along with his friends, who also had dark circles because of running around with Remus on the moon.

“Remus, fancy a drink?” upon hearing his name, Remus turned around, and found the birthday boy standing there with a smirk on his face.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Remus says, taking upon the offer.

“Well, people get others drunk so they can drunk snog or something. But I don’t need to do that.”

“And why’s that?” Peter piped curiously. James however covered his ears and said something about talking to Lily as he ran away.

“Because Moony will snog me if I ask him to even if he is sober.” Sirius said laughing. Remus raised his glass in reply nodding. Peter looked mortified as he scurried away.

“Are you okay Remus?” Sirius asks suddenly, concern etched upon his face.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fine.” Remus says, although he was feeling the opposite of it but did not want to ruin his boyfriend’s birthday.

Sirius smiled and gave a quick kiss. “See you in a bit then, got some guests to attend to.” With that he strutted away, leaving a laughing Remus behind.

An hour later, Remus lay on the sofa, staring at the fire. He had a splitting headache and just wanted to go to sleep. But he couldn’t, not yet. Many people had come to him, trying to communicate and Remus had tried, he really did, but now he couldn’t. Talking was a waste of energy right now, and Remus was slowly running out of it.

He kept his drinking pace slow, not wanting a hangover right after the full moon. Merlin curse that moon, Remus thought bitterly, as he watched his friends enjoying the night. James was dancing with Lily, Peter was talking animatedly to Alice and Sirius had dozens of girls surrounding him, talking one to a dozen.

He looks uncomfortable, Remus thought. And sure enough, when their eyes met, Sirius silently cried for help. The werewolf sighed and stood up, walking to the group.

“Excuse me ladies. But can I borrow my boyfriend now? You’ve had your turn.” he said, emphasizing the word ‘boyfriend’ clearly. They stared at him in disgust but let Sirius out.

“Thank you O’ wise one, my superhero!” Sirius cries out dramatically as he hugs Remus.

“Yeah yeah. No worries.” He says, instantly feeling the warmth from him, wanting nothing but to kiss him. But he had to wait, for now.

“Go enjoy your birthday. Get drunk and stuff, call me if you need help.”

Sirius stared at him strangely but obeyed. Remus feels bad, bad that he can’t join Sirius. He wants to, he really does, but his body hurts and his headache isn’t getting better with all this noise and music.

Sirius appears again. “Drink with me Moony. Please!” he says, making puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry Pads; I’ve had enough for the night. And besides, when you all get drunk, I’ll have to handle you guys.”

He looks hurt. “But you drank with me last-“

Then he stops and turns away leaving a sorrowful Remus behind.

…

The party’s over and as always, Remus is the one to clean it all. Lily is usually with him but tonight she’s drunk as hell and currently snoring alongside Prongs.

As he lay down, waiting for Sirius to come from the bathroom, he feels sleepy. But he couldn’t sleep yet, not until he apologized to his boyfriend.

Sirius came and lay down, quiet as a mouse.

“Pads.” Remus says, not bothering to whisper as there is no one with them.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“For what?” Sirius says his eyes cast downward.

“For not having the energy to properly enjoy your birthday. This full moon is so-“

“I know Moony. No harm done.”

A silence is formed, an uncomfortable one at that. Remus can’t stand that anymore so he does something. He kisses Sirius. And he responds back, intervening their fingers and sighing. It’s a slow and tender kiss and Remus wants to put everything he wants to say in this. Sirius seems to understand.

“I know, it’s not your fault, it’s the moon’s fault.” He says, as they cuddle, coming to an understanding Remus knew they would.

#prompts #harry potter fanfiction #jily #wolfstar #i havent ever written wolfstar so

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d3-iseefire · 5 years ago

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Alright I'm jumping on the prompt idea!! Maybe a shapeshifter Bilba au?

Here you go! You didn’t specify what she shifted into and I’ve actually always wanted to do a Modern AU Werewolf Bilba so that’s where I went! I hope you like it! :D

(I even did a mood board cause I provide full service! Granted, it’s not a GREAT mood board cause I’m not very good at them, but still!). :D

Hobbit Modern AU / Werewolf Snippet

Bilba tried to make it to the end of class, she really did. It was her last class of the day. All she had to do was get through, meet everyone in the parking lot and go home.

