#[chanting softly to myself] finished is better than perfect! finished is better than perfect! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

withacapitalp · 2 years

Note

75 or 25 with Steddie for the writing prompts?

Me, chanting to myself: Write something short, Write something short, Write something short

Myself @ Me: Lol bet

Read it on ao3 here

25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!”

“I love getting to show people my favorite movie, but I have to admit, I’m much much happier to have your pretty face all to myself,” Eddie chuckled, shutting the door of the trailer behind the last of the kids. He leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath in and closing his eyes. The whole place was warm in the best way possible, and the smell of fresh baked sweets was still hanging in the air.

Movie night was his favorite.

They had a very strict schedule for biweekly movie nights, a structured routine that Nancy had come up with to keep any and all arguments at bay. With the system working, everyone got to pick once every six weeks. Not ideal, but the closest to fair that things would get.

The best part was, Steve had decided to make a whole evening of it when he realized it was finally Eddie’s turn to choose. He spent hours cooking a nice meal for everyone, finishing it off with Labyrinth themed cupcakes for them to enjoy. He even used glass marbles as decorations, making the frosting look just like Sarah’s infamous dress.

Sure, Steve had fallen asleep halfway through, completely tuckered out from all the work he put into making things perfect, but somehow that only added to the charm of the moment. Eddie couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than having his boyfriend’s head in his lap while they watched a movie surrounded by their family. He had been excited for Steve to finally see his favorite movie, but things were best this way.

Well, he could think of one or two things that might make the night even better.

However, any intentions Eddie had of moving things to the bedroom died the second he got a good look at Steve.

His boyfriend didn’t just look tired, he was exhausted. Steve’s face was drawn in a stressed frown, and he was leaning his elbows heavily against his knees as he stared vacantly at the floor between his feet.

“What’s goin’ on, Sunshine? Still tired?” Eddie hummed, walking over and leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

But the second Eddie got close, Steve took a sharp breath in, pulling away like he had just been electrocuted. He got up and began to pace, running his hands anxiously through his hair and avoiding looking in his boyfriend’s direction.

“Steve?” Eddie said softly, watching him with wide nervous eyes. All of the happiness that had been filling him was leaking out like a balloon, a foreboding worry sliding into its place.

Steve paused, his entire body growing stiffer the longer he stayed silent. The tension was killing him, but just as Eddie went to break it, his boyfriend spoke first.

“I think we should break up,” Steve said in a rush, keeping his body turned away from Eddie.

“Hilarious, Harrington,” Eddie replied with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the stone that was starting to sink his stomach into the ground, “What’s actually going on?”

“We need to break up,” Steve repeated sternly, whipping around so they were face to face. His eyes were sparking and his jaw was set, but Eddie could see the growing shine in his eyes, and the way Steve’s hands were shaking.

He looked two seconds from completely falling apart, and Eddie didn’t have a single clue why.

“You’re serious,” Eddie stated.

“Yes,” Steve said, crossing his arms and clenching his fists to hide the tremors that Eddie had already seen.

Eddie had never been very good at school, but that didn’t really mean a damn when it came to being intelligent. He sucked at sitting still, and he couldn’t care less about subjects that weren’t interesting, but Eddie was smart as a whip when he wanted to be.

When it was something he cared about, Eddie made a point to know anything and everything he could, and he cared about Steve more than he had ever cared about anything in his life.

Shaking hands. Glassy eyes. ‘Need to’ instead of ‘want to’.

Hm.

Well, wasn't that interesting?

“Need to,” Eddie scoffed, striding past Steve. He flipped his hair casually, yanking the fridge open and rooting around in it, “Do you have some sort of explanation as to why?”

He heard Steve take a breath in, but Eddie interrupted it by throwing a beer can behind him, listening to Steve fumble with it for a second.

“Because this morning you were telling me that you’ve never been happier,” Eddie growled, cracking open his own beer with a hiss and gulping down half the can, “and now you’re saying you want to break up. Oh, no, I’m sorry- you’re saying that we need to break up.”

Steve was back to avoiding eye contact, but Eddie wasn’t having that. He crossed the room in three steps, getting in Steve’s face and practically losing it when Steve brushed past him and went to walk away. Steve knew that Eddie hated when people walked away from him. He knew that.

“I- I just wanna, okay?” Steve stammered, putting the can on the table by the door and reaching for the handle, “Look it was fun but-”

“No,” Eddie snapped, shutting the door just as Steve began to open it.

“No?” Steve said.

“No,” Eddie agreed, putting his foot down metaphorically and his back against the door literally. “Not unless you tell me why,”

Tell me why you’re doing this when you don’t want to?

Tell me what happened to make you think this was okay?

…Tell me why I’m not good enough?

“Because I fell asleep,” Steve muttered, self-hatred oozing from every word.

What?!

That was the big reason? That made no sense. They fell asleep watching movies all the time. Eddie had fallen asleep watching a movie two days ago.

“You fell asleep watching Labyrinth…and you want to break up over that?” Eddie sneered.

“That’s only part of it,” Steve sighed, “You wouldn’t understand,”

“Then please, enlighten me oh great King Steve,” Eddie snarled, hating the way Steve flinched away from him, “What exactly did I do?”

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Steve instantly shot back, both of them cringing at his word choice, “No I- god that sounds stupid. I’m-”

Steve cut himself off with a groan, hands back in his hair, pulling in a way that couldn’t have felt good. It took everything Eddie had to not reach over and take Steve’s hands in his own to stop him.

“I’m not good enough for you! Okay?” Steve exploded, his voice cracking even as he continued to try and mask his pain with anger. “I’m not good enough for you, and so I want to break up. That’s it.”

“I can’t believe this,” Eddie said, scoffing, “Steve Harrington, the golden boy of Hawkins is saying that he isn’t good enough for drug dealing trailer park trash Eddie Munson?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Steve snapped automatically.

“In what world are you not good enough for me?!” Eddie shouted, grabbing Steve’s wrists in an iron grip and tugging his boyfriend close. They were nose to nose, and Steve, who had always been an open book, was telling Eddie everything.

The anger was gone, resignation taking its place. Steve tugged ever so slightly against Eddie, and he let him go, following the other boy as he walked towards the couch.

“In what world? This one,” Steve said softly, practically collapsing against the cushions. “Eddie, no one thinks I’m right for you. Your bandmates, Wayne… not even the kids,”

The kids?

Eddie’s brain was flying in a million different directions, and he couldn’t remember anything that anyone had said no matter how hard he tried. Steve hadn’t even been awake for most of it, he only woke up at the end to say goodbye to everyone. The kids had teased him a little for falling asleep, maybe joked that Steve must have thought the movie wasn’t that good, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Nothing that should have caused Steve to go this off the rails.

“Steve-”

“And they’re right, Eddie. They’re right,” Steve said, laughing incredulously, “I mean, why do you even wanna be with me? I can’t go to your shows-”

“Because you have PTSD from saving the world four times,” Eddie interrupted.

“-And I can’t listen to your music-” Steve continued.

“-because you have tinnitus from, oh yeah, saving the world four times!” Eddie pushed.

“Don’t use that as an excuse! Just- let me talk. Please?” Steve said, his eyes glistening as he begged Eddie to stop.

“Fine,” Eddie said, crossing his arms and sitting back, staring at Steve. The younger boy took a steadying breath, gathering both his thoughts and his courage.

“It’s everything,” Steve said, shrugging helplessly as he looked down, “I don’t understand dungeons and dragons, I get bored reading Lord of the Rings, and tonight I fell asleep watching your favorite movie. The kids were just being little assholes, but they’re right. It was crazy for us to think this was ever going to work. Why are we even together if we don’t like any of the same things? Why do you want to be with someone who doesn’t care enough about the things you love?”

“Stevie,” Eddie breathed, unable to understand how things had gotten this twisted in his boy’s mind, “Baby,”

“You said you’d let me talk.” Steve said over him, stopping Eddie’s protest in its tracks, “It’s just… Eventually you’re gonna realize that we have nothing in common. And when the novelty wears off, you’ll be bored,”

Bored?

Bored of the most wonderful person Eddie had ever gotten the pleasure of knowing?

“You’re gonna get tired of explaining things to me and you’re gonna find someone who your friends can actually stand being around without rolling their eyes every two minutes. You’re going to find someone better and- and you deserve that. You deserve a person who can cheer you on at your shows, who can scream along to your music when you’re driving. Someone who your uncle approves of,” Steve said, intentionally treading right on one of the sorest spots in their relationship.

Wayne was still wary of Steve, still overprotective. Eddie had thought that his boyfriend understood that it wasn't really about him, that Wayne just needed more time to figure out what Eddie already knew- Steve would never hurt him. Never.

Well, except for right now. Right now he was breaking Eddie’s heart right in half.

“You’re gonna figure out what everyone else already gets,” Steve whispered, his voice barely audible as his arms squeezed tight around his middle.

“And what’s that?” Eddie muttered dully, feeling a hollow ache start to grow in his chest. Steve’s lip curled in the worst smile Eddie had ever seen, wobbling as he began to blink rapidly.

“You’re gonna realize that beyond being a pretty face with a fancy house, and a nice car, and a hard head, I don’t bring anything to the table,” Steve admitted, with a tiny shrug, “I’m not really anything special, and you deserve someone special. So why don’t we both just cut our losses, huh? Before either of us gets too deep,”

Before they got too deep.

Eddie was already in the Marianas fucking Trench.

He was drowning in Steve Harrington, surrounded by icy black water that was burning his eyes and making it impossible to breathe. There was no way to come up for air, no rope to tug to be pulled up. Eddie was as deep as he could go, and he was finally seeing the Kraken that was looming over both of them.

Steve didn’t want to break up.

He wanted to be noble.

And that thought was the thing that pissed Eddie off more than anything.

“Nothing,” Eddie spat out, the word feeling poisonous just sitting on his tongue, too bitter to be spoken, “You think that you’re nothing?”

Steve dragged a breath in, the first few tears managing to slip past his defenses. He hadn’t said those exact words, but Eddie had, and they sat in the air and cut them both to the core.

“If that’s really all you were, then you’re right. We should break up,” Eddie said.

Steve let out the softest pain-filled noise Eddie had ever heard, moving to stand up, to walk out of Eddie’s life without so much as a goodbye.

Unfathomable. Unimaginable. Unacceptable.

Eddie latched his hand around Steve’s bicep, not just pulling him down, but also pulling him in. Their foreheads nearly knocked together as Eddie’s dark almost jet black eyes locked onto Steve’s.

“But you are not nothing, Steve Harrington. You are everything,” Eddie whispered harshly, his breath ghosting over Steve’s lips. He raised one hand and cupped Steve’s cheek, watching his fingers as they shook in anger.

“Eddie,” Steve pleaded, but Eddie just shook his head.

“No. I let you talk. Now it’s your turn to listen,” He ordered, keeping a tight grip on Steve, making sure there was no way he could wriggle away or look down.

“You really think that I give a single fuck what everyone else thinks?” Eddie asked rhetorically, barking out a harsh laugh, “I have spent my entire life bucking tradition and spitting in the face of what society says I should want. Dating you might be the most metal thing I’ve ever done, Sweetheart,”

A brief barely there smile flitted across Steve’s face, and a jagged part of Eddie’s soul smoothed out. His boy was still there, his sunshine, his sweetheart. He was just hiding, trying to protect himself in the worst way possible.

“I adore getting to explain things to you. Do you even get how much fun it is to tell you every single thing and know that you’re listening? You always ask me the coolest questions, give me the best ideas for potential plot holes.”

Eddie let his eyes slip shut, seeing the two of them in his mind. They were sitting together in Steve’s plaid monstrosity of a bedroom. Eddie was lying flat on his back on the floor, and Steve was on his stomach on the bed, listening with a look of pure adoration, holding his chin up on his palm as he watched Eddie’s arms swing to and fro in the air while he described the plan for the next Hellfire campaign.

“You think I’m gonna get bored of you? Stevie, we could spend a thousand years together, and I’d still say I didn��t get enough time. I don’t get how you don’t see everything you do for me. No, you don’t come to my shows, but you make me snacks before every rehearsal, and stay up late to listen to me talk about the gig after. You can’t listen to my music, but you got me the new Dio album the day it came out just because you knew I’d like it.”

Dream Evil. It was sitting in the case just across the room, proudly displayed next to a dozen other albums Steve had gotten for him, Just because. He was always doing that, getting Eddie little gifts just because.

“You try so damn hard. Wayne’s still scared you’re gonna hurt me, and I know that’s upsetting, but you still don’t stop trying to get him to see how much you care.” Eddie breathed, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie knew he was going to have to talk to Wayne. Rather, he was going to have to argue with Wayne, because this really couldn’t go on anymore. The first few weeks it had been understandable, but they had been dating for almost three months now, and Steve was still getting the cold shoulder. Steve had said he was fine, that he understood, but Eddie could see how he let things go too far. He was not going to lose Steve just because his uncle was afraid.

But that wasn’t something he could fix now. Now he just had to keep talking. Eddie wasn’t good at much, but he was good at running his mouth, and he would talk for as long as it took to get this through his boyfriend’s beautiful thick skull.

“I think that might be the thing I adore most about you, you know? You never stop trying. No matter what happens, no matter how many times you get knocked down, you keep trying,” A smooth stone slid down Eddie’s throat, blocking the river of words. He swallowed around it, forcing himself to keep going.

“You brought me back from the fucking dead, Steve,” Eddie whispered, feeling the scars on his sides practically sing in harmony, “Everyone else gave up, and you kept going. They were trying to drag you off of me, and you kept going. You barely even knew me.”

Steve jerked away, moving just enough so he could bury his face in Eddie’s shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around Eddie’s middle and digging his fingers into his shirt.

“Couldn’t. Couldn’t leave you there,” Steve managed to choke out, practically in Eddie’s lap, “Not there. Not like that,”

“I know. I know,” Eddie soothed, holding his boyfriend close, “See? That’s you. That’s always been you. You saved my life because you’re you, and you never give up.”

Eddie lowered his voice bringing his mouth right next to Steve’s ear and loving the shiver that he could feel running down Steve’s spine.

“You never give up. So why the fuck are you giving up on me right now, Baby?”

Steve let out a strangled little gasp at that, clinging onto Eddie even tighter. He shook, silently falling apart in Eddie’s arms.

“Oh, angel,” Eddie murmured, holding them both together. Steve had done this for him a thousand times, soothed every nightmare, eased every panic attack. It was finally Eddie’s turn to do the same.

He had never realized how much it hurt to be on this side of things.

“Steve?” Eddie said, grabbing the other boy’s attention when he thought the worst of it was over, “You aren’t perfect. Not by a longshot. You get distracted easily, you can’t remember to turn on the dishwasher, you are stubborn as the day is long, you have a tendency to only listen to people who don’t care about you, and you’re forcing me to have this god awful conversation,”

Steve let out a soft breath of laughter at this and Eddie responded with his own indulgent little smile, rubbing his cheek against the top of Steve’s head.

“You’re a melodramatic fucking brat, Stevie. But. You are my melodramatic fucking brat,” Eddie said.

He leaned back, cupping Steve’s face in both his hands and marveling at the boy in front of him. Somehow even now with puffy red eyes and chewed on lips, Steve was still completely gorgeous.

Maybe Eddie was just drunk on how much he loved Steve..

“You’re mine. You have been mine since day one, Baby. I’m not just going to wake up one day and decide I don’t want you anymore. You seem to have decided that I will, and so you wanna get it over with, and I get that, okay? I get it, but I need you to hear me when I say this.”

Eddie waited until Steve’s eyes were lifted before taking a deep breath and biting the bullet.

“I am not Nancy Wheeler,” Eddie stated bluntly, ripping the bandaid right off Steve’s deepest wound. “And I am not your parents. I’m not Tommy fucking Hagan or Carol fucking Perkins or any of the other jackasses in this town who didn’t care enough to realize how absolutely fucking precious you are,”

“Eddie-” Steve started.

“Precious.” Eddie repeated, his eyes sparkling, “After everything you are still kind. You’re still kind, and you still let people in, even though so many people have hurt you. You let all of us in, even though that scares you more than anything.”

“I’m gonna promise you something now. I promise that I am never going to wake up and just decide one day that you aren’t enough for me anymore. I’m not going to turn on a dime and decide you aren’t worth enough to stick around, because I seem to know something you still don’t get.”

Eddie pulled him in close, kissing Steve’s forehead and swiping both of his thumbs against his cheeks.

“I know that when you love someone, when you really love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy. Even then. Especially then!”

“You love me?” Steve croaked. Eddie’s eyes grew wide and he stiffened up.

Fuck.

The word had just slipped out. It was way too early to be saying that, way too fast to mean real genuine love. If Eddie wasn’t such a motor mouth he would have taken two fricken seconds to think about what he said without jumping too far too fast and ruining everything.

If he was smart he would say something, try to take it back. If he was smart he would do that.

But Steve was looking up at him like Eddie was holding the sun, the moon, and all of the stars, and there was no way he could backtrack. Eddie would throw himself into the Quarry before he did anything to make that look fade away.

“I just poured my heart and goddamn soul out onto the floor, and all you heard was the ‘I love you,’” Eddie said with a breathless laugh, “You also heard the part where I called you a melodramatic fucking brat, right?!”

Steve giggled. Honest to god giggled, reaching up and threading his fingers through Eddie’s where his hands were still cupping his cheeks.

“You love me,” Steve said again, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie shook his head, trying to hide his own extremely stupid smile.

“Yes, angel, I love you. I can’t remember loving anything or anyone the way I love you.” Eddie admitted.

In for a penny, in for an entire goddamn ton.

Steve hummed happily, surging forward and locking their lips together. Eddie immediately deepened the kiss, letting his hands slide backwards. He tangled the left in Steve’s hair, using his right to pull Steve properly into his lap. Once they were properly situated, Eddie let himself get lost in the kiss, slipping and sliding into Steve and the blooming bursting love that was growing around them.

“Still wanna break up?” Eddie joked when they broke away for air. Steve blushed, shyly shaking his head once, and Eddie grinned, nipping at Steve’s jaw.

“Good. Because next time you try, I’ll make a wish for the goblins to come and take you!” He threatened, tickling Steve’s ribs and making the younger boy squirm away from him.

“Goblins?” Steve asked once he was a safe distance away, raising a brow.

Right. Steve had fallen asleep. That was what started this whole thing.

“Okay we’re having a redo,” Eddie declared, jumping off of the couch and scampering over to the VCR to begin rewinding the tape, “You and I are going to sit here, and watch this movie. And when you fall asleep halfway through, you are going to put your head in my lap so I can play with your gorgeous perfect hair that I love so so much. You got it, Buster?”

Steve snickered, settling back into the cushions.

“Got it,” He called back, pulling his legs up so they were at his side on the couch.

Setting up the movie took barely any time, and before he knew it, Eddie was back on the couch, his boyfriend happily snuggled in his arms.

“Oh, and Eds?” Steve said quietly as the opening credits began.

“Yeah, Baby?”

“I love you too.”

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tojiverse · 4 years

Text

JUST FOR FUN pt 2

read pt 1 here part 3 here

toji fushiguro x f!reader

warnings: smut degredation swp creampie uhh just rough sex in gen overstim (lmk if i missed any!!)