She tried.

Even as the professor’s words lost their meaning and faded to a dull drone, even as the nausea got so bad she was afraid to move lest she embarrass herself in front of the entire class.

Her seat was on the bottom row of the amphitheater, a fact that had never bothered her before today. Now, suddenly, she was painfully aware of an entire classroom full of people behind her, surrounding her on all sides, able to see her when she couldn’t see them in return.

Her breathing was rapid, and shallow, and her heart was racing in her chest. Black spots danced in her vision and her fingers beat a rapid, staccato beat on the desktop.

It’s okay, she told herself firmly. You’re okay. Just relax. Just relax, it’s fine.

Her vision blurred and she resisted the urge to pull at the collar of her shirt as sudden heat washed over her.

Bilba? The voice in her head caused her to jump in her desk, gaining her a look of disapproval from the professor. Are you all right?

Kili. He was all the way in the back of the class, on the top tier. For him to have noticed something wrong...

I need to leave, she said tightly. I need to go.

All right, he sent back. Give me a second and --

Bilba shook her head and, suddenly, just like that, she needed to go.

She was out of her seat before she’d even registered it, standing up so fast she sent her chair clattering to the floor behind her.

Dimly, she was aware of the professor speaking to her, of Kili in her head, but it was all just nonsense, barely audible through the screaming in her mind.

RUN.

She ran.

Her hands hit the bar of the door and she shoved it open hard enough to send it crashing against the opposite wall.

Then she was outside where the sky was just beginning to dim and a light fog had moved in over the grounds. There was a noticeable chill to the air that brought with it the scent of the trees and earth and outside.

The barest, barest hint of rationality tried to thread its way in, but Bilba was too far gone for it to reach. She lengthened her stride from fast to nearly unnatural. It would draw attention, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Just past the library, she could see the line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest the university had been built next to. It was why they’d chosen this place to begin with, the ability to have the woods right there, practically at their beck and call.

As much as the wild could be at anyone’s beck and call.

She passed the first row of trees and the change came on almost without her noticing. One minute she was running, mentally chafing as her spirit literally tried to outrun her body, and the next she was changing. Fur, the same dark auburn as her hair sprang out along her arms and legs. Her limbs lengthened, and the gloom of the forest vanished as her human vision gave way to eyes that could see in the dark.

A nearly hysterical laugh turned into a howl as four legs took the place of two, the cold vanished under thick fur, and then she was running.

She gave no thought to where she was going, only to how fast she could get there. The landscape rushed past her in a blur as she darted between trees and boulders and leapt over streams.

It felt like ages before her energy began to wind down, and her senses started to return. She didn’t slow, however, because it was only then that she realized she had a shadow.

She could see him, flickering in and out among the trees, duplicating her movements.

Go away, she ordered. Her nerves were still on edge. She could still feel panic bubbling just under the surface of her skin. She wanted to be left alone.

Better idea, he returned. How about you stop running?

Bilba’s only response was to run faster.

She hit the base of a rocky slope and scrambled up it. At the top she finally paused at the sight of a large, open clearing, filled with thick grass and dotted with flowers. Insects buzzed merrily about and birdsong rang from where the treeline started up again on the far side.

For the first time since all of this had started a feeling of peace swept over her. Her muscles began to relax and Bilba sagged in relief as her heart began to slow. Her legs were trembling from exertion and her sides heaved as she panted for air. It took a lot to tire out a werewolf, just how far had she run?

She spotted an outcropping of rock forming a natural, shallow cave, and headed toward it. She could curl up in a ball there and no one and nothing could touch her. She could rest.

The fur on her neck rose and she tensed at the feeling of a presence behind her. She spun, growl at the ready, and paused at the sight of a massive, coal black wolf cresting the slope behind her.

Go away, she ordered. She spun back around, but had barely taken two steps when she found her way blocked by the black wolf towering over her.

Get out of my way, she demanded, baring her teeth.

Enough, he retorted. You’ve been running all night.

She had not. It -- she looked around and, for the first time noticed it was getting lighter rather than darker as it had been the last time she’d been aware.

Had she really run all night?

She shook her head and tried to move past him again, only to jump back in surprise as he jumped forward and snapped his teeth at her. Damn it, Bilba. I said stop.

He must have somehow read the hurt on her face because she heard him sigh in her mind. He stepped away and then his body was shifting, and elongating. Fur vanished, four feet became two arms and two legs and then the wolf was gone and it was Fili standing in front of her, looking down.

The wolf in her reacted and Bilba lunged at him. He hit the ground on his back and she straddled him, baring her teeth near the hollow of his throat. He tilted his chin back, exposing his neck, and reached up a hand to lightly stroke along the side of her head and ear. “Hey, it’s all right.”

Bilba flinched and pulled back.

What was she doing?

She shifted, forcibly pushing the wolf away, and then she was straddling her husband in the middle of the forest wearing nothing but her bra and underwear.

Bilba gaped down at her body.

They were taught as children, children, how to retain their clothing during shifts. She hadn’t lost so much as a shoe in years and now she’d lost almost her entire outfit?

Damn it, that had been her favorite shirt.

“Come on.” Fili moved, and she didn’t resist as he nudged her back and repositioned them so he was sitting up and she was straddling his legs. “Hey, are you all right?”

When she didn’t answer, he shrugged out of the button down plaid he was wearing and draped it across her shoulders. The second he did Bilba grabbed it, threaded her arms through the sleeves and started buttoning it up. The entire time she kept her head down and her gaze focused somewhere around her husband’s waistline.

Once she had the shirt done up, she grabbed his hand and pressed it to the slight bulge in her stomach, feeling her body relax as she did. “You remember how your mother said it was tradition for female wolves to carry out confine themselves to the den for the duration of their pregnancies?”

“Hmmm,” he said. He leaned back one one hand, keeping his other in place on her stomach. “And you said something about it being an archaic, sexist tradition?”

Bilba flinched and her shoulders sagged. She had been that harsh, hadn’t she? She reached up to wipe at an errant tear, only for him to catch her hand and press his lips to her knuckles. The contact brought an even greater sense of peace and she sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t so archaic after all.”

He chuckled. “Panicked did you?” When she didn’t respond he sat up and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close. “Bilba, listen to me. You’re a predator who also happens to be pregnant. That makes you vulnerable, and it makes perfect sense that the wolf inside you would want to be as safe as possible.”

“Which means staying near my pack,” Bilba mumbled, “and my mate.”

Fili bounced his legs, and she lifted her head to glare at him only to have him lean forward and kiss her. She dug her hands into her forearms and leaned.

“I’m sorry,” he said a few moments later, pulling away and resting his forehead against her. “I shouldn’t have gone to that study group.”

“Yes, you should have,” Bilba said. It wasn’t like he’d abandoned her. Kili had been there after all. “I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” She scowled. “Your mother is never going to let me live it down.”

Fili laughed. “My Mom loves you, she’ll only hold it over your head at holidays and birthdays.”

Bilba gave a weak smile and settled more onto his lap. “What am I going to do? I can’t even go to class without panicking.”

She didn’t even want to think how to try and explain how she’d acted in class and outside. They’d probably label her a freak.

“We’ll make sure more pack members are around you,” Fili said, moving his hands to rest on her hips. “They can audit your classes. I’ll be there as much as I can too.

“This seems to help too,” Bilba said absently, tugging at his flannel. “I may just have to start wearing your clothes.”

Fili grinned brilliantly. “You cannot begin to imagine how little problem I have with that.”

“We should get back.” Her last words were cut off with a yawn and Bilba shook her head in a futile attempt to wake herself up. Running all night was really catching up with her. “Everyone will be worried.”

“We aren’t getting back anytime soon.” Fili gently slid her off his legs and onto the ground before laying down next to her on his side. Bilba immediately scooted up as close to him as she could and looped an arm around his waist. “We might as well take a nap first.”

BIlba nodded, already half asleep. She felt him slide his arm under his head and took the opportunity to snuggle in even closer.

Her last thought was that, as soon as winter break arrived, she was dragging her husband’s clothes, and her husband, to bed and keeping them there until the next term started.