After what you would like to call an incident, things between Toji and you weren’t the same. He now had a habit to quickly put you in your place, all with a smirk which was irritating to say the least. You found yourself trying to avoid him, any time he came too close you’d quickly put distance between the two of you, not wanting to deal with him yourself. Toji made it difficult for the distance to be kept, he truly enjoyed being able to make you squirm with just his presence. You were locked away within your office, which was the only moment you were Toji free.

“Come in,” You said softly as you filled out paperwork from your latest bounty, which was a success.

“Who knew you’d be stuck here all of sudden,” Toji said in a playful tone and you continued to do your work.

“What is it that you want Fushiguro?” You said, making sure your tone was dull, as you didn’t want to entertain him any longer.

“Why so cold all of a sudden? Am I bothering you that much?” He asks, faking a hurt look as his hand went over his chest, a small frown on his face.

“Truly, if you have no business with me then fuck off, God you’re annoying,” You said dismissing him with a small shoo motion and going back to work.

“Someone must need an attitude adjustment again, you’re being such a fucking brat,” Toji said in a growl, and you felt your face warm up.

A quick flashback of your previous intimate moment with him replayed in your head causing you to clench your thighs together.

“You’re a pervert Fushiguro, now get out. Don’t make me repeat myself,” You said, quieter than you had planned but you still meant it.

He smirked and went towards the door turning around to face you once again.

“I do hope I get to hear you whine and beg for me again,” He said before exiting your office.

You put your head in your hands groaning as he had worked you up and you weren’t going to chase after him. You sighed shifting into a comfortable position and then finishing for the day.

Several days went on like this, he’d invade your personal space, fluster you only to leave before you could think of a witty comeback. You took in a deep breath as you heard footsteps approaching your office once again. You got ready to pay him no mind, keeping your eyes focused on your work as he approached you.

“What do you want?” You said sternly, obviously not in the mood for his antics.

“Aw, come on don’t be a brat now, do you need an attitude adjustment?” He asked leaning over your whispering into your ear.

Your face flushed and you focused on your work, which led to Toji letting out an amused laugh. You felt his hand grip your face firmly and tug your face up so you’d look at him. He loved the innocent look you had in your eyes, doe eyes brimming with need and confusion. Toji could only smirk, seeing how much you needed him he leaned down slightly.

“You’re such a brat, but I know exactly what a needy slut like you needs, isn’t that right? You just want someone to break you until you’re crying fat tears isn’t that right sweetheart?” Toji asked and you found yourself nodding slightly. “Ah, use your words.”

“Yes, that’s what I want,” You said quietly and Toji only looked at you.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t quite hear you, speak up, and maybe, I’ll reward you,” Toji said and you flushed.

“Please Toji, that’s what I want,” You said a bit louder this time, it seemed to satisfy him.

He quickly picked you up, placing you on the desk, grabbing your wrists, and pinning you down. You remembered what he said last time and you kept your hands there. Toji noticed and smirked while calling you a good girl. Toji began to give you rough kisses on the neck, making sure your neck would be painted in a dark purple. You left out soft whimpers which only served to fuel his pace. He moved between your legs and you could feel his hard-on pressing against your core. Your back slightly arched, wanting to feel him more but a quick slap to your thigh and you stopped.

“You’re such an obedient whore for me, isn’t that right? My cute little fuck toy, that’s all you’re good for anyway,” He said in a condescending tone, and you felt it go straight to your core.

Toji’s hand slowly made it down, teasing touches along the way until he got to your pussy, which was already wet in anticipation for him. He ripped your stockings down the center and your eyes widened in shock, you were upset he had ripped them but knew better than to say anything. Toji moved your underwear to the side and began by easing a finger in, prepping you. You loved but hated the way his fingers made you feel, full —he managed to reach spots you couldn’t even dream to reach, on your own. Toji eased another finger in curling them slightly against your sweet spot, which caused your walls to flutter around him. You were babbling nonsense, nothing that came out of your mouth was coherent, just pleas for more.

“You need to lower your voice, or else someone might hear you and come in, oh? You must like that, you just clamped around my fingers,” Toji said and your eyes widened before looking away.

Toji quickly forced you to look back at him, eyes glaring down at you.

“Look away from me again and I’ll ruin every one of your orgasms, do I make myself clear?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes, yes yes I’m sorry Toji,” You stuttered out remembering what he told you before.

“Good whore, You must love the idea of being found out hm? Anyone could come in at any moment and all they’d see is your gushing all over my fingers, maybe even creaming around my fat cock,” Toji whispered in your ear, which caused you to moan out softly.

Toji continued to finger you by using his thumb to play with your clit, causing your abdomen to tighten. Toji could tell you were close and only looked down at you with the same shit-eating grin as the last time.

“No, please, please, please, I promise I’ll be good please let me cum,” You pleaded with a whine following and his fingers only began to slow down.

“Who does this pussy belong to, hm?” “You!” “Oh? And who’s the only person who makes you feel this good hm?” He asked while picking up the pace.

You choked on your saliva, his fingers hitting the perfect spot.

“You! Only you Toji please,” You pleaded desperately, stuttering his name as if though you were praying to him.

“Yeah, that’s right you whore, I’m gonna wreck yer cunt to the point where only I can pleasure you, you’ll only crave me,” He said, and he meant it as not only a threat, but a promise as well.

Right after, you reached your peak, gushing all over his fingers as your hips shook slightly from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. You only whined and mindlessly babbled incoherently, words not making any sort of sense to you while drooling slightly. Toji helped you ride out your high, taking his fingers out and tasting you with a smirk.

“Always so sweet for me,” He said and you whimpered.

Toji pulled his pants down followed by his boxers and your eyes widened. You honestly didn’t remember him being this big. His cock had a bit of precum flowing out as it slapped his stomach.

“Aw come on, don’t tell me you can’t take me? Such a shame too isn’t it?” He said going to pull his pants back up but you quickly shook your head.

“No, no I can I promise, please,” You pleaded and he smirked.

He lined himself up with your core before slipping himself in a fluid motion causing your back to arch, you swore you could see stars. He gave you a second to adjust to him before he began to just abuse your pussy. All that could be heard within the room was skin slapping and your whines. Toji quickly stuck his fingers in your mouth in order to silence you, as he didn’t feel like getting caught. You could only whine as he hit your g-spot repeatedly, you felt your orgasm rushing at you.

“‘M so close Toji, please,” You pleaded and he shook his head.

“Aw, it’s too early for that isn’t it? You cum when I allow you to,” Toji said and you let out a desperate whine.

This only further encouraged him to bring his thumb over your clit and began to play with it which caused you to clench around him even harder.

“So tight for me, fuck, your cunt was made for me and only me, shit, so good for me baby,” He said and you whined softly.

He began to pound roughly into you while gagging you with his fingers, ensuring that you wouldn’t get loud. You felt your high quickly approaching as you clenched around him tightly causing him to groan.

“Yeah, that’s it slut, cum all over my cock, wanna see you gush all over me,” He said, and with that, you squirted on him while moaning loudly.

Toji looked down in shock, soon smirking and looking at you. He continued to thrust roughly through your high helping you ride it out. As soon as you stopped twitching he began to thrust again causing you to look up at him.

“Aw, you didn’t think we were done did you? I know you have one more in there for me, now be a good fuck toy for me,” He said and you nodded.

Toji picked you up from the desk and put his hands on your waist and began to fuck you while standing up. You felt like he had somehow reached deeper into you and you dug your nails into his back as you moaned quietly.

“So good Toji, so so so good!” You said loudly at the end when he had reached your g spot.

You quickly took this opportunity to leave him with the same hickeys he gave you which caused him to curse under his breath.

“You’re such a bad girl hm? I guess I should fuck you like a whore then,” He said and you tightened around him, aroused by the idea.

He only smirked and began to thrust harder into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You began to chant his name like a mantra, not caring who could hear you at this point, you were too lost in what he had to offer. You quickly felt your third high approaching and Toji could also feel his.

“You cum when I do, don’t forget that,” He growled and you desperately nodded.

Toji’s thrust became sloppy and you both reached your highs at the same time, you gushed around him as he looked down watching his load seep out of you with a smirk. You both caught your breath and you quickly realized the situation you were in. Your eyes widened as you quickly put both your hands against his chest and you pushed against him.

“Let me down, you have to leave,” You said quickly while Toji only smirked.

He pulled out stuffing his cum right back into you with a smirk, before slipping your underwear back over. You whimpered at the empty feeling and carefully unwrapped your legs from his waist, your legs shaking as you stood. Toji could only laugh which caused you to glare at him, eyes swimming with hatred once again.

“Get out Toji,” You said firmly and he only looked at you.

“You have to admit it, you don’t really hate me, you love the way I fuck you, I can tell,” He said and you rolled your eyes.

Before leaving he grabbed your neck and leaned down giving you a rough sloppy kiss, which only left you wanting more. He left throwing a wink in your direction and you felt like screaming. God this man frustrated you but he fucked you so well you couldn’t help but want more. When you got home to your estate, your clan advisors were waiting for you. Your heart was in your throat as you quickly walked in with them and they began to prep you for your meeting. When you walked through the doors in there waiting for you was Kai Satoru and a representative of the Zenin Clan. You felt your heart drop, as this only screamed some sort of marriage proposal. You sat down across from them, your advisors behind you, and the meeting began. You felt as if time had dragged on, it honestly felt like the meeting had gone on for hours when in reality you were only one hour in.

“(y/n) we want to offer an alliance between the Satoru clan and yours, but it would have to be fortified through marriage,” Kai said and your eyes widened.

If you were to get married Kai would become the head of the clan and you’d be fucked over for good, being stripped of all power and forced to be some trophy wife, and you would rather die than let that happen. Kai noticed your hesitation and spoke up before you could object.

“I know traditional marriage laws would imply that I would become head of your clan, but we can alter it completely so that you remain in power,” Kai said quickly and you stared.

“Although both offers I have been offered are enticing, I need time to work them over with my advisors, it’s getting late and I would hate for anything bad to happen,” You said and both men nodded.

All of you got up bowing and then two of the advisors helped the men find their way out. You followed and noticed a white-haired boy quickly join Kai, who only stared at you. It quickly clicked who the boy was, Gojo Satoru. You soon were dragged back into the room and sat in front of your advisors.

“So, which deal are you more inclined to take? Both the Zenin and Satoru clan are highly powerful, and marriage with either of them would clean the clan name,” One of them, Kaisa, said quickly, the others nodding.

“I don’t know the offer the Satoru clan ensures that I remain as head of the clan until an heir is produced and of age, but marriage right now is scary,” You said and they nodded.

“You’re going to have to get married soon,” One of them spoke up and you could only nod.

#toji x reader #jjk toji #jjk #jjk smut #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen #smut #anime smut

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sidespromptblog · 3 years

Text

The Goodbye Letter

Warnings: Crying (Logan), Hurt/Comfort, goodbye letter, talk of fading (past tense- Logan), and general angst.

Summary: After months of planning and thinking, Logan decides to finally leave the light sides for good. Through a letter.

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 2188

The desk lamp next to Logan clicked on, illuminating a corner of the logical side’s room on pale yellow light as the figure of the logical side sat hunched over his desk a pen clasped tight between cramping fingers.

It was late, so late that even Virgil would have been asleep by now.

Which meant that it was the perfect time to do this.

“I can do it...” Logan softly chanted to himself, as he rubbed his temples only giving the clock on his desk a wayward glance. It was late, way too late for the emotions he was trying to wrangle right now. But it had to be done now, or else he wasn’t going to get it done at all. “We talked about this ahead of time, and we know that I can do this…”

All things considered, Logan started his letter off pretty eloquently given the state of his emotions.

“I hope, that when you finally notice that I am no longer around. That the silence where I once stood is deafening.” He began, finding that once he started it was almost impossible to stop. “I hope that you try to fill it in whatever ways you can possibly think of, be it your singing, dancing, or probably more accurately… the arguing that never seems to go away whether I’m there or not. Whatever way you try, I hope that they all fail and I hope that you remember the time where the silence wasn’t there. I hope that you remember that it was once me, and I hope that you remember how I once was.”

Logan didn’t feel at all angry, despite how his letter may make him seem towards those it was directed towards… he wasn’t angry about any of it. He hadn’t been angry about it in such a long time, he was more…

Comfortably numb at this point, despite what the words scrawled on the page spelled out. It was easy to default to this past anger he’d felt, rather than attempted to write out how they’d made him this way and how’d they’d made him so empty, to begin with.

He’d need longer than a few hours to explain that, it would take days… days that he didn’t have right now.

He had long since passed the stage of being angry or even being sad, he’d shed so many tears that it had hurt to cry and it had hurt even more to just be sad without being able to cry. He had tried trashing things, burning all of his notecards, and just ripping everything that he had once worked on to shreds. Now there was just… nothing. He was just tired at this point, and that was left was that tiredness that made him feel as if that was all that there was at this point. He couldn’t recall a single morning where he woke up not feeling this constant tiredness. And not feeling like it would be better off to not leave his bed, let alone his bedroom.

It was just easier to write this letter, rather than having to go through the struggle of having to explain himself without being interrupted or argued with.

“I hope it hurts,” He added without much malice left inside of him. “I hope it hurts to realize how far you’ve pushed me. I could have gone an eternity existing beside all of you, had it not been for the belittling. I’m sad to say that I probably would have stayed a little longer even if that was the case, I loved all of you so much. But after recent events… something inside of me is broken now, and I don’t think that it will ever be fixed properly.”

Much to Logan’s surprise, he felt a stripe of wetness streak down his face at his next words dotting the page that he was writing on.

At the admission of weakness that he now felt.

But even so, that didn’t stop him.

If anything it only spurred him on now, even as it became hard to see throughout all of the tears.

“I am far too damaged now to come back to you all. I don’t remember when I wasn’t.”

Taking in a shaky breath, a whimper crawled up the logical side’s throat at the finalization that settled in his chest. He loved them… truly he did. He loved Roman’s energy, and how he put everything he had into every project he took. He had always given his whole heart to them regardless of how he felt. He loved Virgil’s mellowness and the way that he thought about things as realistically as he could despite how the world scared him. He loved Patton and his cheeriness, and his drive to keep going and to see the best in things… even if it wasn’t for the best in himself.

“When did you first break me? And when could I no longer put myself back together?”

But right now… it was so hard to love them. So hard that it felt almost impossible at this point. It was possible he knew… but not necessarily healthy.

It was so hard to love them when they saw him as something optional, as something that was so boring that they couldn’t be bothered to even try to listen to him. Every single time they made a comment, every time they rolled their eyes, and every time attempted to ignore him once again…

It hurt.

Every time it hurt more and more.

“Logan?”

The said logical side felt his shoulders stiffen at the hand that rested on his shoulder, gently cradling him as he went through wave after wave of tears that threatened to choke him if he didn’t let them out all at once.

It most certainly didn’t stop the shaking of his shoulders as he felt the tears that he had thought were once gone and dried up, rise up again with a vengeance. They ran down like a rainstorm, dripping onto the page and smudging the ink that hadn’t even begun to dry yet. Not that it mattered to him much anyways, it wasn’t the neatness he cared about now, but rather what the words had meant to him. What the emotions that had been locked away inside of him had tried to say after all of these years, and… what he had convinced himself that he had been alright with for years upon years.

He wasn’t okay.

Burying his face in his hands Logan tried to choke out an apology. “S..Sorry.. Sorry.” He mumbled out behind his mess of tears, “I thought that I was okay enough to write this. I thought.. I thought that it wouldn’t hurt as much… I’m sorry.” The apology was constant, despite the hand that released his shoulder instead curled around him, pulling him into a warm hug.

A part of him wanted to pull against it, to finish his letter and everything that it entailed. Part of him wanted to rebel against the warmth from the other side, and from the hand gingerly petting his hair as his breathing hitched and a near-silent sob bubbled out of him. But…

He didn’t, as much as that part of him wanted to… he sank back into the comfort that was so freely given to him.

Why did kindness hurt just as much as cruelness?

“It’s okay,” That gentle voice murmured again, “We both knew that this wouldn’t be easy, writing a goodbye letter is… very hard to do. It involves a lot of digging up old emotions and putting them on display for others to see, and that’s scary and hurtful for you. You’ve been hurt, and you have a lot to say.” A soft kiss pressed against the top of his head. “It’s okay Logan, you’re doing good.”

Taking in a deep breath he nodded before leaning his head back enough to look back at the side that had come at the sign of his smallest discomfort. Janus’ mismatched eyes stared down at him with a sad kind of understanding, it was the kind of look that anytime before he understood would have made Logan very confused. But now… now he reached up, gingerly taking the hand that had resumed the petting of his hair and placed a tiny kiss on the palm. The tears on his cheeks hadn’t even dried as Janus swiped them away, the softness was unbelievably evident in just about everything that he did for Logan.

“Thank you,” Logan whispered, his voice cracking with each word. “I’m okay, it’ll be tough to finally finish this… but I’ll be okay.”

Janus’ eyes searched his for a long terse moment, before finally nodding.

Leaning down the dishonest side placed a simple kiss on the logical side’s forehead, the smell of his cologne lingering. “Okay,” He slowly began. “Be sure to take a break if you need to. Call me or Remus if necessary. He’s almost done completing your space in the imagination, just a few more hours and it’ll be fully complete.” A tiny smile lit up the serpentine side’s face, “He’s very excited to show it to you…”

Oh, Logan was sure about that. Remus had spent the past few months creating blueprints for Logan’s new home ever since the logical side had brought up his idea of just leaving. At first… Logan had brought up the idea of leaving as a last resort, as in leaving the other sides as well as Thomas. Of just leaving the mindspace and never looking back, of finding his place in the real world even if he technically wouldn’t be able to survive as anything more than a phantom of a man. He had been prepared to make that sacrifice, even if it had meant that he could begin to feel better about where he was.

It had really scared Remus and Janus when he had talked about it…

Apparently, he had been almost manic about the idea of it.

He wasn’t exactly in the best place back then, so their fear wasn’t exactly unwarranted.

He’d even contemplated fading into the subconscious, and just becoming one of Thomas’ baser instincts. Still acting as logic, without being present and visible for him to be summoned at will. It had been a very tempting idea back then, but now… he had better plans, with a future that wouldn’t be nearly so painful as the past.

“Yeah,” Logan smiled, his hand reaching up to card through Janus’ loose hair. “I can’t wait.”

“This is goodbye, I am certain that I will miss all of you. It would be impossible for me not to miss any of you, I’ve grown up with you all and seen how you’ve all changed throughout the years. I will always hold a bit of fondness for you all. Patton, Virgil, and Roman. I love you all dearly so, but… I cannot continue. I cannot last how I have been, so this will likely be the last you ever hear of me. I will not show myself to Thomas, in fact, I will not be capable of being summoned. So for all intents and purposes… this is a final goodbye. So finally… Goodbye. Sincerely and with love, Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders. For the last time.”

With a sigh of relief, Logan neatly folded the letter that he had spent the better part of the week writing. Sealing it with a glob of hot wax, that Roman would most certainly find ironic, Logan sealed the letter before finally rising to take it to its final resting place where it would be found by the others in the morning. Rising up in the living room, he moved silently and quickly, he placed it on the kitchen counter that connected to the dining room.