It’d allow her to rest, and avoid having to hear Dis say, “I told you so” at the same time.

Perfect.

#Writing Wednesday #Hobbit #The Hobbit #Fili #Female Bilbo Baggins #LOTR #Tolkien

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imaginejamesandsirius · 6 years ago

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Hiya! I'm not sure if I'm doing this write but here's a prompt I was going to write but got too lazy: Sirius going into Slytherin, either because he can't talk the sorting hat out of it or he owes it to Regulus or something and then James goes into Slytherin too because of Sirius. It can be as long or short as you want, really you don't have too. Thank you so much! I love Imagine James And Sirius

((Note: Black-typical child abuse references))

The younger Potters’ house, a small stone built cottage, comfortable for three, or five at most, sitting snugly in Aberdeenshire countryside not so far from the Potter Manse, is filled to bursting with guests, all there to celebrate Harry’s thirteenth birthday. Most of them are packed into the living room, perched on the arms of chairs and sitting in small heaps on the floor, and many are laughing at a story Fred and George Weasley have just finished telling about their misadventures with a ghoul. It’s a new story for Harry, and he laughs until he ribs hurt.

His dads are both smiling at him fondly, James from in front of the fireplace, a glass of firewhisky in his hand and looking strikingly like Fleamont with the flames throwing shadows over his dark brown skin, and Sirius from the floor at his feet, head thrown back to look up at him, his grey eyes full of mirth. Harry likes seeing them like this, happy and without restraint, but it doesn’t stop the groan leaving his mouth when Hermione sees the affectionate glances they share and decides to ask;

“How did you meet, Mr. Potter?”

Neither seem sure who she’s asking, but that has never stopped either of them. It’s a tale Harry has heard so many times before, and James always starts it the way he does now.

“Well, Hermione, you see, everyone always thinks we met on the Hogwarts Express, like yourself and Ron and Harry, or at the moments after our Sortings, but it was not some meeting of eyes across a train carriage or a crowed Great Hall, and knowing we’d found our forever best friends. We met before that. My parents liked to take me to parties they thought would be beneficial to me, so I would know some my classmates, and it was at Regulus’s-”

Here he pauses to wink at his brother in law, like Hermione might not recognise him, despite the uncanny similarity he has to Sirius. Regulus rolls his eyes, having heard this even more times than Harry, and goes back to drinking his wine.

“Seventh birthday party, I think, eighth maybe, that I met Sirius. And yes, I did know I’d marry him someday.”

“But Mr. Potter-”

“Call him James, Hermione, otherwise it gets confusing.”

“Yes Mr. Potter – I mean Sirius. But weren’t you only nine or ten?”

“Absolutely,” James says with a grin, and continues his story.

He did not know the quiet boy with the mischievous glint in his pretty grey eyes would one day be his husband, but looking back, James could say he wanted it, even then.

The night was cold and dark, the stars twinkling high in the sky like crystals thrown wide, stuck there eternally. James looked at them and pulled his heavy woollen cloak closer as he and his parents made their way up to the imposing door to number 12 Grimmauld Place. He had no idea why Euphemia and Fleamont were making him go, why they were even going themselves; he’d heard them complain on more than one occasion that the Blacks were awful blood purists and racists to boot. Yet they’d insisted there would be many children here tonight that would be in James’s year at school, children he should get to know sooner rather than later, and so here they were, despite James’s protests.

The front door swung open just as Fleamont’s knuckles made to knock, the woman behind it wearing a fake smile nearly as obvious as her deep red lipstick. By her side was a small boy, dark and sullen looking, half hiding behind his long black hair and half behind his mother. James smiled at him, his lumos smile Euphemia called it, bright enough to lift a whole room. The boy shot him a dirty look, full of sneering disgust, and James could only hope this was the birthday boy and not the brother he’d may or may not be sharing a dormitory with in the near future.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter. And this must be little James!” Mrs. Black welcomed them, her tone as false and bright as her smile. James’s parents smiled back, equally fake and James found himself wondering yet again why they’d come here.