Most certain Patton would come in the morning and find it, he’d be the first to read it and thus the information would spread to the others as well. They would all know well before the morning had even begun.

“Janus?” Logan softly called out as he rose back up into his bedroom, “Do you think it’s ready yet?”

The excitement on the other side’s face told him everything that he needed to know as he extended his hand to the logical side. “Yeah,” Janus murmured softly, the warm smile on his face growing. “Are you ready to see your new home?”

With a nod, Logan sank down with Janus.

Just to rise up to feel the warm sunshine on his face, and the sight of a homely cottage that had been made just for him well within in his sight. Remus had really outdone himself this time. The long grass tickled his feet, and the smell of wildflowers graced his nose, letting him know right away that place was safe for him and not a single thing would hurt him here. The babbling of the stream in the distance, and the swaying of the windchimes in the distance almost made Logan want to weep from the pure joy of it all.

He was home.

He was safe.

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #logan angst #janus sanders #ts janus #ts janus sanders #intruloceit #remus mention #ts sides #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides fanfic #ts sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Want To Wait, eleven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompt:

“Person A falls into Person B’s lap”

A crowd of screaming students streamed past the window as Aelin slouched down at her desk. The last day of school was supposed to mean early release, ice cream down by the pier and finally celebrating two whole months of freedom.

But not today. Not for Aelin. Instead, she was in hell.

She barely paid attention as Principal Havilliard explained their detention task, though she didn’t miss her fellow detentionee’s groans as he spilled the ancient library card catalogue onto the floor, his foot shuffling them even further out of order.

“I have paperwork I’ll be doing in my office right next door, and I will notice if this door opens one inch. You have three hours to put these cards back in order,” he smirked, his boot-covered foot shoving the cards around some more. “See you all at seven.”

Aelin glanced over at Rowan, hoping for any kind of assurance, but just like the last twenty hours, he refused to acknowledge her. She knew she’d screwed up; she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so awful as when she saw Rowan’s red-rimmed eyes pick her up for school this morning. She’d apologized profusely, over and over until she wasn’t sure she could apologize anymore, but he just shrugged stiffly and refused to look at her. It had felt like the longest day of her life, and it still wasn’t over.

“Some for youuu,” Dorian cooed, scooping up the cards from the floor and plopping a pile onto Rowan’s desk.

“Some for youuu,” he continued around the room, distributing cards to Manon, who Aelin had been not entirely surprised to see in detention. Dorian dumped the remainder of cards on his and Aelin’s desks, smartly avoiding an already-napping Lorcan in the back corner of the room.

“It’ll be finished fastest if we separate by letter, and then organize each letter,” Dorian explained.

Manon laughed as she started sorting. “Your dad make you do this on your free time?” she asked.

“You know it, babe,” he said with a wink. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head with a wry smile. “My dad just loves giving me detention.”

Dorian kicked up his feet onto the desk as he began his sorting, aimlessly chatting with Manon.

As Aelin began her own sorting, she glanced over at Rowan again. He was dutifully separating his own piles, shoulders tensed, as if he could feel Aelin’s gaze on him, his own eyes boring holes into the desk in front of him, refusing to look up. She hoped against all hopes that he’d look up and all would be forgiven, but she knew that wasn’t likely. Fuck. She’d really fucked up. She had no idea what to do or say to make it better. She felt entirely out of her depth. Rowan had never ignored her for this long, and she was starting to feel like a drug addict going through withdrawal. She was tweaking, in desperate need of any kind of acknowledgment – a flash of his dark green eyes, a smile, a nod… anything.

Instead, they sat in tense silence, the only sound the shuffling of index cards. The minutes ticked by, endlessly, and Aelin could feel herself growing more frustrated with Rowan’s silence with every passing second. She knew she was about to burst.

“L’s are done,” Rowan said, pushing a stack of index cards to the corner of his desk. Manon collected them and dropped them onto the front desk, adding them to her own pile.

Aelin glanced at the giant wall clock. 4:45. Only two hours and fifteen minutes more of the silent treatment. She groaned and placed her head down on the desk.

“Okay, what’s going on with you two?” Dorian asked, pointing at Aelin and Rowan. Rowan’s back stiffened, going ram-rod straight as he frowned at Dorian’s question. “Aren’t you supposed to be best friends?”

Rowan scrunched his nose up and finally, finally glanced toward Aelin. The pain in his eyes nearly knocked Aelin out. She inhaled sharply, biting on her lip, trying to hold back the onslaught of emotions just a look from Rowan caused.

“We are best friends,” Rowan mumbled, causing the knot in Aelin’s chest to unfurl slightly.

“Then again,” Dorian smirked. “I repeat. What’s going on with you two?” he asked. “Because you’re kind of acting like you hate each other.”

“We don’t hate each other,” Aelin burst out, her heart pounding.

Rowan frowned, finally putting all his attention on her. “I don’t know,” he began. “What you did was pretty hateful.”

Aelin leaned toward him, her voice hoarse with desperation. “And I said I was sorry a million times. I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Ooh,” Dorian perched himself on a desk between the fighting pair, looking back and forth at the dueling friends. “Should we all talk it out?”

“No,” Rowan snapped, going back to his card organization.

“Boo,” Manon jeered, joining in on what Aelin would rather not have as a group discussion, causing a bright smile to appear on Dorian’s face. He was living for this drama, apparently. “Kind of sounds like you two just need to kiss and make up.”

Aelin’s cheeks flushed at the mention of kissing, which she tried to push down immediately, covering her face with her loose hair.

“Mind your own business,” Rowan frowned, bravely talking back to Manon in a way that Aelin was sure would get him snapped at. But instead, a feral grin appeared on Manon’s face as she twirled a piece of her white blonde hair with a long nail.

“Oh come on. I dare you.”

“What?” he asked.

“I dare you to kiss Aelin,” Manon repeated smugly.

She raised her eyebrows at Rowan, who’s lips turned down even further.

“Don’t be stupid,” Rowan said, rolling his eyes. Aelin stomach hurt with how fast he’d dismissed the idea. “I’m not kissing Aelin on a dare.”

“Why not?” Dorian asked. “I will.”

Dorian slid off his desk and leaned over Aelin’s. Aelin leaned back, laughing softly at Dorian’s half-hearted attempt to bring his lips closer to her face, and swatted him away.

“Very mature,” Rowan grumbled, tugging his fingers through his hair as he glared in Aelin’s direction again.

“Oh, come on,” Dorian prodded. “We all need a break anyway. Let’s play truth or dare.”

Rowan scoffed loudly, never stopping organizing his cards on his desk. “What are we, in seventh grade?”

“Don’t be a pussy, Whitethorn,” Lorcan called out from the back corner of the room. Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound of his gravelly voice. Aelin watched with curiosity as he stood, his large arms stretching overhead as he cracked his back and neck loudly.

“Truth or dare,” Manon chanted. “Truth or dare! Truth or dare!”

Aelin laughed as Dorian and Lorcan both joined in, slowly approaching Rowan’s desk until he was surrounded.

“Fine!” he shouted.

“Great!” Dorian ruffled Rowan’s hair, earning another disgruntled frown from the blonde. “Manon, truth or dare?”

“Dare!” she answered excitedly.

“I dare you to flash us,” Dorian said with a devilish smile, causing Manon to roll her eyes.

“Boys.” She shook her head. “So fucking predictable.”

Her voice was deadpan, but she fulfilled the dare regardless, lifting her shirt to show the room her black bra. The boys’ jaws dropped slightly, completely silent as she pulled her shirt back down and fluffed her hair, completely unphased.

“Lorcan,” Manon drawled. Before she could even ask the question, he puffed out his chest and grinned.

“Dare.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Her golden eyes glowed as she pretended to think over her question. “I dare you to kiss Dorian,” she gleamed, showing off a perfect row of white teeth.

Lorcan merely rolled his eyes again. “What, you think I’m going to get all no-homo, as if I haven’t had a threesome with another dude before?” Manon shrugged. “C’mere, pretty boy, gimme a kiss.” Lorcan laughed as Dorian mimed pointing to himself, as if to ask Who, me?

Aelin blushed furiously. She knew that seniors were more experienced than she was. Well, a lot of people were more experienced than she was. But a threesome? She could feel herself heat up as Lorcan slid his hand into Dorian’s hair and placed his mouth over his for a hard kiss. Dorian’s mouth moved in tandem with the senior’s, until Lorcan left him with a soft press of his lips and a cocky grin.

Dorian cleared his throat. “I mean, I get it,” he admitted. “Why everyone’s lining up to fuck you.”

“Not everyone,” Lorcan said, flashing his dark eyes at Manon for a loaded second. Aelin remembered all of Manon’s callous rejections and wondered if there was more to the story than they were seeing. She was so wrapped up in trying to figure it out that she barely even registered when Lorcan turned his attention to her.

Lorcan grinned widely. “Aelin, truth or dare?”

“Umm…” She paused. It was no secret that Lorcan wasn’t her biggest fan. And she had a feeling he was getting ready to torture her. She had no desire to flash an audience or kiss anyone but Rowan, so she decided to go with the safer answer.

“Truth,” she answered nervously.

“Who in school are you hottest for?” he asked.

“What?” Aelin squeaked, her voice going unnaturally high as all eyes turned to her.

“Who in school are you hottest for?” Lorcan repeated. “Who do you lust after? Who do you think about when you listen to I Touch Myself?”

Aelin’s mouth dropped as she gaped like a fish. “I…I…” Her cheeks burned as she scanned the faces in front of her, trying not to pause on the dark green eyes that were suddenly rife with curiosity. “Did I say truth? I meant dare,” she said, changing tactics.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and motioned this thumb downward. “Booo.” He made a raspberry sound with his lips as he stuck out his tongue. “Fine, I dare you to give one of us… whoever you want… a sexy lap dance for thirty seconds.”

“I don’t know how to do that!” Aelin croaked out, getting more stressed by the second. She’d have to choose someone. She wanted to choose Rowan, of course. She’d be most comfortable being close to him like that, but she hated that he was still so mad at her. She didn’t want to risk upsetting him even more.

“One or the other. We’re waiting, Aelin,” Lorcan drawled.

The room silenced as Aelin stood and looked at the four students sitting in front of her, laps ready and waiting for her. She was about to take a step toward Rowan when his eyes went to the floor, avoiding her gaze, and she redirected, stepping in front of Manon.

Aelin glanced over her shoulder. “I wish I had music,” she complained.

“I’ve got you,” Lorcan smirked, pulling out his phone from his back pocket. Of course he’d smuggled his into detention. He cued up some rap song with a thumping bass that Aelin wasn’t familiar with, and she took a deep breath as she pretended she didn’t have an audience.

Her hips swayed side to side, dipping lower.

“Lap dance means on her lap, prude,” Lorcan shouted, and Aelin resisted the urge to glare at him over her shoulder. Instead, she got closer to Manon, pushing her legs wider as she awkwardly shimmied between them. She turned around and leaned her head back as she felt Manon’s hands at her sides, helping her maintain her balance as she dipped low to the ground.

“Annnd… time,” Dorian said, clapping loudly as Manon threw Aelin a wink. Adrenaline pounding through her shaky legs, Aelin barely stood upright before tripping over Manon’s extended foot and plopping into Rowan’s lap.

He stood nearly as soon as she fell, hands firmly placed around her waist as he shoved her away from him. “Gods, Aelin, be careful!” he reprimanded her, and Aelin felt tears prick at her eyes. Rowan had never acted like this with her before. He’d said she was still his best friend earlier, but now she wasn’t too sure. His eyes were stormy with upset. All she wanted was for him to smile again.

“Sorry,” she mumbled her apology, and he awkwardly shook her off. It was then she realized it wa her turn. To ask Rowan.

“Rowan,” she said, her voice shaky. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth…” he answered carefully.

“What else do I need to do to make this better?” she asked. She just needed an answer. Anything to do to repair what she’d clearly destroyed.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

Dorian made a loud buzzer sound. “That’s not a satisfactory answer.”

“Even if I really don’t know?” Rowan answered, exasperated. Dorian shook his head, and Rowan practically growled in frustration.

“Your original dare still stands,” Manon said, sing-song. “You can always decide to kiss Aelin.”

“Fine,” Rowan said, causing Aelin’s heart to skip a beat.

“What?” her eyes widened, clearly not hearing right.

“I’m taking the dare,” Rowan said with an annoyed glare. “I’m kissing you.”

Aelin wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. She didn’t want Rowan to kiss her on a dare. That was not how she’d imagined that happening. Especially not while he was so mad at her.

“No!” Aelin exclaimed, chest thumping wildly as panic flooded her system.

“No?” Manon scoffed.

“I don’t consent to this dare!” she squeaked out.

Rowan wound his arms tightly across his chest, clearly getting more annoyed with Aelin by the second. “It’s just a kiss. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Maybe not to you, she wanted to scream. But instead, she swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded softly. Rowan visibly relaxed at her agreement, but as soon as he started to lean forward, Aelin couldn’t help but think how wrong it all was. She didn’t want her first kiss with Rowan to be because of a stupid dare. She wanted him to want to kiss her. And she certainly didn’t want an audience for it. She’d imagined kissing Rowan so many times, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would happen like this.

His lips had barely brushed hers when Aelin turned her head to the side, so his mouth landed just beyond the corner of her lips, making full contact with her cheek instead.

“Burn,” Lorcan cackled loudly, causing a flood of embarrassment to rush through her.

“Sorry,” Aelin whispered.

“S’fine,” Rowan mumbled, his cheeks stained with red as he looked anywhere but her.

“Kisses mean something to me,” she finally said.

“Spoken like a real virgin,” Lorcan heckled, and Aelin could feel herself shrink even further. Rowan spun around on his heel, his chest heaving as he unleashed on his teammate.

“What is your fucking problem, man?” Rowan spat as Lorcan stoically raised a dark brow in his direction. “I get it, she made you look like an idiot, wounded your manhood or whatever, but you need to let up.”

Lorcan held his hands up in mock surrender and meandered back to his seat, grumbling something about “stupid sophomores.”

Rowan sat loudly back at his desk, clearly seething as he began shuffling through his index cards again. Aelin flushed with relief at his defense of her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him, but instead she threw him a grateful glance, which he accepted with a small nod. It wasn’t a smile, but she’d take it.

“Game over?” Dorian asked, and Manon nodded quickly, retreating to her desk.

“Virginity is just a concept, anyway. Don’t let anyone convince you that you’re losing anything when you have sex,” Manon said too loudly in Aelin’s direction. “It’s a sexist concept created by men to boost them up and control women’s bodies. Sex means different things to different people, and anyone who tries to make you feel bad about your sexual experience or lack of it deserves a special place in hell.”

Aelin had never appreciated someone as much as she did Manon in that moment. Lorcan pretended not to listen and shoved his earbuds further into his ear, slumping back into his seat.

“Thanks,” Aelin said quietly, and Manon shrugged.

The four of them worked quietly for the remaining hour of detention, shuffling the cards back into alphabetical order with methodical ease.

When Principal Havilliard returned at 7pm on the dot, Aelin sighed with relief. “Have a good summer,” he said, effectively dismissing them and walking out the door.

Aelin lingered, hoping to steal a moment with Rowan, but it seemed that he was anxious to get somewhere else.

“Glad I’ll never have to deal with you again,” Lorcan mocked as he made his way to the door. “Fire breathing bitch,” he hissed, passing her by.

Fury steamed at his words, and Aelin stood quickly, wanting to launch herself at him. Her fist reared back, ready to punch, but it was restrained as Rowan stepped in front of her and took his own swing, his fist cracking loudly against Lorcan’s nose.

Blood dribbled from the nose as Lorcan staggered backward, laughing maniacally. “Oh man,” he laughed. “Good for you, Whitethorn,” he said as he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand. “See ya never,” he said, glancing between the two of them and giving a half-hearted salute.

Rowan hissed as he clutched at his fist. “Fuck, that shit really hurts.”

“Rowan!” Aelin raced to his side to assess his reddened knuckles. She pressed against the skin gently, checking for broken bones, and he loosened his fist, letting her examine each finger carefully. She glanced up at him, and he was watching her with a cautious gaze. But when she went to remove her hand from his, he squeezed her fingers softly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, squeezing his fingers back lightly. “But thank you.”

“He was pissing me off,” Rowan replied.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan,” Aelin said again, and Rowan sighed loudly as he stretched out his sore fingers.

“I know you are, Ace.” He rubbed at his face. “It’s just going to take me a while you get the image of your dead body out of my head. It was… fucked up.”

Aelin was about to apologize again when Rowan stopped her. “And I know you’re sorry. But I’m allowed to be mad for a while, okay?”

Aelin nodded in understanding.

“Well,” Aelin cleared her throat. “Thanks for defending me, even when you’re mad at me.”

Rowan finally cracked a smile; it was the most beautiful thing Aelin had ever seen. “Yeah, well, as infuriating as you might be, no one is allowed to talk shit about you. Except me, of course.”

“Of course,” Aelin replied too quickly. She tried to hide her smile, but she couldn’t. Just a small amount of attention from Rowan, and she felt her heart mending itself.

Rowan groaned, frustrated. “How do you do that?”

“What?” Aelin asked, perplexed.

“Like, two minutes ago, I was still furious with you!” He exclaimed, exasperated. “And now…”

“And now you’re… not?” Aelin asked, hopefully as they made their way to their lockers to collect their things. The school was eerily empty, everyone long gone to their first night of summer plans.

“Just. Never again, Aelin.” She nodded rapidly. “I’m serious.”

“Want to get that truce dinner?” she asked. “I felt too guilty last night to eat anything.”

As if on cue, Rowan’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. And Aelin had a feeling she knew exactly who it was from. “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

“Nope,” he said, shoving the phone into his pocket.

“I can’t believe we’ve both punched Lorcan Salvaterre,” Aelin giggled as he led them out to his car.

“Just call us Rocky I and Rocky II,” Rowan said, draping his arm across her shoulders, causing Aelin to laugh wildly.

“That’s not their names.”

“They’re not?” he asked. “Then why are the movies called that?”

Aelin shook her head and leaned into his side. As she and Rowan bantered about the movies he clearly needed to watch in the near future, Aelin finally had hopes for the future. It was going to be a good summer. She just knew it.

~*~

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#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #high school au #i don't want to wait au #charincharge writes #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years

Text

You Aren't Fragile

Prompt: After a mission gone wrong y/n is determined to get back into fighting shape, even better than they were before. Bucky notices, and is there when she inevitably wears herself out.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, injury to reader, swearing

Word count: 2K

PART 2 IS UP

Running through the forest, a car, a burst of light and I was on the ground. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think. All I could feel was the blood pooling out of my side. As my vision began to clear, I looked up at the trees, the clouds, snow just beginning to fall gently landed on my face.

“I am going to die”

As my vision began to get hazy again, I could feel someone lifting me from the base of my back, forcing me to sit up slightly. My vision focused and landed on a set of perfect blue eyes. Bucky Barnes. My best friend. My partner in crime. And my long time crush. It was silly, to have a crush with my best friend, so cliché, but as his eyes met mine, a wave of comfort washed over me, I wasn’t alone. He was here with me. I was ok. And then the world went dark.