Once inside, an old house elf, twisted and gnarled like an ancient tree, look their cloaks and immediately vanished with them, muttering something about foreign blood under his breath. Affronted, James looked to his parents, but they were still exchanging pleasantries with the Blacks and hadn’t noticed the rude little elf. As long as the older brother wasn’t as sullen as the younger – Regulus, he remembered suddenly – nor as subversive as the elf.

As his parents talked and talked, and Regulus hid further and further into his mother’s skirts, James took the time to look around the house. It wasn’t anything like the Manse, not with its enormous stair ways and wide halls, but looking up the staircase, James guessed it might be of a similar size overall, he couldn’t even see where the stairs ended, up and up, round and round. His eyes followed the banister, trying to find the end, and instead, near what James could only assume had to be the very top of the stairs, he found a face looking down at him, nearly identical to the ones in front of him, except for in place of derision, there was an emotion James knew far better; mischief.

The shark’s grin on his sharp, surprisingly pretty, face was unmistakable even from such distance as he lifted what looked like some kind of ball, heavy and wobbly like jelly over the banister. He caught sight of James, pointed towards the ball, and winked. He knew where this was going and flattened himself against the wall by the stairs, hitting his head on some knife edged plaque, displaying what he thought might be a house elf’s head. The boy on the stairs, who could only be Sirius, dropped the ball silently and hid down behind the banister as it fell, almost in slow motion, towards the dark green carpet.

Walburga Black let out a scream of rage like no other James had ever heard as the ball exploded upon impact with the ground, releasing a wave of foul smelling green slime that splattered Mrs. Black, the whole hallway, and many of her guests, drowning out the sound of his laughter. Any humour he might have felt, and he’d felt rather a lot of it, vanished with the sound, and the look of fury that twisted Walburga’s face, dark grey eyes immediately going to exactly where Sirius had been standing. Most of the guests were making horrified noises themselves, trying to wipe slime from their robes and hair and glasses; they all stopped at the sound of Mrs. Black screaming her elder son’s name.

“Walburga,” Mr. Black hissed, “Do not cause a scene.” He went back to making placating noises at his guests, saying how sorry he was, how much of accident it must have been, but all eyes were on Mrs. Black now as she positively flew up the stairs.

James had expected to dislike the Blacks, even to hate them, but he hadn’t expected the fear that gripped him as it did then the closer Walburga got to her elder son. He had never even spoken to the other boy, yet somehow he felt the need to protect him from his mother’s rage, a need he would find would never go away.

“Mum,” he said, almost a whisper, certainly desperate. Euphemia looked at him, covered from head to toe in dark green as she was, and there was irritation in her face, but also understanding. She shook her head.

The party ended not long after that, though Cygnus managed to clean everyone and everything with just a command to his house elf, supremely apologetic and offering everyone, including James a large glass of champagne to wash off the memory. The Potters might even have stayed had Walburga not come down the stairs moments later, looking completely unruffled bar the small stain of blood on her left sleeve.

James thought of Sirius often after that, though it was a long time before he saw him again. He thought of the mischievous grin, the pretty face, the almond shaped eyes now he couldn’t remember the colour of; were they brown, blue? Hazel, likes James? He couldn’t remember much, except that he wanted to see him again.

The McKinnon’s Christmas parties were legendary, or so Fleamont decided when he announced they would be attending the affair one afternoon in the early winter before James turned eleven. He’d been to plenty pureblood parties since the one for Regulus’s birthday and now, and yet he’d never once seen Sirius again, much to his disappointment. He’d heard his name plenty times though, in the whisperings of other children and parents. The party had left the Blacks veritable pariahs, what with the mess they’d made, and the overreaction of Walburga, but the wedding of Bellatrix Black and Rodolpus Lestrange had managed to lessen the effects somewhat, and James was finally getting his chance to see Sirius again. Euphemia and Fleamont both seemed a little perplexed by their son’s reaction to getting to see a boy he had never technically met, yet they said nothing.

The ballroom at the McKinnon’s town house was decorated all in gold and green, matching the dress Mrs. McKinnon wore when she led them into the room. There was so much to look at from the enormous tree with tiny green fairies fluttering about it to the small gaggle of children at the top end of the room, most familiar now from all the parties. Marlene was there looking pretty as ever in a glittery gold dress that matched her hair, but James’s eyes skittered over her and the other children there.