I shot upwards in bed, causing a pain to temporarily rip up my side, before taking account of my surroundings. I was in my bed back at the compound. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, which read 3:24 AM. I sighed, rolling out of bed and changing into some sweats and a tank top, wincing as my arm raised, causing the wound on my side to flare up.

It had been a month since the explosion. It had left an almost foot long scar running from the middle of my ribs to just above my hip. Bucky had carried me back to the quin-jet, and with the help of Natalie and Steve, were able to stabilize me until I got to a hospital. I was in a coma for three days, and hospitalized for another four, before being ordered to bed rest for at least four weeks. During my time in the hospital, the team visited me as often as they could, but Bucky never left my side, bringing me books, and even reading a few to me when I got too tired. They were all so supportive, but a feeling kept eating away at my brain.

I had failed.

I didn’t have magic powers or a super serum to thank for my skills or to keep me safe. I had trained since I was a child, forced to become a lethal fighting machine, which was a great help to the Avengers, and I was happy to be a part of the team. But I was constantly questioning myself. Was I good enough to be here? Was I strong enough? The explosion only furthered my anxiety, and I knew I had to become better.

I made my way to the gym and made my way to a punching bag. I had gotten a bit out of shape in the month and a half on bed rest, but I was ready to get back on the saddle. I needed to be better.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax my muscles, focusing on the bag in front of me. I jabbed with my right arm, and felt pain shoot from my knuckles down to my injured side. I paused, trying to breath through the pain, before striking again with my left hand finding a very similar pain flow down my body. This continued for a few minutes, me punching and trying to move through the pain, pretending like the pain wasn’t there, all the while chanting in my head 'you've been through worse, you’ve been through worse’. That was until I got carried away, whipping my right leg to strike the bag, and as my shin made contact, the pain in my side radiated throughout my entire body, causing me to collapse with a shocked gasp.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees, my left hand gripping my right side, and tears flowing out of my eyes at the sheer amount of pain. I was only down for a few seconds before I heard footsteps rushing towards me, followed by a hand resting on my back.

“Y/n what happened are you doing”? It was Bucky. Of course it was. The man who always found me at my weakest.

“Go away”! I yelled, shoving him away which only resulted in more pain, resulting in me falling into the same position as before, both arms wrapped around my torso.

“Please” I sobbed, not nearly as loud as before “Please just leave me alone” For a moment the room was silent, the only sound being me trying to suppress my crying. Then, I felt that same reassuring hand, lifting me to my feet.

“You know I can’t just leave you here doll” Bucky said softly, like he was talking to a wounded animal. He gently helped me to my feet, before I lashed out once again.

“I can do it myself” I said, pushing him away, only to almost fall again, but Bucky was there to catch me, lifting me off my feet and carrying me back to my room. This time I didn’t fight it.

He sat me down on my bed and I dangled my legs over the side, allowing Bucky to sit next to me after he turned on the lamp next to my bed. We sat there for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably only a few seconds. I didn’t want to be here. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and stop existing. But no matter how much I looked at the floor, Bucky continued to look at me.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, doll” He asked suddenly. I caught me off guard, and I didn’t respond right away, so he continued. “You were in a coma not even two months ago. You’ve been on bed rest since last week. You’re not even supposed to lift heavy objects why do you think you can do this”?

“I need to do it,” I said quietly, but this wasn’t a good enough answer.

“You don’t need to do anything, you need time to heal, you’re broken and-” I didn’t let him finish

“I’m not broken!” I screamed standing but Bucky stayed still, afraid that any movement from him would make my reaction worse. “I am not some fragile piece of glass. I was raised to be a killing machine! I’ve killed people Bucky! I’m trying so hard to get my life back, to do better, to help people but I am constantly reminded that I am weak! I don't have super strength, I don't have super healing, I’m just a nobody, and I need to prove that I’m worthy to be on this team!”

The room was silent after that, Bucky looking at me with an expression that I could only describe as sadness. He slowly stood, walking over to where I stood across from him, gently bringing a hand up to wipe away tears that I hadn’t realized had fallen, before gently cupping my face.

“You aren’t a fragile piece of glass, and you aren't some nobody, not to the team. Not to me” He said, and that was all it took for me to break down completely. I rested my head on his chest, and sobbed, I let out every anxiety, and fear and pain I had been holding onto for all this time, and he just held me until all that was left was me.

“Why are you taking care of me”? I asked finally, being able to catch my breath and wipe my tears away. “I know we are partners and everything, but you came every day while I was in the hospital. You didn’t have to do that”

“Y/n. On that day, when the explosion happened, I saw you get hit, and the whole time I was running to you, I was pleading, praying, begging any otherworldly force just please, don’t let her be dead. But then I got to you, and you were just so still” I could hear Bucky holding back tears. “I couldn’t stand the thought of having to live in this world without you”

It was now Bucky's turn to look at the floor. “When you were in your coma, I never left. I slept in a chair right by your side, I read to you every day. Told you all the things I wish I had told you while you were awake… Please y/n, I need you to be ok” He finished, finally looking back into my eyes, waiting for a reaction.

“What did you say?” I asked after a moment, causing him to look confused. “What did you say that you wish you could have told me while I was awake��?

Bucky let out a breath, moving his hands to gently rest on either side of my face. “I told you how on the first day you walked into the compound, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. How when you made fun of Steve's’ whole language bit, I knew that I had fallen for you. I told you that I wish I had made you laugh more while you were still awake, because it's my favorite sound and the thought of never hearing your voice again broke my heart. I told you that in the last three years in working together, I have fallen so, terrifyingly in love with you, and that I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t wake up” There was a beat of silence, tears now starting to form in both of our eyes at his confession “You’re not fragile y/n, you're the strongest, most determined, funniest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I need you to take care of yourself, because I don’t know what I’ll do if you get hurt like that again”

I slowly moved my hands up to meet his face, in the same manner his hands were on mine, before finally connecting my lips to his. He seemed to see it coming, because he took no time to respond. It was passionate, but not in a way that is lustful and rushed, but in a way where I was finally able to see him for the first time. It was slow, and kind, and it felt like I had finally come home.

He was the first to pull away, looking into my eyes and smiling, before reconnecting, this time with even more passion than before, moving his hands to my back pressing me closer to him, swiping his tongue along my bottom lip which I gladly accepted. We went like this for a while, before he pulled again once again when he felt my hands move from his face to his chest.

“Sorry, did I do something wrong”? I asked, panicked that I was moving too fast, which caused him to laugh, placing his hands on top of mine.

“No you’re not doing anything wrong, there's nothing I want more than to take this further, I’ve waited literal years to take this further, but you are still hurt, and I don’t want you bleeding all over the place when we get to there” He said, causing heat to rise to my cheeks, but also to cause a laugh to erupt from my chest.

“You do have a point” I laughed, leaning into him again, this time in a hug, allowing the feeling of comfort to come over me.

“I promise as soon as you’re better I’ll help you train and let you beat me up as much as you want until you feel confident, and let me show you how much I’ve been wanting to do this, But for now do you think you can stick to your bed rest? Just for a while longer?” He asked, pulling away to look into my eyes.

“I mean, I’ve waited this long to jump your bones, I guess a few more weeks won't hurt” I stated, causing him to chuckle “But I still want you to come read to me and stuff”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way”

______________________________________________________________

Hope you guys liked it! LMK if you think this should have a part two, or if you have any other feedback. Love you all!

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes smut #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Text

9. Itches to Scratch

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 8.8k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK TO JOIN THE TAGLIST

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: only two more chapters left! what the actual FUCK!!!!! thank you so much for all the love on OE, they. are my little babies and i love them so much. slide into my DMs and tell me what you think!

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

“H?”

Harry was in his dressing room while Y/N showers before his show in Bologna. She was leaving in a week and he spent every waking moment trying not to think about it. He had loved having her on tour with him—waking up with her in his bed, seeing her belly grow and her body change right in front of him, being able to sing to her. Bounding off the stage and directly into her arms was his favorite part of the night. They had also gotten really good at having sex in his dressing room without anyone hearing them, something he was going to miss. Desperately.

At the moment, he was on his phone texting Gemma, checking in on what she was up to at work. But at the sound of Y/N’s voice he perked up, on his feet immediately. He beelined for the shower and then paused in the doorway of the bathroom. “What is it, love?”

She shoved open the shower curtain and Harry was met by a wet Y/N looking flustered, a razor in her hand and soapy legs. “I can’t reach my fucking legs, Harry.”

Oh. He toed off his shoes, then his clothes, and walked straight into the shower with her, despite her protests that he really didn’t need to get all the way in the shower. But Harry would walk through fire for her, the water didn’t really do much. “Why are you shaving in the first place?” He asked, turning down the intensity of the shower. “I really don’t care if you’ve got hair on your legs, baby.”

“But I do,” she pouted. “Makes me more…attractive, I guess.”

His head bounced up from where he was studying her dainty ankles. “Why would you be less attractive?” She had brought up to him only once or twice before her insecurities about her appearance since she’d gotten pregnant and he flat out didn’t understand her concern. He didn’t think he’d ever been more attracted to her—she fucking glowed, she constantly wanted to touch him, she let him do things for her, and she was carrying his child. (And her tits were utter perfection.) So when she said things like that, he just didn’t know how to reassure her more.

She pushed her wet hair out of her face and avoided his eye contact, much to his dismay. It was hard to read her when she didn’t look at him, although he was getting better and better at telling from her body language as they spent more time together. “I just feel so…not like myself.”

“Hey,” he murmured, rubbing the skin at her thighs. “You’re still you. You’re my Y/N. Same person, same utterly drop-dead gorgeous person.” Her eyes finally met his, a blush on her cheeks he adored. He loved that he still made her blush. She didn’t reply, didn’t fight him on his words, so he started to run the razor down her legs, the hairs collecting on the blades before he rinsed them in the water. They were quiet as he worked, delicate strokes on her skin so he didn’t knick her. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her bleed. “Feel nice and soft,” he informed her as he moved to her other leg, making short strokes on her knee since the skin was thinner and harder to shave.

She mumbled something he didn’t catch, but he didn’t ask her to clarify, knowing it was probably some snide remark about his work. Instead, he massaged her calf, smiling at the gasp he heard over the shower. “Harry…” She said, voice in a warning.

“I know, I know.” They didn’t have much time—he was due for hair and makeup in probably a few short minutes, and after that there wouldn’t be time until after the show. “Just let me mess around, huh?” She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t protest, so he continued his actions. He shaved her hair and massaged at her skin, peppering kisses on the bits closest to him. The precise swipes of the razor were leaving her hairless and glistening under the florescent lighting in the bathroom, and Harry surveyed his work with pride. “Think I’m done,” he said, leaning back and letting her rinse off her leg under the water. “Can touch it up later if it’s not up to your standards.”

He stood up and captured her lips in a quick kiss before she pushed him away, telling him to dry off before Ayae got there and had his ass for being all wet and drippy. He chuckled and left her to her own devices, finishing the shower while he got ready for the stage.

Harry gripped Y/N’s hand the minute he was off the stage, pulling her behind him all the way to the dressing room, ignoring her questions entirely. He was a man on a mission, and when he shut the door behind him and pushed her against it, his lips capturing hers, she knew what for. Hands covered every free inch of her skin, his ring-clad fingers desperate to touch her.

“Thought about you when I was on stage,” he said, wrenching the neck of her top to the side, exposing her bare collarbone. “About fucking you, about your wet hole, about hearing you moan for me.”

Her hips bucked into his without trying to, his words stirring a fire in her. “Couch,” she breathed out when he sucked into her skin. “Need to feel you properly, H.” Because of her belly, her seven-month pregnant belly, she couldn’t touch him the way she wanted to.

“Yeah, baby?” He walked them backwards to the couch, him sitting down with her on top of him. He leaned back deep into the cushions, the angle allowing her to grip his thighs behind her and grind, her clothed center brushing against him. The rings of his fingers dug into her thighs when he rucked up her dress, one of the many Harry Lambert had found and ordered for her, loving the opportunity to explore maternity fashions. The cold metal made you gasp and you looked from the ceiling to his eyes, loving the devilish look in his eyes. “Can I make you come?” He asked, nose nudging hers.

She nodded, the prospect making her desperate. He could feel it in the way she shuddered at the idea, the way her eyes fell to his mouth and watched him lick his lips, something he did just to taunt her. Delicately, he rolled her, her back hitting the couch cushions and Harry dropped to the floor in front of her, not minding that his hot pink pants were going to get ruined from the rug. Her hands pushed at his matching suit jacket and he shrugged it off, letting her untie the bow tie around her neck that she had helped him with only a few hours before. And when he was free, he bent down, not wanting to waste a second of time.

He dove into her without warning, without prep, knowing she wouldn’t need it. She was already dripping for him, the effect of his words driving her wild, but the feeling of his tongue inside of her had her squirming against him, hands pulling on his hair and his name falling from her mouth in a chant. He loved going down on Y/N because it was when he loved how she responded to it—how she pulled on him, touched him everywhere she could, held his head close to her.

“H,” she breathed, “need your fingers.”

Her wish was his command. He slid two fingers in, the sound of her groan as she adjusted making him smile. As he slid his digits in and out of her, curling them deep inside, he rested his cheek against her thigh, watching what he was doing to her. And then he looked up at her, only to find her watching him, breathless. “I know you wish you could see,” he said softly, because she had told him more than a few times, “but can you hear what I’m doing to you?”

It was loud in the room, the sound of her juices as he moved in and out of her, the slick of her skin against his fingers. She nodded, licking her lips as they dried from her pants. “Feels so good,” she whispered, head lolling as he kissed her clit tenderly before sucking on it. “Gonna come,” she breathed out as he stroked her clit with his tongue over and over again, a brutal course set on her skin.

“Want to feel you come on my fingers,” he told her, knowing that his words were what she needed now. “Can you do that for me, love? Come around me, squeeze me tight like you do my dick? Hmm? Know you can, want to feel it though.”

“Fuck,” she said, drawling on the word as she bucked into him, his fingers brushing her back wall just the way she needed. That was what made her come, squeezing around in a vice grip, thighs clamping around his head as he watched her drip onto him, juices dripping around his fingers.

He lapped at you, tongue picking up every last drop, not wanting a single bit to go to waste when he pulled his fingers from you. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing kisses to the rise of her bell as he lifted his head. “Can I have you, baby? Need you so bad.”

“Please.”

It took some logistics to figure out a position that was comfortable for both of them, but finally they found it. He was lying down on the couch, her in reverse cowgirl perched on top of him. He hated not being able to see her, but whatever was most comfortable for her was what he wanted. And if he couldn’t see her face at least he could see her ass, her back, her hair cascading down her back, the curve of her spine and her shoulder blades when she moved. He dug his finger into her ass, her head tipping back at the feeling of his rings on her skin.

Knowing she was sensitive already and how ready he was for her, he didn’t wait. He pushed at her hips, urging them up, and pumped his dick twice before nudging against her slit, the sensation drawing moan after moan from both of them. When she sat down on him, she didn’t hesitate—she took him fully, sitting against his hips so deep he had resist the urge to buck up into her, knowing she was adjusting around him. He loved it when she was in control, loved letting her set the rhythm and bounce on him at her own pace, basically using him as she needed. It never ceased to make him want her more, and he sat up slightly, changing the angle and making her squeal, so he could hold her belly. He knew it made it easier for her, and he didn’t want her to be in pain.

“You doing okay, angel?” He asked, sucking harshly on her shoulder.

Her head rolled back and found his lips, mouths fighting for dominance as she rose and fell on his cock, his hands holding her up. When she rolled her hips against his her head fell back onto his shoulder behind her and he was essentially fully supporting her. He loved it though, the feeling of her sweaty back on his chest. He pushed his hips up into her slightly, making his dick brush her walls in the way she loved and his name a prayer in her throat.

He swept her hair over her shoulder so he could nibble at her neck, murmuring praises to her skin. “So good for me, baby, huh? Love feelin’ you all around me, squeezin’ me just like that. God, you feel like heaven, love, know that? Made for one another.” It had her squeezing around him tightly, her hands scrabbling for the couch cushions at her side for support as she rose and fell. She was chasing her orgasm and he wanted her to find it, knowing that her orgasm was what he needed to come. “Need you,” he said, suckling on her earlobe, swiping a circle underneath the tender skin. “Need to feel you come around me for me to finish.”

“Oh my god,” she whimpered. “Can you touch me, H? Can’t reach.”

His movements were immediate, moving one hand from her stretched skin to her clit, thumbing rapid circles over her clit. She shuddered in his arms, back curling into him as she bent forward. It was crushing his hand but he didn’t care, loved the reminder that she had his baby inside of her, that she was the mother of his child. “C’mon love, want you to come for me.”

The feeling of her clenching around him, her thighs threatening to shut as pleasure rocked through her body had Harry coming right behind her. She slid up and down him a few more times, movements shaky, but it was just what he needed as he finished, his lips sucking into the back of her neck as she rode him. His ring-clad hands gripped her hips, holding her to him as they both caught their breath, not ready to let go of her yet.

Then, Y/N rose up, his dick slipping out of her, and turned around so that she was sitting in Harry’s lap, but facing him. His fingers brushed across her stretched skin, and pressed a kiss to the rise of her belly. “I’m going to miss you,” she murmured as she ran her hands through his hair, sweaty from the stage and then sex.

Harry looked up at her, the sad expression on her face, and his heart broke. “Wish you didn’t have to go. Wish I could go with you.”

They’d spoken about it last night at length, about how if Harry could, he would cancel the rest of tour and go home with her. He loved laying down with her and talking to little Peanut or doing vocal warmups aimed directly at their child growing inside of her. Watching her body change, talking about how she was doing, calling their parents together to check-in. He didn’t want to experience it all from thousands of miles away through the tiny screen of his iPhone.

She kissed the top of his head, and then his nose, then the corner of his lips. “I know. But this is how it is, hmm?” Harry nestled his head onto her chest, sitting right above her breasts. They had taken her dress off earlier, but her bra still held them up, and he pushed at the strap gingerly, pushing it off her shoulder and exposing the flesh to him He nibbled at the skin, Y/N whining at the feeling and pulling at his head.

“Harry…”

“What?” He asked, licking at the sensitive skin and smiling as she squeaked.

“You need to shower and we need to get going,” she reminded him. It was approaching time for them to head out, let people finish cleaning up and for them to get to the hotel. Y/N was exhausted and she had an important meeting tomorrow that she needed to be awake for.

“I’m only showering if you come too,” he said, resting his chin on her sternum and looking up at her. He made his puppy dog eyes at her, which he knew were her weakness, but the thought of not having her skin next to him was torture. “Please, baby.”

“Fine,” she said, pushing at his head. “But no funny business.”

“Me? Funny business?” He scoffed as she pulled off of him. She rolled her eyes and walked towards the attached bathroom, the same one he’d shaved her legs in hours earlier. The sight of her, naked except for expensive underwear set he had bought for her because her old bras were too small and he wanted her to feel gorgeous, made him hard all over again.