Grey. Sirius’s eyes were grey, James realised when his gaze landed on the other boy. He didn’t even realise he was walking towards him, grin on his face, until he was before the other boy, holding out his hand.

“I’m James Potter.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, amusement clear in his eyes, but took James hand anyway and shook it once. “Sirius Black.”

“I know. I saw you at your brother’s party.”

Sirius grinned at the mention of the party. “That was good wasn’t it. I remember your face.”

“Your dad gave me champagne,” James told him.

Sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly but his grin stayed in place. “He does that. Wanna see if we can make the tree fairies start screaming?”

The boy Sirius had been talking to balked at that, his mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish stuck in a too-small bowl. “I-I-Well I don’t think you should-”

“Maybe if we spin them?” James asked, and led the way over to the tree, glancing over his shoulder to check Sirius was following.

They did manage to get the fairies to scream, and to turn all the green baubles red, and to make the tinsel slither around the guests throats like snakes. After the look of rage on Walburga’s face when a tinsel snake wrapped a touch too tight around her neck, the two boys ran as fast as their gangly legs would carry them out the ballroom, down a spiral set of stairs and out into the garden, cold biting at James’s cheeks as soon as he set foot outside. For a moment they stood still and silent in the dark garden until a burst of laughter bubbled from Sirius’s lips.

His laugh was deep and throaty, and James decided then it was the best sound he would ever hear. He couldn’t help they way he joined in until they were both gasping for breath, gripping onto each other’s shoulders.

“Did you see mum’s face?” Sirius asked between bursts of laughter. “She’s gonna be so angry.”

“Not as angry as the fairies!”

“Or indeed the McKinnons.” The sound of his father’s voice didn’t stop James’s laughter, yet suddenly Sirius was standing straight, no humour in his face, only defiance.

“Who’re you?” Sirius snapped, glaring at Fleamont.

“That’s my dad,” James said when he’d collected himself enough.

“Indeed.” Fleamont’s eyes met Sirius’s for a moment, as if Sirius was sizing him up. Fleamont didn’t even look properly angry, just annoyed.

“James, we’re leaving.” He waved off James’s protests and ushered his son out the door, abandoning Sirius in the garden.

Just as they were getting ready to apparate home from the front of the house, Sirius appeared and grabbed James’s sleeve.

“Mum won’t let me go to any more parties now. You’ll be at Hogwarts with me though, I’ll see you there?”

The boy looked worried almost as he examined James’s face. Merlin’s beard, he really was so pretty.

“Of course, Sirius,” James said. “We’re friends.”

From that night, James and Sirius began to write to each other, and though they didn’t see each other again until they met on the Hogwarts Express, they quickly became close friends. They planned pranks and wrote of the Quidditch stars they’d be, of how they’d rule the world.

When it came to their Sorting, there was no doubting they’d be in the same house. Sirius would go first, being a Black, and James would follow him anywhere, same as Sirius would have.

The house shouted, “Slytherin,” nearly as soon as it touched Sirius’s head, and James had no fear when he sat on the stool.

“Want to be in Slytherin, ey?” the hat said in his ear. “All for that boy? Gryffindor would suit you better.”

“I want to be with Sirius.” James thought.

The hat laughed, all unsettling but shouted “Slytherin!” all the same.

Sirius grinned and hugged him tight when he slipped into the seat beside him.

“Told you we’d be together,” James told him. He’d known since they’d first met, of course.

James grins as finishes his story, stopping only briefly to press a kiss to Sirius’s lips. Harry rolls his eyes at their affecting.

“So you should’ve been in Gryffindor then, Mr. Potter?” Hermione asks. Harry has never thought about that before, about how his dad could’ve been in his house. Or maybe if he had been, Harry wouldn’t exist at all.

“Never,” his dad says. “I was meant to be where Sirius was.”

#fanfic #prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #filled #established relationship #married #no voldemort au #slytherin james #slytherin sirius #raising harry #post hogwarts #andromedablacc #Anonymous

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