She was literally going to kill him, he thought to himself, before pushing himself off the couch and following after her into the shower.

Y/N was only two weeks into being in Harry’s house alone and it was already hell.

She missed him like crazy. She would wake up in the morning, back aching and desperately having to pee, her hand stretched out to his side of the bed, which was empty. Every night she slept in an old shirt of his, one of the few that still fit her, but it had long lost his smell, so she kept spraying it with his cologne so she could pretend he was there with her. The one night she hadn’t because she ran through the leftover bottle he had at home she hadn’t been able to sleep, and when she’d mentioned it to Harry he had overnighted her a new one. Told her he didn’t want her to be without a piece of him. He threatened to make a custom dildo for her of his dick, knowing how horny she was, but she had refused, telling him it was dangerous for him to make a mold of his dick and send it off somewhere, to which he burst out laughing. “What are they going to do love, start making Harry Styles dildos?” She wasn’t too sure it wouldn’t happen, though.

She filled the void by worrying herself sick over the pregnancy and being a mom. When she had been with Harry they did it together—the learning, the late-night Googling, the questions to her doctor. But now she did it alone, or to Harry in texts. Questions like: Do we need another bib? To which he would reply that No, love, already got four, right? He was always correct, somehow keeping an inventory of every purchase they had made for the nursery logged in his head despite being on another continent. She had started calling her mom when Harry was asleep, just to have someone tell her Yes, you’re going to be a great mom, Y/N.

The worst part was that she and Harry hadn’t even settled on names yet. The gender was going to be a surprise, but she wanted to have names picked out at the very least, but they hadn’t been able to settle on any. They had a long-running list in the Notes app on her phone, a strikethrough over the ones they had decided against. Harry for some reason was obsessed with the name Rose, but Y/N had a bully in school named Rose and she just couldn’t get over it. They’d played around with gender neutral names, but quite honestly neither of them really liked the options they could think of all that much.

So they just texted each other names that popped into their heads, and Y/N added the ones that they both liked to the list. They decided they would pick once he got home, wanting to decide in person rather than over the phone. He would be flying home on June 1st, right after his last show in Mexico City. It was cutting it close, but it was the best they could do, and she was just praying that she wasn’t early.

Although she was very much was done with being pregnant, that was for sure.

The constant back aches, having to pee constantly, her feet getting swollen to the point where she was about ready to wear Harry’s slippers to work. All she wanted was to have her baby in her arms and out of her body, but at the same time, the prospect of the baby actually being there was frightening at the same time. Sometimes she would find herself looking in on the nursery, the crib and rocking chair staring her in the face, almost mocking her. As if to say, yeah, we know you’re freaked out, but guess what? No backing out now!

The truth was she was fucking petrified. And she didn’t know how to tell Harry, because he was so over the moon about becoming a Dad. When they’d FaceTime he would tell her about how big little Peanut was (who wasn’t quite so little anymore) and say he was reading some pregnancy books while they were on the road and he’d learned about some supplement he wanted her take. At first, she didn’t buy them, but then Harry could ask her about how they were and she was caught in a lie, so she started doing it. Some of them tasted awful, but she did it for him, because she knew it made him feel like he was involved, despite the distance.

So telling him that she was so scared to be a mom that she had a panic attack last night? It would just send him into a tizzy, and she didn’t want him to worry about her from so far away. She knew it would do nothing except make him feel like shit, and she didn’t want that. He was so good to her, far better than anything she could’ve hoped for, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel inadequate, or that it was his fault.

She moaned about it to Hanna over decaffeinated tea, but Hanna had nothing to add but telling her she was going to be a good mother. Which did nothing for her at this point.

“It’s just, what if I fuck my kid up?” She said, twirling the cup in her hands. They were sitting on a park bench, coffee mugs in their hands and a long-forgotten lemon poppyseed scone between them. “I don’t want to be the reason they’re in therapy for the rest of their lives.”

“Y/N,” Hanna said, setting her cup on the bench, “we’re all in therapy at some point. We all get shit from our parents, okay? There’s no way to avoid that. You’re just going to do the best you can, and you’re going to do amazing.”

“But what if I don’t?” She could feel tears rising in her throat as she picked at the hem of her dress, a summer dress that her mom had sent her.

Hanna wrapped her arms around Y/N and pulled her in, holding her best friend close as the sobs broke through. A hand rubbed up and down her back, just like Harry would do, and Y/N suddenly missed him even more. She wanted him to be comforting her. But he was in Singapore or something. “I need you to listen to me, okay?” Hanna said, arms still around her. “You’re one of the kindest, most caring and generous people I know. You think through every single thing you do, you work harder than anyone I know, and you love more loyally than anyone else. And you’ve got Harry, who I think is literally meant to be a father. It’s insane how much of an amazing father he’s going to be to your baby. So you two as a team? Unbeatable.”

“What if we’re not a team?” The thought tumbled from Y/N’s lips before she could catch it, the fear that had been niggling in the back of her head breaking through.

Hanna pulled away, looking her in the eye. “What?”

“I just...What if having a kid pulls us apart? It’s all fine now, but what if after nights with no sleep and diapers and bottles, he gets…bored? And doesn’t want us anymore?”

“Harry is not going to get bored,” Hanna told her, voice firm. “He forced you to let him be in your child’s life, remember? Fought you on it. Fought to be here, to know his child. There’s no way in hell he’s going to let the opportunity to raise a child with you slip through his fingers. But, if things go south, you’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.”

The thought made her stomach turn—the idea of breaking up with Harry at some point. Because having a child with him, it meant he would always be in her life, even if they weren’t together. It made her want to vomit. “I don’t want to be a single mom,” she mumbled, voice soft. “I want my baby to have two parents who are together. I didn’t get that.”

“Then you need to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Hanna said. “Talk to him about all this, Y/N. He needs to know about your fears and worries—deserves to. He tells you, right?”

All the time, she thought to herself. He was so open about how he was feeling, texting her about when concerts didn’t go how he wanted or if the crowd wasn’t as good, or when he messed up on a note. When he responded to a text too harshly and beat himself up about it, or was pissed off he wasn’t with her. It was his default state, somehow. But it was anything but hers. She was trying—fuck, she was trying so hard to get it right with him, but this was the part she kept tripping up on. The part where she expected him to fuck up and ended up convincing herself it would be horrible before she even got a chance to talk to him about it.

“I’ll tell him,” she decided, picking up her tea cup. “You’re right.”

Hanna nodded. “Know I am. Always am.” The reply made her laugh, something she desperately needed.

A few nights later, Y/N finally plucked up the courage to have the conversation with Harry. He was in Tokyo and it was the late morning for him. He had the day off and was spending the day talking to her instead of doing sightseeing like he normally might. He was curled up in a hotel bed, hair still messy from sleep, chest bare and duvet covers up to his shoulders. Meanwhile, Y/N was on their couch, a blanket around her legs and a bowl of ice cream on her lap.

They were talking about his tour, but he could tell something was amiss. Y/N wasn’t focusing well, her eyes darting all over the place, short answers to his questions and comments. Finally, he asked, “Y/N? Everything okay, angel?”

She gave a sharp exhale, fear curling in her stomach. But it was now or never. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something that’s been worrying me,” she said softly.

On her phone screen, Harry sat up, running a hand through his hair before replying. “What is it?”

“I’ve been feeling really…anxious lately,” she explained slowly, searching for the right words. “Had a panic attack about a week ago.”

“What? Are you okay?” Harry’s face changed immediately, concern ripping through his features. “Fuck, love, why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N ducked her head down, trying to pull her emotions together. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Oh baby,” he murmured. “Can you look at me?” She looked back at him and he’d smushed his face closer to the screen, as if he couldn’t look closely enough at her. “Hey you. It’s okay,. I just want to know what you’ve been so anxious about.”

“It’s the baby,” she replied, watching Harry nod, understanding in his expression. “What if I’m a shit mom? Completely screw our kid up and then they’re in therapy for the rest of their lives, talking about how their mom messed them up?”

“You’re not going to be a shit mom,” Harry said, “and you’re not going to screw our kid up. If we screw our kid up, we’re going to be doing it together—no way I’d let you take all the credit for that.” It made her chuckle, and Harry gave her a small smile, happy to know he had cut through her stress a bit. “But I’m serious, love. We’re going to figure it out together. Neither of us really know what we’re doing, but that’s okay. No one really does, right?”

“Guess not.”

“Exactly. Is there something else that’s been bothering that pretty head of yours?”

It was as if he could read her mind, even thousands of miles away. “I…I was thinking about how both our parents are divorced,” she said finally. “Does that mean we’re destined for the same thing?”

Harry’s face dropped, and she could tell the prospect of it hurt him in the same way it hurt her. “No,” he said, voice soft in her ears. “No, it doesn’t, baby. We’re going to give it our all, okay? You, me, little Peanut.”

“We’re not damaged goods?”

“No,” he said, choking on his words at the sight of Y/N brushing at her teary eyes. “Not at all. Listen to me, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You and our little one come first, always, no matter what anyone else wants. If that means no more music, no more touring, no more press, moving to fucking Antartica, I don’t care. I’ll do anything for you. For Peanut. For us, for our family.”

At some point in his speech, she started to cry, a combination of her emotions and Harry’s words sending her over the edge. It was in moments like this that she wondered how she had found such an incredible man, how she had gotten so lucky in life for him to be at a Christmas party and make her break her rules. “I love you,” she told him, sniffling. “I’d do the same.”

Harry gave her a smile, a tear of his own streaking down his face. “See? That’s why we’re going to be okay. Both too damn stubborn, too.”

She laughed, and then looked down at her ice cream. “My ice cream’s melted.”

“Go get some more then, and tell me about work.” Harry settled back into his spot on his hotel bed and Y/N got up, her heart settling now that she had told Harry about what she’d been worrying about. He always managed to put her at ease, even from far away.

Harry usually loved touring, but right now, he fucking hated it. Usually he would be all excitement and energy, but with Y/N halfway across the world with his child growing inside of her, his mind was elsewhere constantly. Couldn’t focus during interviews, the whole time he was on stage he was thinking about when he’d get off stage so he could call Y/N, since it was the daytime for her. He’d stay up late talking to her or wake up early, his sleep schedule fucked not only from touring but also from waking up at all hours of the night just because he wanted to hear her voice.

The band loved that Harry was excited about the baby, but he could tell they were getting tired of him showing them photos of Y/N’s adorable pregnant belly multiple times a day or him jabbering on about some new thing he had learned in the parenting books he carried everywhere. He was listening to a podcast, too, wanting to fill his every free moment with either talking to Y/N or learning about how to be the best dad he could be.

In the back of his mind, he knew he should be putting in more of an effort to be present, if not for the fans than for the band. But he also just frankly…didn’t care as much as he cared about Y/N and little Peanut. It filled his every thought, awake and asleep. He had dreams of Peanut and he’d send her voice memos explaining them, still half asleep and unable to coherent type. Most of the time she was awake and would send a voice memo or text back, and he’d end up staying awake talking to her until she chastised him for not sleeping.

When he couldn’t talk to Y/N about how excited he was to be a dad, he talked to his mum. Anne was his second favorite person to blab to about his approaching fatherhood, because she was just as excited to be a grandma and was full of advice and good thoughts. She’d suggested a few books, even, the classics she had used while pregnant with him and Gemma. It was nice to have someone to share his fears with too, someone other than Y/N. They’d been better about sharing, being more open, even while he was touring but he also didn’t want to overwhelm her. She had plenty going on with her job and preparing for her maternity leave, getting ready for the baby, and just being generally pregnant. His biggest regret was that he couldn’t be there to take some of the load off. He tried from afar, checking in, ordering her groceries when she was too busy and having them delivered, got her a massage or two to help with her back pain, but it just wasn’t enough. He wanted to be the one giving her massages, picking up the groceries, dropping her lunch off to her at the office when she was too busy to meet him.

For one of the first times in his career, he was so homesick it was almost painful.

When it was just the two of them, it was manageable—he’d done it before, been in a relationship while touring. It was never pleasant, but he could do it. But his girlfriend being pregnant while he was on tour? It was something Harry never wanted to experience again. The thoughts swirling through his head of would he tour once the baby arrived? never seemed to cease, but he didn’t have the answer. He had talked to Anne about it, Mitch and Adam and Sarah even, but none of them had answers or him. He’d even talked to the therapist he had while he toured about it, to no avail. Everyone kept telling him it was his decision, his and Y/N’s decision, but the issue was he didn’t want to even have the problem in the first place. He didn’t want to have to choose.

And he knew it was selfish to not want to choose, to ignore the problem and let it fester, but the thought of it stressed him out to no end.

So those were the thoughts swirling through his head when he was sat on the couch in the dressing room, dressed in the suit of the night, and his phone buzzed. It was Y/N, telling him she was on her lunch break, asking if he was free to chat before the show. He called her without even looking at the time, knowing someone would come get him when it was time to go. His extensive pre-show ritual was a thing of the past, forgotten in lieu of conversations with Y/N that did a better job of calming him down than any meditation or mantra could.

“Hi babe,” she said when she picked up, her sweet voice floating through his phone. It instantly had him relaxing into the couch, the stress in his shoulders lifting.

“Hi you. What are you having for lunch?”

He heard the click of a microwave, the beep of buttons being pressed. “Leftover pasta. Made that spicy one you like.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, the thought of a homemade dinner with Y/N suddenly the most glorious thing he could imagine. “Sounds delicious. How’s work going? Had that presentation this morning, yeah?”

“Yeah, went well I think. They seemed to like the direction we’ve chosen, said some good things about the design mockups. Supposed to let us know by the end of the week, all things going well.”

He smiled, the prospect of a success at work for her a win for them both. “I’m sending good vibes into the world for you,” he said and she giggled, the sound making his heart swell. “How about little Peanut? They doing okay?”

A beep went off—her pasta—and she paused, before saying, “Sorry, had to grab the pasta. Peanut’s good though. I had some wild dream last night, but apparently that’s normal?”

He had read about this the other night in his book and he beamed, excited he could offer some insight. “Yeah, that’s normal for the third trimester. Do you have varicose veins at all? Any clumsiness?”

Y/N chuckled and he heard a drawer open and close. “Yes to clumsiness, no to varicose veins, thank you Dr. Styles.” She said hello to one of her co-workers and Harry listened to the sounds of her in the office, going out to the patio where she ate her lunches and spoke to him most days.

“What about leaky breasts?”

The sound of Y/N sputtering had him smirking, loving that he could still get a rise out of her from afar. “No, Harry, my breasts are not leaking. What the fuck kind of question is that?”

“Apparently it happens in the third trimester,” he replied. “Sorry, angel.”

“Fucking hell. Now I’ve got that to look forward to, I guess.”

“I’ll still love you when your breasts are leaking.”

She scoffed. “You better, it’s all your sperm’s fault we’re in this position anyway.”

“Hey!” They’d had this joke running for so long it no longer got him all moody and annoyed, instead just making him laugh. “You’re beautiful all the time, lovey.”

She was quiet for a moment. Harry knew that compliments made her uncomfortable, especially now, which was exactly why he showered her with them. “Thank you, H.”

“Harry?” He looked up and saw one of the stage managers standing in the door. “Time to go.”

“Okay,” he replied. Then, to Y/N, he said, “Sorry, love, time to go on stage. Give Peanut a kiss for me?”

He listened to her smooch her fingers with a smile, a tradition they’d started where she kissed her fingers and ran them along her belly, sharing his kiss with their child. “Good luck, babe. You’ll do amazing.”

With another I love you, he hung up, tossing his phone to couch before standing, checking his hair in the mirror. As expected, it was a bit messier, but at least his nerves were settled and his mind clear. Talking to her always brought him down a couple notches, even if it was just this and that. Any time he could talk to her was time well spent, in his book.

“Y/N, you’ve got to have a shower,” Hanna said, leaning onto the counter. She and Jamie were over for dinner and a movie night, having declared that Y/N needed more fun times. They claimed she was working too hard, but the truth was that it was about all that distracted her from missing Harry all the fucking time. Plus, she had her maternity leave to prepare for—she was training her replacement, a girl fresh out of college who she prayed wouldn’t steal her job.

Hanna and Jamie were trying to convince her she needed to have a baby shower, but she was unconvinced. She didn’t need people bringing her a bunch of gifts for her kid when they didn’t need them—Harry had made it clear that he could afford anything they needed and she didn’t want her friends and family to feel like they had to get them anything at all.

Plus, the idea of people all fawning over her pregnant belly made her uncomfortable as hell. “No,” she insisted again, turning off the oven. “Not only do I think they’re stupid, Harry would want to be there and he’s not home until two weeks before the due date.” She opened the oven door and pulled out the lasagna she had made, waving the oven mitt over the top to help cool it down. She was starving, although she had been in a perpetual state of hunger for eight months at this point.

“Harry doesn’t have to be there,” Jamie said, taking a sip of sparkling water. Her friends had promised not to drink around her in solidarity, which meant they were resigned to sparkling water in wine glasses and pretending there was liquor in it. “But if it’s important to you that he is, it can be right when he gets home. There’s no time stamp on when you need to do it. I think you might regret it if you don’t do it, Y/N.”

She sighed before pulling down plates for dinner. “I just—you both know I hate being the center of attention. A shower sounds awful.”

“Think of all the cute baby clothes you’ll get, though!” Hanna said, bustling over to your side to help cut the lasagna and serve.

“There’s also the privacy thing,” you reminded them. “I don’t know how Harry will feel about it.”

“Keep it small then.” Jamie grabbed his plate and followed you to the couch. You had given up on eating at a table where your belly didn’t fit comfortably quite a long time ago. “You’re both pretty private people—just invite your closest friends, your parents. It doesn’t have to be a big to-do.”

You took of a bite of the lasagna—fuck it was good—and then said, “But then what’s the point? If it’s just our close friends?”

“The point,” Hanna said with the roll of her eyes and a poke to your knee, “is that your pregnancy is a reason for celebration, not shame. You’re happy you’re having this baby, yeah?” You nodded. “And so is Harry?” You nodded again. “Then why not celebrate the little Styles kiddo with everyone you both love?”

There was some truth to what she was saying. Somewhere between the unexpectedness of it and the fact that you and Harry wanted to keep quiet about it, avoiding paparazzi photos and staying mostly inside, that you had felt like you were hiding it. That you should be ashamed to be the Girl Who Made Harry Styles Cancel Tour and the Girl Who Is Having Harry Styles’s Baby! Both of the headlines were real and they had sent you into more of a tizzy than you liked to admit. So many subconsciously the thoughts had festered, creating a shame that you hadn’t really spent the time to think about.

“I’ll talk to Harry,” you conceded, and Hanna beamed. “No promises. But if I do it, you two are planning it because I have no patience for that shit.” They both immediately began to jabber about themes and games and attired and Y/N sighed, resting back into the couch, her plate balanced on the rise of her stomach.

The next day, Y/N called Harry, who was on a short break between Japan and Argentina. He was spending the time in Italy doing a shoot for Gucci, which she was jealous of—under normal circumstances, she would’ve forced him to let her come along, but she was unfortunately not allowed to fly. He would be home in about two weeks, and she was itching the time to arrive. It had been too long within him in her bed, joining her in the shower, coming back sweaty from runs and rubbing his sweaty skin all over hers just to annoy her.

When she broached the subject of a baby shower, Harry immediately squealed, a sound she rarely heard from her boyfriend’s mouth. “A shower? Yes! Of course! Can I be there? Can you wait until I’m home?”

Of course he was over the moon at the idea. Now that she had asked him, she was confused how she had ever thought he wouldn’t be. “Yeah, I can wait, babe. Are you sure you want to? I didn’t know if it was too much, I know how private you’ve wanted to be about this all.”

“I appreciate that, love, but having a small one is completely okay. I don’t want my fear of people getting all up in our business preventing us from having a life, yeah?”

“Are you sure? Absolutely positive?”

“Yes angel, I’m sure.” She could heard shuffling in the background.

“H?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice garbled, “spilled some water on my pants and now it’s all over the floor, fuck.”

She giggled, the thought of Harry balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear, on the floor wiping up some spilled water. “Which pants are you wearing?”

“Just some linen ones,” he answered.

“…want to show me?”

Harry was quiet for a moment, and then a sigh came through her phone. “You’re such a little minx, Y/N.”

“And? You gonna show me?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmured. “Of course I will. Can’t refuse you anything, you know that.”

Y/N laid back on their shared bed, knowing that he was going to rile her up just how she needed. Two weeks couldn’t pass soon enough.

Harry pushed open the door to his house with a sigh of relief, the air conditioning hitting his skin immediately and the smell of Y/N and home wrapping through his body like a blanket of comfort. Usually when he got home she was downstairs waiting for him, a smile on her face, ready to pull him into her arms. But this time, she was nowhere to be found. He called her name through the house, setting down his duffel and letting his suitcase rest against the wall. The rest of his luggage was in the trunk of the car, but it could wait—he wanted to know where Y/N was.

However, he got no response. He dropped his keys to the counter and toed off his shoes before making his way through the house. The living room was empty, and porch lights were all off, so she was probably upstairs somewhere. He climbed the stairs, the floorboard creaking slightly under his weight, and he smiled. He had missed those sounds of home. When he crested the top of the stairs, he called her name, but still no response. The door to the nursery was shut tightly, as were the other doors, all except for the one to their room.

Once he reached it, he immediately knew where Y/N was. The sound of Phoebe Bridgers floated through the room, and under it was the sound of running water, Y/N’s voice singing along. She was having a shower and hadn’t even realized he was home.

The thought of surprising her was too enticing, even though he knew she would hate him for it. He pulled his hoodie over his head, his sunglasses resting on the dresser, and pushed his trousers and boxers down his legs. Being naked in a shower with his girl? A dream. He padded over to the open door of the ensuite bathroom, smiling at the sight of her body swaying to the music, eyes shut. They had a clear shower door along with a rain shower head that they both treasured deeply. It made their bathroom one of the best rooms in the house, the massive tub on the other end of the room making it even better.

When he pushed open the door to the shower, Y/N screamed, her eyes fluttering open immediately. “Harry! What the fuck!”

But his arms were already held out to her, laughing at her reaction. She gave him an annoyed glare, but then gave up. It had been too long since she had seen him to stay mad for long. “Hi, baby.” He mumbled into her hair when she folded into him. His hands ran up and down her spine, sighing into the feeling of closeness.

“Scared me half to death,” she told him, her head resting on his chest. “You know I hate it when you sneak up on me.”

“Couldn’t help myself.” He pressed an open mouthed smooch to her forehead and she smiled into his skin.

“I didn’t expect you back for another hour,” she said, lifting her head so her chin rested on his sternum, her eyes meeting his.

He nodded, another kiss to her forehead. He couldn’t stop putting his lips on her. “Plane left early, shockingly enough. Texted you when I was on my way, but I guess you didn’t see.”

She blushed. “I’ve been in here for a while, I guess.”

“Runnin’ up the water bill, huh?”

“Hush up.”

He laughed, before letting her move away. He grabbed their shampoo from the caddy and squeezed some into his palm, but then she caught his hand. Slowly she swiped the shampoo from his hand and massaged it between hers, twirling a finger for him to turn around. Harry followed her directions willingly, tipping his head back so she could wash his locks, the curls having long since relaxed after hours of him running his hands through them from the stress of traveling. His eyes closed easily, giving himself over completely to her control.

He was putty in her hands and didn’t mind one bit.

She pulled him a few steps back so the water hit his hair, and she ran her fingers through them, getting all the soap out. Then, she squeezed conditioner out, scrunching it into his ends before patting his shoulder. “You’re supposed to keep it in for a while, you know.”

“I did know that,” he informed her. Some stylist told him years ago, he just chose not to care. “Just annoying so I don’t.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. “For someone in the public eye, you’d think you gave a shit about what your hair looked like, and yet you’re either pinning it up with one of my clips or forgetting to wash it for days on end.”

He grabbed at her hips, desperate to touch her again. Fingers danced over her stretched skin, his eyes absorbing how her body had changed since he had last seen her in person. She had sent pictures, but they didn’t capture the sight of her belly hanging lower, her belly button popped out and her breasts heavy in his hands. Beauty in every way, he thought to himself. “Good thing you don’t mind.”

“Can you scrub my back?” She asked, changing the subject and handing him the loofah.

“‘course. Turn around for me, love.” He rubbed some soap onto her skin before rubbing the loofah over her sky, humming at her soft moans of pleasure at the sensation. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” she murmured. “Had this spot that’s itched for ages and couldn’t reach.”

He chuckled, brushing at her lower back. “Thankfully I’m back so I can scratch all your itches,” he teased, and she slapped at the hand that was wrapped around her waist playfully.

“I know of another itch you can scratch,” she said, tipping her head back to look him in the eye.

Harry could feel his dick plumping immediately. The sight of her naked and wet in front of him had done plenty to get him going, but when she suggested sex herself it always made him need her immediately. And on their bed, not some hotel sheets or a couch? A dream. “Yeah?”

“Missed your cock,” she whispered into his ear and Harry groaned, her hand coming down to wrap around him. The loofah was long forgotten on the floor of the shower when Harry turned them around, letting the water run through his conditioned hair before hauling her out of the shower. She squealed and he didn’t care. Wrapped her in a towel, just enough so she wasn’t dripping wet, and then was hoisting her into his arms, thankful for the extra time he had spent working out so he could lift his beautiful pregnant girlfriend.

Then, he carried her to the bed and hit all the spots that itched, clawing at the sheets and marking up her skin, reclaiming her as his, her name on his tongue the song he loved to sing most.

Afterwards, they laid curled up in bed, Y/N playing with the ends of Harry’s hair. They were tossing around baby names, as they often did in moments like this. She had brought out her phone list and they’d crossed through some more. It was coming down to the wire and they both were anxious, not having found the perfect name. Harry wanted something gender neutral, as did she, and they had decided long ago that if it was a girl, the middle name would be Anne, and Peter for a boy. So the name had to work with those names, and with Styles, which wasn’t an easy last name to work with.

Harry hummed as she scratched at his scalp, his thumb resting on her phone screen as he surveyed the list. Then, suddenly as if out of a dream, it came to him. “Emerson,” he said. His eyes lifted to hers, wide and waiting for her reply.

It was if the air knocked out of her chest, hands still in his hair. It was perfect. Simple, yet elegant, nick namable, and worked with the middle names. “Emerson Styles.”

The grin that spread across Harry’s face settled it immediately. “That’s our little Peanut,” he murmured, a tear pricking at the corner of his eye. “Emerson.”

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scribeofmorpheus · 3 years

Text

Himmeløyne [27/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N: Wowieeee, it's been a long time since I've written a chapter this long. It feels like the old days. But also, I wrote this without my glasses, so... there will be errors.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

“Do you think we’ll be hanged?” Fandral asked from his cell. It wasn’t intended as a question to the room. From his tone, he certainly wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but in need of anything besides the quiet of the prison area. “I think I’d hate a hanging. There hasn’t been one in centuries. You think it will be public?”

In the parallel cell, Sif paced about. Checking the golden barriers of her cage and then pounding her fists against the barrier couple of times. Each hit barely made a sound, let alone a dent. Adjacent to your own cell, Heimdall struggled to stay upright. He looked won out. In need of a long, long sleep. Normally, seeing him in distress would make you worry, but nothing felt normal with the amulet on.

“I’m not sure I’d prefer banishment either,” Fandral kept speaking.

“At least you’ get to keep your pretty head,” Volstagg chimed in, annoyed. His face was getting redder. It seemed his friend's ruminations were becoming tiresome to listen to. “Which is better than what I’ll do to you if you don’t shut up for a minute!”

“Yggdrasil’s branches!” Sif huffed. “I can’t hear myself think with you all yapping like starved pups!”

Her tone was different from everyone else’s. Sharper. That made them afraid. Talking was a way to keep distracted. With Sif’s outburst, everyone was forced to face that silence they were too afraid to let settle. Well, everyone except Heimdall and Hogun. You, on the other hand, weren’t feeling much of anything. Strange…

“Leave them be, Sif,” Hogun said softly. His face was calm, legs crossed at the ankle as he reclined comfortably on his cot, eyes closed. “Everything will work itself out.”

“You sound so certain,” she seemed surprised. “Why?”

“Because,” Hogun stretched, sitting up on crossed legs. “One way or another, everything always reaches a conclusion.”

Fandral let out a shaky laugh, “You’re a real comfort.”

Hogun shrugged, “Could be worse. You could have had Thor for a cellmate. You know how he hates small spaces. Especially if he’s confined in said small places.”

Sif tried to fight her smile, a reminiscent look on her face. All the warriors had it. Even Heimdall. It must have been a shared memory. Before your time.

“That big oaf,” Sif finally let her teeth show through the smile.

As the others began to trade anecdotes from the past, mainly about Thor’s claustrophobia and a previous stint in prison, Heimdall scooted closer to you, his back pressed up against the barrier o his cell, head turned at an angle to meet your eyes.

“Are you alright?” he squinted at the amulet and then focused on your face. He was searching for something, you weren’t quite sure he found. A moment later, he sighed. “Can you even hear me?”

Yes, you said. But he didn’t respond. He didn’t hear.

He wasn’t discouraged by his inability to communicate two ways with you. He soldiered through and found another question to ask, “Does it hurt?”

It doesn’t feel like anything, you said. Again, he didn’t hear.

He was frowning now, asking question after question as if the right one would get you to open your mouth. A task so simple, yet so difficult to do.

Minutes passed—or maybe hours—when guards came to round everyone out of their cells. Everyone except you. There was a commotion. Some unpleasant words exchanged. Someone tried to rile up the Captain from before. She ignored them, acting above reproach. An impenetrable shield, shining with true Asgardian worth. The guards never lowered your cell’s barrier, and after another minute—or hour—you finally registered that you were alone in the prison ward. It didn’t bother you though. Nothing did. Not even the spot of blood that marked the spot where two guards were knocked unconscious by Loki’s hands. Two more stood slack, in a headlock between Thor’s large arms. Frigga was with them too, casting sleep spells on the last few on guard duty.

The barrier to your cell faded in the blink of an eye. Faster than lightning, Loki rushed to your side, cradling your body against his own. He felt strong, like an anchor in the impossible storm. Smiling seemed the right thing to do, but you weren’t sure if you managed to.

He was trembling, his body hot from exertion. He kept his voice a whisper, his words only for you. “When I saw that the cells were empty, I thought… I don’t know what I thought. But you’re here. I wasn’t too late. I found you again. I have you in my arms again and I promise not to let go. Never to let go.”

Those words should have meant the world. You should have been elated. Relieved. But there was still nothing.

When you didn’t reply or lean into his touch, Loki pulled back to study you. He tugged at the clasp, but the amulet refused to separate. It took a while for Frigga to understand what was happening, to notice the amulet for what it was.

As Loki turned to use his magic against the amulet’s hold, Frigga raised a hand in warning, “No, Loki, wait—”

Loki’s magic was invasive to the amulets, and you felt the ancient device retaliate, slapping his magic away. He was knocked back on his ass before Frigga could finish her sentence.

She knelled next to you, tearing a piece of fabric from her skirts and chanting below a whisper. The fabric began to shimmer, imbued with magical essence.

“The amulet siphon’s magic, drains the wearer and attacks anyone who tries to take it off,” she explained. “You have to trick it into focusing its curse on something else, and then…” She wrapped the fabric around her hand and used it to unclasp the amulet. As it fell, the fabric was turned to nothing in a flash of cold fire. The amulet dropped onto the floor. Loki and Frigga were cautious not to touch it.

You shuddered to life. Everything bright and real. The floor was cold. Your body was every bit as tired as you remembered. And the pull of Loki’s magic returned. Beautiful. Right.

He rushed to hold you again, and this time you reciprocated. Wrapping your arms around his midriff and clinging onto him as if he were the source of all life.

“I love you,” you said abruptly.

The air left his lungs. His chest grew still. Unmoving. You loved how that sounded. His heart racing. Your words. Everything about that imperfect moment suddenly became perfect.

You laughed, euphoric. “I really do. I love you.”

You looked up to him, saw his shock and adoration and a mix of every look he’d ever given you worn under one instant. His lips quivered. He tried to speak. To breath. But he was stunned in silence.

“I regretted not telling you before,” you kissed him. Your body finding solace in the proximity. Your heart beating strong and steady, in a way it never had before. In a way that promised forever. To love forever. To live forever. To be near him forever. You had forgotten what it felt like to be exhilarated. To actually cherish each heartbeat. And, as if a flood had passed over your body, you felt renewed. Loved. You poured all of yourself into the kiss, into him. And he drank gleefully. Greedily.

“Ahem!” Thor cleared his throat, obviously flustered from witnessing you and Loki’s moment. “I’m… Uh—I’ll just… be… over there… keeping watch for patrols.” He stalked over to the staircase and pretended to keep watch. Cheeks turning tomato red.

The kiss finally broke and you both needed more than a few seconds to fill your lungs with air again.

Loki grinned from ear to ear, “To think, I’ve waited countless of your lifetimes to feel this way about anyone, and you only needed the one. I knew I was missing something since I was a little boy. You restored that part of me. Gave me the chance to see that I could be something whole. You’ve healed a broken prince, and I wish I could give you more but… I suppose… this will have to do…” He trailed off, staring intently at your face. “I’ll love you fiercely for every lifetime I spent without you. Half-mortal or not, I’ll love you a thousand year’s worth every moment of every day. For as long as we have.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“No. It’s just what you deserve.”

“Then you deserve the same. It goes both ways, so that makes two thousand year’s worth.”

He arched his brow, some of that self-assuredness he used to carry with him returned. “That’s technically not true.”

A mounted torch holder fell off the wall with a loud clang! Everyone turned to see Thor kicking the polished bronze ornament into a darkened corner. He held up his hands in a silent apology. Loki rolled his eyes.

“My brother with his insightful contribution,” Loki said, tongue-in-cheek. Loud enough for Thor to hear this time, he asked: “Would you like to make a little more noise? I don’t think every guard in the lower levels heard you.”

“I just might,” Thor grumbled, placing his hand close to another torch holder. Daring his brother to say another word.

“I don’t mean to cut this short,” Frigga interjected, helping you up off the floor. “But if we mean to do this, we must get to the others before Odin has had time to pass judgement. After that his will is paramount. Not even the Rite of Conscription will save your companions.”

You wobbled on your feet and Loki instinctively slinked an arm around your waist. You leaned into him.

“What is the Rite of Conscription?” you turned to Loki.

He frowned, “It’s… It’s the best of my bad ideas. Conscription can only be evoked by senior members of the Asgardian royal family. Once enacted, it places a subject in a position of servitude. They become agents of the court and crown. And it also means, they cannot be tried as traitors. Once conscripted, they have full protection under the King, or, in this case, Queen.”

“Sounds simple enough,” you said. Loki’s expression didn’t reassure though. “But… it’s not, is it?”

“No. Conscription for you, given how little we know about your true lifespan, it could end up being a life sentence.”

“But I have no home to return to. No family besides Heimdall…” you felt a wave of dizziness and had to clutch onto Loki’s jacket to keep steady. His fingers found yours. He twined them together, holding them close to his chest. You looked up at him. “Up until recently, I was ready to accept Asgard as my new home. For good.”

“But it wouldn’t just be you, my dear,” Frigga pointed out. “We’d have to conscript them all to Asgard’s service. Forever. They’d never have the chance to become anything different in the future. Neither would you.”

A life of servitude in exchange for freedom from Odin’s unpredictable wrath. Or was it his illogical fear? If you had to make the choice alone, you wouldn’t hesitate, even if it landed you in a precarious position in the future. But you couldn’t dare play arbiter of fate over everyone else’s lives. That would be selfish. And you’d be no better than Odin.

“I don’t think I can agree to this,” you said solemnly. “If it was only me that had to make the decision, then… maybe. But, I was only just beginning to get to know everyone. I don’t want to be a source of tension. And Heimdall’s the only family I have left. From what he’s told me, of the Great War, of his people, conscription would be a cruel thing to do without even talking to him about it. This whole mess started because of scheming and secrecy. We can’t continue that pattern.”

Frigga’s eyes flitted to your hand interlocked with Loki’s, a new thought percolating to the surface. “Family,” she murmured.

“What?” you asked.

“Handfasting!” she said hastily, her voice the loudest you’d ever heard it.

Loki’s eyes went large, “You can’t mean…”

Frigga nodded, taking one of your hands in each of her own.

“We don’t have a priestess,” Loki spoke too quick, anxious.

“I don’t—” you tried to get a word in, but Frigga talked over you.

“It’s the best alternative. At the very least, it will grant us a year of peace. A year we can use to persuade Odin to forgive whatever transgressions he found so grave that he’d risk imprisoning the protector of the Bi-frost. I know him. If he truly wanted this, he’d have acted without hesitancy. This—” she gestured towards the prison “—this is all to buy time. He’s undecided. So we must decide for him.”

Loki brushed off her explanation, unwilling to listen, “He’s the king. His will is law. If he truly didn’t want this, he wouldn’t have done it.”

Frigga shook her head, a wizened edge hanging on her words, “Only tyrants rule in that manner. And he is not his father.”

“What does Bor have to do with any of this?” Loki said, eyeing his mother suspiciously. She dismissed his prying with a flick of her wrist. She did it with the same flourish that Loki did.

You looked to Thor then back to Frigga, lost. “Is anyone going to tell me what handfasting is, or—”

“It’s a marriage,” Thor blurted out.

Now it was your turn to go silent.

“Subtle, brother. Thank you for that,” Loki chided. He placed his attentions back on you in an effort to explain things more smoothly, avoiding your gaze. “Handfasting isn’t exactly as binding as marriage. Handfasting is like… a trial period. It was used in arranged marriages to see if the betrothed were… agreeable. It was also a way to end disputes politically. Give the respective sides time to assess and recuperate.”

“I see,” was all you could muster, your voice small.

“In fact, Odin and I were handfasted,” Frigga said. “And if you have any doubts, remember, as Loki said, it isn’t binding. But as a betrothed, your family gains diplomatic immunity. And since Heimdall is Vanir, both of you fall under allies, not subjects.”¨

Finally, you found your voice. “What of Sif and the others?”

“They’d be protected too,” she assured you. “The handfasting period is a period of peace. If anyone acts out violently, then they disrespect the old ways. And Odin is too traditional. The old ways are his ways. His father’s ways. He will respect the year of peace. I’ll make sure of it.”

You took a sure, deep breath. Steeling yourself. You had dreamed of a future with Loki. Years spent discovering each other, learning of intimacies beyond touch. Sharing desires and thoughts. Spending days in the library, discovering more about your peoples, more about your magic. It may not have included a mysterious boy from Verdenspeil. Or a handfasting ceremony as a last-ditch effort to one-up Odin, but then again, your life on Asgard had been far from ideal. Loki waited for your answer, his eyes holding a darker edge to them; desire. Frigga and Thor waited with bated breath, both their postures too ramrod straight, towering over you. Expecting an answer.

“Then, my answer is yes.” You smiled, both anxious and excited. There was a shared sigh of relief in the room.

Frigga turned to her son, happy for him. He pressed his forehead to yours and mimicked your actions.

“Yes,” he said with a laugh caught in his throat.

Frigga whispered a spell, and suddenly, a spool of ribbon inked itself between your hand and Loki’s. Twisting into an infinity loop at the wrist. You thought of the snake from the cave, then immediately, you remembered the dream with the snake in the cave. Something in you stirred. Through your conjoined hands, you felt Loki’ magic reciprocate that feeling. A yearning. He looked at you with a devilish smirk, making heat spread in your belly. You almost turned away, face too hot.

Frigga’s chant ended. The lyrical music notes of it lost to your unfamiliar ears. Loki and Thor seemed to recognise some of it. You made it a point to remember to ask one of them about it. Especially since the last line made Loki blush.

“I need something to seal the incantation. Something with magic imbued,” Frigga said, searching the surroundings for anything that could work.

Thor opened his fist and after a few seconds of awkward silence, his hammer came crashing through the walls perpendicular to where he was facing. Rumble rolled to your feet, and Frigga looked at him with the most motherly expression you’d ever seen.

“Will this do?” Thor shrugged and held the hammer above you and Loki’s linked arms.

“Just,” Frigga said as she finished off the incantation. A torrent of light, holding all the colours of the rainbow encircled the spot of union.

Everything was as clear as a summer’s morning. Colour giving life to the room. Magic tingling everywhere.

Frigga cleared her throat, “Marked by magic, and witnessed by a prince of Asgard, do you, Loki, and your betrothed, vow to keep the peace and set aside any grudges and conflicts for one year? Do you vow to share, in confidence, the truth of your thoughts and the full extent of your feelings for one another, whatever they may be, however they might grow?”

“I vow,” he said, openly.

A roucus above the floor alerted you to a group of guards immobilising on your position. Distracted, your head tilted up, as if you could will yourself to see through the stone. Your heart quickened and Frigga nudged you. Thor’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move his hammer an inch.

“Dear, you have to vow,” she brought you back to the present.

“Yes. I vow,” you nodded, trying to stay calm.

Frigga concentrated her magic, her palms coming close. “Then, with these words, I bind you to one another. Bind you in peace. And hope a union will spring from your time together.”

Frigga’s eyebrows drew close together, her hands straining to maintain the magic. A bead of sweat meandered across her temple. And with a grunt, Mjölnir went flying into the wall, a burst of energy exploding out war. Frigga released her grip, panting. “It is done. You are handfasted.”

“Was that supposed to happen?” Thor pointed to the new hole in the wall.

Frigga shook her head, “No. There was…” she regarded you carefully, making sure not to let her face betray whatever she was thinking. “Resistance. It—It’s probably nothing. We’re all tired. We’ve all been through ordeals. It could simply be fatigue.”

You glanced at your tattoo. It had cracks along the artificial ribbon, as if unfinished. The colour of bright emeralds flawed by golden veins. Hints of cerulean in the right lighting. The triquetra, Mjölnir’s symbol, had formed an endless pattern on the ribbon. Easily missed, and of delicate line work. The prick and bristle of the tattoo's magic was bewildering. Sparking with a deeper connection than you could articulate. It wasn’t just the symbol of a bond, but an actual link to both you and Loki.

Loki rushed to his mother’s side, placing a hastened kiss on your forehead beforehand. Thor’s palm called out to Mjölnir and it returned with the sound of thunder rumbling outside. The hoard of guards descending upon you sounded closer. Their voices louder.

“Bit much, don’t you think?” Loki frowned at Thor.

“Subtlety is lost on me,” Thor said.

“Yes, well… you wouldn’t be my brother if it wasn’t.”

Thor and Loki shared a moment. Their bickering giving way to something deeper. Something neither of them would voice aloud anytime soon. It was trust. A different kind of love. Greater than blood.

“We should get out of here,” Thor began spinning his hammer and suddenly a gut-punching realisation hit you.

You yanked on Thor’s bulky arm, “Wait! Where’s Baldrick?”

All three of them looked at you, confused.

“Who?” they asked simultaneously.

~Odin

The child that had come through the portal with Heimdall and Y/N was strange. Odin had brought him to his study and asked him questions.

The boy—Baldrick as he came to introduce himself—possessed knowledge beyond his years. An aura to him, almost ancient, yet also too young, too powerful. Odin had given him a puzzle to solve, one that required intimate knowledge of magic and science. Baldrick had fiddled with the pentagon-shaped object with a blasé expression. He had solved it faster than Odin had when his father had presented him with the same challenge.

“Astounding,” Odin remarked as the boy set the puzzle down. Baldrick busied himself by staring at the books in Odin’s study. He had made it a point not to speak beyond saying his name.

The boy seemed so familiar. A likeness in his small face.

Odin knew he was biding time by trying to figure out how Baldrick’s mind worked, but he was thankful for the distraction. When Loki had pounded at his door, demanding an audience, Baldrick had studied Odin as if he was the old man and Odin was the boy. It was a peculiar feeling.

When Aisling had been the one to knock on his door, hiding her true thoughts behind pleasantries, he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. A judgement needed to be passed. After all, the Allfather does not lash out on a whim. He’s concise. Calculative. And pragmatic. And he had pushed things too far when he’d sent the Destroyer.

Regret. That’s what had been eating him since Loki fell unconscious. And what had he done once his son awoke? Cowered away. All in the name of protecting his family’s legacy and keeping the truth of his father’s reign buried. It was his curse. His duty. But, at least it hurt less than what he did to Hela. That was a transgression he could never make right, failing as a father.

He left the boy in his study. Odin feared he may have been more perceptive to emotion. And emotion was the last thing he cared to face.

Heimdall was held down by the straining arm of a member of the royal guard. His knees kissing stone. Beside him, Sif and her companions held the same posture; necks refusing to stay weighed down, heads facing Odin with arms tied behind their backs, armour stripped for simple clothing.

“What am I to do with you?” Odin finally spoke. His fingers ghosted over the intricate designs carved into his stave, feeling the schism between each drawn line and folded knot; feeling the obvious divide in his family and peoples. With a sigh, he continued, “Disobedience, theft, evasion and escape. Worst of all, you all knowingly defied the will of your king. One son wasted away in a tower, the other in taverns. And Frigga… My health is barely as it was. What would you have me do? Make an example of you? Show you lenience? Leave you to the mercy of the Destroyer?”

“Do as you wish. I have made my peace with my decisions, and I’d do it all again to ensure my daughter was safe,” Heimdall said.

His voice wasn’t intended to sound defiant, but lately, to Odin’s suspicious ears, everything sounded suspect.

“Safe?” Odin didn’t mean to condescend, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “And can you say the same for everyone in this room? Sif? Volstagg? Hogun? Even you, Fandral? Could you all say that you’d go to the gallows for an outsider? A mortal?”

“Half. Mortal.” Heimdall corrected. A withheld threat somewhere beneath his red-hot glare.

“Now, hold on a minute,” Fandral’s voice fumbled, “that seems an overreaction.”

“Is it not part of our teachings to show benevolence to those that see us as more?” Sif challenged, hurling the guard that held her down over her shoulder. “A mere mortal? You’re the Allfather, the one Midgardians pray to, the one whose story they carve onto mountains. Even if she wasn’t Heimdall’s daughter, it is our duty to protect her, to protect all of them.”

The guard tried to retaliate, but Odin held up his hand, stopping their advances.

“Your notions are young,” Odin said with a sad smile. “I miss seeing the world as simply as you all do, but that is not our reality. And that is why you do not bear the weight of a ruler. I hope none of you do.”

Heimdall watched him closely as he stood to walk closer. Some of that trust they’d built over years of infighting and war was still there, despite them both trying to act otherwise. Bonds of war and patricide were hard to shake.

“Are you still willing to risk everything to keep this fragile peace? This lie?” Heimdall asked. When Odin did not give an answer, Heimdall lamented to himself, “So, this is how it is then.”

“I must pass judgement now. Chaos cannot stand,” Odin quieted the room with a strike of his stave. The room grew very still. Then, Thor’s hammer burst through the door, causing a commotion.

Odin’s breath was stolen away when he saw Frigga stride in a few paces behind their son. And his heart stopped entirely when he saw the tell-tale ribbon tattoo shared between Loki and Y/N.

To his surprise, he was relieved.

“No judgement shall be passed today!” Frigga announced. “No judgement shall be passed until the year is over.” She walked over to pull attention to Loki and Y/N’s matching tattoos. “They are handfasted, and the rules of the old ways are clear. Y/N and her Father, being both of the Vanir, both of my homeworld, cannot be harmed. Nor can they be tried by the king of another realm. Especially since it is your son who is handfasted.”

Odin smiled, and everyone in the room was shocked by his response, “The old ways are sacred, and so, I accept your conditions.” His smile grew wider, “My Queen.”

Frigga walked over to his side easily.

He struck his stave once more and gestured for the guards to stand down. Y/N rushed to Heimdall’s side helping him up, while Sif and Thor and the Warriors Three had their own little reunion.

Yes, he thought to himself. This is a far better outcome.

“Mark today as the start of a passive year. A year of peace,” he decreed.

“Where’s Baldrick?” Y/N demanded, a protective scowl on her face.

Curious, he thought. That they’d form such a bond in such small time. The boy obviously had a way of influencing those around him. Albeit, passively.

Odin was about to answer when the boy shimmered into the room as if summoned, a favourite of Loki’s tricks. Loki stared at the boy, noticing the same thing.

“I am here,” Baldrick said. Y/N took large strides to his side and offered her hand to him. Baldrick walked to the other side, accepting the arm that wasn’t marked by the tattoo instead.

“Well, that was rather unpleasant,” Volstagg stretched, his stomach growling deeply. “How about some good, old fashioned merriment and song tonight?”

“Aye! I have a bone to pick with you all for abandoning me in a tavern to go off on your own adventure,” Thor pouted.

Sif ribbed his arm casually, “You were brooding. You’re utterly useless when you brood.”

“I am not!” he refuted.

“You are too,” Fandral and Loki said simultaneously.

Hogun patted Thor’s back, a teasing smirk on his lips, “Wait until you hear of the snake made of stone.”

Frigga walked over to Loki’s side, whispering something in his ear. He adjusted his collar as if he couldn’t breathe. His gaze fell on Y/N as he strode purposefully to her side. But before he could reach her, Heimdall blocked his path, imposing and large as he looked down at him with a set jaw.

“You and I have much to discuss,” Heimdall glanced at the handfasting tattoo with disapproval. “But,” he sighed, letting his body shrink lower, “it can wait till the morning, I suppose. Your father and I have much to sort through.” He turned to Odin and they both nodded in agreement.

Loki heaved a sigh when Heimdall turned his back. Y/N and Loki shared a secret laugh--the kind Odin had shared with Frigga in youth--before he got on his knee and extended his hand to the small boy.

“I’m Loki,” he said. “I take it, you’re Baldrick?”

Heimdall came to stand close to Odin, arms folded. “Where do we go from here?”

Odin sat back on his throne, his bones aching. “We let them savour their youth.”

“And what happens once the year is done?”

Odin eyes the dispersing crowd, unsure of how to answer that question.

To be continued...

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girls-scenarios · 4 years

Text

Inspired

Idol: Heejin (Loona)

Prompt: A scenario with heejin(loona) where she comes to see your soccer game and affter the game you just go home and chill super fluffy(myb it can be like reader's team losses the game and heejin is trying to comfort reader at home)

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Oh my god I finally finished this. I’ve been really struggling with writer’s block as the stress of doing work and school from home has caught up from me. I know this isn’t my best work, but I hope that you all enjoy, and that you’re all doing well and staying safe!

The sun was still bright in the sky when Heejin approached the field, shielding her eyes as she squinted out over the players, trying to spot you. To say that she was excited would be an understatement. She’d been to a few of your games before, and even though she didn’t really understand the game, she always loved to watch you play. The way you acted on the field gave her butterflies, and she always watched with bated breath, eyes only on you as you poured your passion into the game. It gave her inspiration, and she loved drawing you in action, because that was when you looked the coolest.

As she found a seat, she spotted you and smiled, pulling her sketchbook from her bag. You were standing and talking with your team, running your hand through your hair with your other hand on your hip, your eyes focused and determined. Even though she wanted to call out to you, she stayed quiet, watching until your team finished the talk with a chant before she called out your name to catch your attention.

“(Y/N)! Over here!”

At the sound of her voice, you perked up immediately, looking up into the seats to find her. She stood and waved, and you caught her eyes and waved in return, smiling widely as she mouthed a “good luck” and gave you a thumbs up. Then your coach called for you, so you waved one last time, mouthed a thank you, and jogged off to join the rest of your team, leaving her to settle back into her seat and pull out her pencils, eyes wide and ready to watch you play.

It wasn’t long into the game that the mood switched. Even though she didn’t know how to play soccer, she could tell your team was losing, and that you were upset. You were frowning as you ran alongside one of your team members, your eyebrows furrowed and your sharp eyes glaring at the net as if to undo the goal. A whistle blew and beside her, someone grumbled about unfair referees. She could just frown and look down at her half-finished drawing, thankful she’d finished your expression before the game turned south.

She could only cheer you on and hope things turned out for the better.

When the final whistle blew, Heejin could only bite her lip at the score and watch as you hung your head, breathing heavily and leaning on a teammate. This was the first time she’d ever seen you lose, and it was hard for her to see you so obviously upset. Especially when she knew that she didn’t know the game well enough to try and cheer you up by complimenting your skills. Somehow, she knew that “you kick well” wasn’t going to cut it.

Sighing, she placed her pencils back into her bag and looked down at her drawing of you. Like always, it was incredible: your expression was serious, focused, yet energetic. You loved playing soccer, and she loved portraying that through her art. The drawing was of you in motion, chasing after the soccer ball, your cleats digging into the ground and your shirt and hair flowing from the momentum and the wind. The dirt on your uniform just helped add to the realness and the drawing seemed to explode from the page, but she found herself sad that she couldn’t draw you in celebration, your eyes brimming with pride as you came to find her in the stands.

As she closed her sketchbook, your team finishing shaking hands from the winning team and slumped over to the coach, ready to head back to the locker rooms. Swallowing, she put the rest of her things away and stood up, clutching at her bag and wondering what she should say. Would you even want her to say anything? Would you want to see her? She wasn’t sure, but she still wanted to see you, so she sent you a message and waited in the parking lot until you came back, looking refreshed but still dejected.

“You played well today,” she said as you approached, giving you her best smile and holding out her arms. She really meant it: to her, you were always the best player on the field. But her compliment only made you sigh, a small, sad smile on your lips as you accepted her hug, all but slumping into her arms.

“I played my worst game today,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t know what was wrong with me. It was like my best wasn’t good enough.” As you pulled away, you took her hand. “But thank you for staying.”

“Of course I’d stay, you’re my partner.” She squeezed your hand, wishing the right words would come to her. She hated seeing you like this. “Why don’t we go home and relax? You’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah.” You sighed again, nodding your head and letting her take the lead. “That sounds like a good idea to me. Let’s go to my place.”

The silence on the walk home was awkward, but Heejin couldn’t find the right words to break it. She didn’t know how to explain the way she loved watching you play, or how cool you looked even if your team had lost. She wasn’t sure how to say that the loss didn’t make her love you any less, or how to say that your playing inspired her more than anything else. She was used to smiling and telling you how proud she was after games, and listening to you excitedly talk about the plays of the game. This was something totally different. But by the time the two of you were in your bedroom, she couldn’t deal with the somber feeling any longer.

“Here, sit down. I’ll give you a massage.” She patted your chair and placed her bag on your desk, giving you a smile. “You deserve it.”

“Really?” You paused, then sat in the chair, the aspect of a massage winning over your want to dispute her claim. Your shoulders were tense, and she frowned as she worked at your muscles, then felt better as she felt you relax into her familiar hands.

“(Y/N),” she started, her voice softer than usual. “I think your amazing. Seriously. I don’t know much about soccer, but you’re the only one I watch on the field. You always look so confident and determined. I admire how passionate you are for the game, even on days like this.”

“I don’t know if I’m amazing,” you responded after a pause, leaning back to look up at her. “I can’t help but think if I had made some better decisions on the field, my team would have won. But I get into my head sometimes.”

“It’s not your fault your team lost. We all have our bad days. And if scoring all the goals for your team is a bad day, then the world doesn’t stand a chance against you on a good day!” She smiled brightly and you chuckled at her joke, relaxing a bit more under her touch.

“You think so?”

“I know so. Plus, isn’t it early in the season?”

“You’re right. It wasn’t a huge game. But I still would have rather we won.”

“I understand that,” she said with a little laugh, “I push myself a lot too, and I like perfection. But I mean it when I say that watching you play inspires me. I’m still proud of you today.”

You finally returned her smile, reaching up to catch and hold one of your hands. “Thanks, I needed this. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Relief washed over her at the sight of your smile, and she internally congratulated herself on cheering you up.

“Hey, what did you mean about inspiring you though?” You blinked up at her, slightly confused. “I mean, you don’t play sports or anything.”

At this, she flushed slightly, glancing away. “I meant that you inspire me to, um, draw.”

“Draw? Really?” You sat up and turned to face her, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well....” Once again, words left her, so she dropped your hand and turned to the desk to pull out her sketchbook. It was a bit embarrassing, looking at the carefully drawn portraits, but she had always wanted to show them to you. She was proud of them after all. “Here, this is the one I drew today.”

As soon as she handed over the sketchbook, you let out an impressed gasp, your mouth falling open as your eyes scanned the page. For a moment, you were quiet, and she shifted nervously from foot to foot, her heart picking up in her chest. Then you looked up at her with wide eyes and a soft smile.

“This is me, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Wow. I mean, I look incredible. And you drew this today?”

“Yep.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “That’s how I saw you today.”

“Babe, you made me look so cool.” You looked back down at the drawing and laughed softly. “This is awesome!”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said truthfully, once again feeling relieved.

“And you do this every time you come to one of my games?”

“Like I said, you inspire me. You’re the perfect subject.”

“That’s awesome,” you repeated, then looked up at her with eyes full of affection, capturing her hand in yours again. “You’re incredible. I always knew you were an amazing artist, but this is just.... I really love them.” You squeezed her hand and pulled her closer. “This made me feel a lot better. About today and about myself. So thank you.”

“Of course.” She beamed proudly and let you pull her into your arms for a tight hug. The somber mood had disappeared, leaving the room bright and affectionate, and Heejin had never been so happy to be an artist. “I did it because I love you.”

“I love you too. You make me wonder how I got so lucky.”

#femifics #loona #heejin #loona scenarios #heejin scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups

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umccall71 · 4 years

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Chapter 22

Characters: Prince Liam and MC Lady Sexy

Rating:Mature content includes profanity, sexual content,talks about depression.

Word Count:3885

Disclaimer:All characters are property of Pixelberry except my OC Lady Saige. The use of these characters are for entertainment only and i am only borrowing them.

Summary:After a summer of a lifetime,Prince Liam thought he could have it all.He was carefree, free,, and sharing time with the woman of his dreams.When life was easy, a balancing act between love and duty, he realizes his truths are lies, wrong is right, and decisions do have consequences. Lady Saige never imagined she would be one of his consequences.When an utter act horror throws her world into a tailspin.

Warning: This series contains subject matter of depression and hopelessness.The story may trigger certain individuals. Please be advised. If your reading this series you are acknowledging you are 18+.

A/N:Sorry for the long delay.Things have been hectic in my life for a bit chaotic.I had to take some time to focus on my health. I feel horrible that it’s been so long.Thanks for your understanding and support for those still interested in this story.

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@eadanga @ao719 @carabethpow @lauradowning29 @elles-choices @hopefulmoonobject @indiacater @3pawandme @blackcoffee @simsvetements @wughhumans @drakesensworld @romanticatheart-posts @fantasy-of-fiction @choices97 @gibbles82 @furiousherringoperatortoad @marietrinmimi @whenyourheartskipsabeat @kuladekiwi @custaroonie @smalltalk88 @jovialyouthmusic @sashatrr @jared2612 @the-soot-sprite @ownworldresident @silverofdreams @rainbowsinthestorm @silviasutton1989 @lodberg @kingliam2019 @dcbbw

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It had been 48 hours since the decision had been made to go public about the nightmare and tragedy that had changed the very core of their life together. Liam had Bastien coordinate with the office for Ana De Luca to get the interview scheduled. This was going to be such an exposed moment for her, for them. The monarchy had a history of concealing the not so sunny facets from the people. The faces of the crown only showed that which would be received well by the Cordonian citizens. It was rare that any bad news was willingly shared, especially such a heinous crime against the crown by the crown. Liam made sure to check in repeatedly with Saige if she was certain that she would want to move forward with the interview. He made sure that Miss DeLuca understood that his Queen had the final say in whether she wanted to broadcast the interview, or how much got shared.

“Bastien, is everything prepared in the gazebo for the interview?”, Liam inquired.

“Your majesty, Miss DeLuca is aware that her majesty has the final call on what topics will be covered during the interview. She has also signed a non-disclosure agreement. There will be minimal members of the press present during the interview to assure that Queen Saige is completely at ease.”

Liam nodded, clapped Bastien on the shoulder and thanked him, “Bastien, it means a great deal to myself and Saige for all of your support during these last several months. There are a few trusted people we would turn to in these dark days. “

Bastien simply nodded and excused himself to complete the task at hand. “Sir, I will notify you when she arrives.” He turned on his heel after bowing to his monarch.

Liam adjusted his three-piece steel-gray suit as he made his way down the corridor from the study to the master suite to meet Saige to escort her to the gazebo.

“There will be better days”, she chanted quietly to herself in front of her mirror. Saige was doing her best to hold it together as she finished dressing for her interview.

Liam held onto the door jam as he watched her lovingly and determined to see her through this journey He watched as Saige tied the sash of her pale pink maxi dress that cascaded around her baby bump. She slid on the wedge heels and dabbed a little lip gloss on her supple lips. He interrupted her thought, “it’s really hard to make perfection any better.”

Saige smiled at her handsome husband that stood admiring her from the door. Liam moves closer to her and came to stand behind her in the mirror. He nuzzled her neck and gently kissed her cheek. “I’ll do my best not to mess up your make up, although you don’t really need it. Your beautiful as you are my love. “

Liam’s hands cupped her belly feeling his little love fluttering slightly. “I will never cease to be amazed at this feeling”, his blue eyes flashed brightly at the overwhelming feeling of love.

“Liam, is it time to go yet ?”, she asked barely audible. Saige shook her hands trying to release the slight tension from the bundle of nerve building in her body. Saige knew that once her story was shared that she may face some backlash from supporters of the former king. Here she was a virtual stranger in this country coming forward to reveal the atrocities exposed against her. All she wanted was to love Liam and hopefully love this child with fierce protectiveness. She recounted the night she and Liam made love and she professed her desire to start a family with him. He was a guiding force in these trying times. She had spent most of her life depending on herself or her dad. He was gone and she never had the forethought to think about a future that included a family of her own.

Liam turned her face and gently kissed her lips. “Saige, you have nothing to fear from telling the truth. I’m right beside you.”, he traced his thumb along her porcelain skin. “We are a team that cannot be taken for granted. I love you… I love our child… and I love the future we have to look forward to sharing.” He pulled her close to his chest, sending his warmth and safety through his embrace.

“Let’s go…you are going to make the country love you just as much as I do… if that’s possible.”Liam took Saige by the hand and led her out of the doors of the estate down to the gazebo.

*********

The Interview

Ana DeLuca: Ladies and gentlemen, I am joined today at the beautiful duchy Valtoria by King Liam and Queen Saige of Cordonia. The royals have allowed us a glimpse into what it’s been like for them over the last few months. Yes… we have wondered why the silence from the royal family, but soon we will learn some answers.

“Thank you both for allowing me into your home and a peek into your lives. So what has it been like for the two of you since the passing of the former king?”

Liam grasped Saige’s hand reassuringly and locked blue eyes as they composed themselves to answer.

King Liam: Thank you for having us Ms.DeLuca. It’s been quite a transition for our family in the last several months. My father… taking his life was surprisingly cowardice. He took his life to keep from facing his own crimes. He left behind more questions than answers. There were things that my father has been believed to have done throughout his reign here in Cordonia, but his recent actions have torn a hole in the fabric of our lives. The story we share is not so much of mine...as it is my queen’s.”

He turned slightly and placed a tender kiss on Saige's temple. He whispered softly to her, “love, the decision is yours as to how much is shared today. I love you and I am proud of you.”

Saige nodded and smiled softly, but it was clear to anyone that saw her that she was nervous and unsure. She gazed into Liam’s loving eyes and took a deep breath. She drew strength from him at that moment and every moment since her attack. Ana noticed her reluctance and smiled to the queen mouthing, “it’s okay.”

Ana DeLuca: “So Your majesty, I understand that there has been a lot of change in your life in recent months. Can you share with the Cordonian people a little about that?”

Queen Saige: “Ms. DeLuca, thank you for allowing us to speak to the citizens of Cordonia through your voice. This country has become my home. Meeting Liam has been the greatest joy of my life until… until we learned that we were expecting. Liam has been a godsend for me in these trying times.”

The blonde reporter seemed a bit puzzled by her response. Most people would be elated to have a new child on the way. Her eyes darted back and forth between the royal couple trying to decide how much to divulge to the public. Saige smoothed the fabric of her dress unknowingly. She tried to keep her emotions in check as she opened her personal pandora’s box. Saige anticipated the whispers and snide remark when her truth was revealed. King Constantine...who would believe the beloved former king had violated her? She glanced at Liam and allowed her truth to flow.

Queen Saige: “Getting married, and starting a family would be an extraordinary gift, but our path was fraught. I came to Cordonia as part of a summer trip to spend time with my best friend from college… Duchess Olivia, but back then she just Liv to me. She convinced me to spend some time in her beautiful home country and it was one of the best decisions I ever made.” She smiled and gently stroked Liam’s hand. “We came to spend an afternoon with some of her friends at a quiet get together, and it was there I met Liam...Prince Liam, only I hadn’t learned of his title just yet. We spent time together just talking and sharing some laughs. I was charmed by him immediately, but he was so down to earth. It was so amazingly easy to open up to him.”

Ana DeLuca: “ So are you saying you fell for each other instantly?” Ana leaned forward , she had become engrossed in their story. She smiled and looked between the two entranced.

King Liam: “ For me it certainly was… she's beautiful, charming, witty, compassionate, caring, intelligent… what’s not to love about her?” He smirked and lifted her hand to place a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

Queen Saige: “There was certainly a connection right away. Liam is a hard man to get out of your head. He spent the next several days trying to convince me to go out with him. He had dozens of flower bouquets sent every hour from sun up to sun down to Olivia’s estate. Finally, when the last arrangement had taken over her home, it was delivered with a note with his phone number asking me to call him.” Saige giggled reminiscing about the first time she allowed him into her heart. “I contemplated shortly and ended up calling him and we made plans for a first date. He took me to a lovely greek restaurant that we were shared alone. I had no idea that he emptied the place out so that we would have some privacy. It was that night I finally learned that he a prince.”

Liam's eyes were staring adoringly at her lips, and he was so in love… that much was evident to anyone. The way he would brush a stray tendril of her auburn locks out her face, the way he would grasp her hand and not let go, the smile that never left his face as they recounted their love story.

Queen Saige: “After that night we spent every free minute together that was allowed. We had late-night phone calls and it was the happiest I had been in a really long time. Then he did me the honor of inviting me to a ball at the palace. He surprised me with a beautiful gown and it was a night to remember, until it quickly turned into a night I couldn't forget.” Her facial expression became sullen, panic-stricken when she thought back to the night she first encountered the former king. “ That night’s events drive me from the palace and … and from Cordonia never being quite the same.”

Liam squeezed her hand and took over as she collected her thoughts. He knew this dark period caused her to shut down with everyone… including him.

King Liam: “ Little did I know that a short time later , Saige would disappear from my life. It had been months since she left without a word or forwarding address that I finally laid eyes on her again. It broke my heart to learn why she left, but I was grateful to be able to share with her what I truly felt...love... I loved her and had to make certain she knew.”

Liam seemed wistful as he thought of that tumultuous time. “After we both shared a tender reunion and I learned the truth, I realized I did not want to lose her again … so I proposed.”

The two of them happily smiled at the memory. “We married a short time later in Texas and again when we landed in Cordonia surrounded by a few family and close friends.”

Ana DeLuca: “So no one knew you two were married?”

King Liam: “ There were a few people that knew but respected our decision to make our announcement to the public. When the decision of my brother to step down was shared and it was known that I would be next in line for the crown and Saige agreed that we would be okay if I ascended to the throne, I had no choice but to go public being my father was pushing for a social season, but there was no need. I had my bride, my queen.” There was such tenderness in his gaze as he pronounced his love to the world.

Ana DeLuca: “ You announced the same night of the coronation that you two were going to become parents. Congratulations by the way. This is truly a monumental time for you two, for the monarchy.”

Queen Saige: “Thank you for your kind words...and yes it should have been an exciting time, but something changed a week after the coronation. You see, my husband was expected in Italy for a conference and I happen to have a doctor’s appointment the day after he left so I could not go with him.” Saige’s voice dropped low as she weighed the decision to open up.

“We chatted that night before bed and I had chosen to turn in early. Little did I know that there were other plans in the works that night. I woke up a short time later wanting a snack. It was then that I heard a noise coming from the living area. I thought nothing of it as I went to grab something to eat and a bottle of water.”

The queen became visibly affected as she continued to explain her personal hell in the palace. Her eyes became dampened with unshed tears, she could not allow her grief to stand in the way of her moment to free her spirit again.

“ I walked down the darkened hallway to be met by an enormous hand choking me into silence. This night, i was attacked within my home ...in my living room.”

Saige’s leg began to bounce from the nerves trying to bubble up. She wanted to run away, but she knew that wasn’t her answer. She couldn’t do that to Liam, she couldn’t do it to herself .She suddenly took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked at loving husband. She knew that she needed to rely on his strength more than even right now.

“That night, I was beaten and violently raped by … the former king. He had two guards, one of which was my own to hold me down and tear my clothing from my body. He… he uttered such vile things as he hurt me. His hand was over my mouth the entire time. He didn’t care the agonizing pain as I shook, pleading with my eyes to stop hurting me. Not to hurt my baby, but he didn’t… he never gave a damn what hell he put me through.”

Saige bit her inner cheek fighting like hell to keep from breaking down. She couldn’t let him steal this moment in time from her, from his grave. She had her family to think about. Without thinking her free hand moved down her body and gently cupped her belly. She felt a flutter within her willing her to continue to stand up to the demon that shared Liam’s bloodline.

“I spent days in the hospital… mostly unconscious… unaware of what had happened to me. I had no idea that my husband had to rush home to find out the atrocities that had been committed against us. I had no idea how to feel when I opened my eyes… finally and learned where I was and the fallout from king Constantine. The true extent of what he’d stolen from is that night.”

Saige looked down to her belly and willed herself to keep it together. Liam saw the pain etched in her porcelain features. Her beautiful blue eyes that were so full of pain, yet hopeful that something good could come of this. He squeezed her hand and nodded. Saige knew with this man , she was going to be okay. Liam looked at Ana DeLuca baring a determined look in his eyes. He took over the moment.

King Liam: “I learned while my wife was out fighting for our baby’s life that she was severely beaten and damage during the heinous act caused her to lose our child.”

Ana looked bewildered as her eyes darted back and forth between the royals and then to the queen’s abdomen. Liam sensed her confusion and continued.

“ The meeting I had a short time after arriving with the doctor I learned of the miscarriage and I also learned that we were not expecting one child...but two. How do you process such a gift and a heartache at the same time? I had to think about how we would break the news to my queen.”

The sight of a monarch visibly emotionally moved by reliving the loss of a child bought Ana to tears. She tried to quickly recollect herself to not deviate from the interview.

Ana DeLuca: “King Liam, how did you come to terms with the loss of your child, your heir?”

King Liam:” I realize that the baby, our baby was the heir… but he or she was our family member first.That was a baby that we loved and planned for ...together. What do you do with the promise that is unrealized? Where do the future first experiences go? The first smile, the first steps, the first time hearing that little one call me daddy, the first giggles, the first steps, the first time planning a birthday, our first holiday as a family… What do you do with that?”

Silence as Ana tried to process the hypothetical question. She saw a glimpse of the personal hell that her king and queen, Cordonia’s king and queen had been suffering. It made sense in a news flash sort of way that they were quiet in their personal life for a bit.As if reading her mind, Liam chimed in again.

“I had to… in that moment focus on helping my wife heal physically and emotionally. We were both reeling from the reality that our little family would be missing a part of our dream. I also had to come to grasp the abominable actions of the man whose father had violated my wife and caused the death of our unborn child.”

Liam pauses at the realization hearing himself speaking aloud about how his world was turned upside down by his father’s actions.

“Apparently the former king was a coward unwilling to face consequences of his actions.Rather than atone for going to his sins, he chose to take his own life. Here it was we were expecting the next generation of the Rhys royal bloodline, and to have a future cut short by our own family member.”

Liam clenched his fist at the thought of what injustice his father had perpetrated against Saige. He felt for what had gone through… still was going through at the hands of his father.

Ana beautifully refocused the moment back to the queen.It was not lost on her the reaction as she listened intently as Liam shared the most devastating moment of her life.

Ana De Luca: “ma’am what do you want the citizens of Cordonia to take away from this interview?”

Saige paused thoughtfully as she considered what message she wanted to carry forward.

Queen Saige: “I want the citizens, I want our child to know that you can rise against all odds. You will see some dark times, but being surrounded by the people you love...and that love you, there is a better tomorrow. The pain will seem overwhelming and endless, but you must find a way to get out of bed in the morning… start to hope again by putting one foot in front of the other. I know by the grace of my king, I now feel a sense of purpose. We are going to invest that extra love into the child that will share life upon this world. I have to think that heaven must have made room for an angel a little early. I will think of our little that’s not able to walk amongst us here when I look into the eyes of the baby that’s on the way. When I hear the laughter of a Cordonian child, I will smile thinking of the laughter that was lost earlier this year. We did need some time to grieve and to pick ourselves up and continue pressing forward… but still I’ll rise … I’ll rise to fight another day.

Ana DeLuca: “Do you have any final words for our viewers king Liam?”

Liam smiled proudly at his queen. He felt this overwhelming feeling growing in his chest. He watched her conquer her fear. His father couldn’t hurt her anymore. She faced her boogie man in front of the country with such strength and determination.He stood and dropped down to one knee… bowing to his Queen.

King Liam: “I couldn’t say it any better than my queen. I echo her words and look forward to peace and prosperity for Cordonia. I want the best for our country and for our family.”

Ana DeLuca: “Thank you both your majesties for allowing us to share a glimpse into your worlds.”

Ana faced the camera and bid farewell to the viewers .

“Thank you for spending time with your monarchs Cordonia. We look forward to meeting the new heir once he or she make their entrance into the world.”

“And cut”... the cameras were turned off and the lights were dimmed.

Liam’s strong arms wrapped around his wife and he cupped her face in his hands. He smiled as he softly placed a tender kiss to the top of Saige’s head. “I am so very proud of you my love.”

She released a breath she did not realize she was holding. She outstretched her hands grabbing on his face. “I was so nervous Liam, but you being here meant the world to me.” She planted a quick peck on his lips.

He acknowledged Ana and her crew before turning to leave. “Ana, thank you for allowing us time to share our story. My head of security will see you to your transportation. Have a good night.”

Liam led Saige to the edge of the waters surrounding Valtoria and wrapped his arm around her waist. They both veered our into the orangish purple hues that made up the perfect sunset that was minutes away from saying good night to the sun. There was something so serene about watching the skies tranquil above Cordonia. They sat in the grassy field beside the flowing waters thinking about the remains of the day. King Liam sat with his legs opened inviting his queen to lean back to take a respite from the world. Saige leaned back into his chest, raised her hand to lace with his fingers , he reached out his large hand and gently laid it upon her growing belly.

He whispered in her ear, “ you were amazing love, tomorrow we shall meet with our people … a kingdom gained. I love you and our babies here and lost.”

They sat nestled in the comfort of each other’s arms.Saige closed her eyes and smiled softly in the warmth of his love. “Tomorrow…we put one foot in front of the other to welcome a new day.”

#king liam #king liam x mc #pixelberry #the royal romance #mc x king liam #the royal heir #liam x mc pregnancy #trh

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loveactionsspeaklouder · 4 years

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dangerous love - erling haaland & jadon sancho fanfic

Part 1 - Beginning

Grace had spent the last thirty minutes pacing around the bedroom, within that time she had almost covered every corner nearly five times and changed outfits over three times. It wasn’t that she was nervous about what was happening today; she was more an emotional wreck. She hadn’t been to a football stadium in over a year; after her first and last break-up, Grace promised herself she would leave football behind and she did just that, until now.

Grace didn’t know whether she should be happy or sad about the situation she was in. She had only been living in Dortmund for less than a year and in that time, she had managed to bag herself Borussia Dortmund’s star player as a boyfriend. Jadon Sancho was the rising star of the Bundesliga; he had speed, tricks, goals and most importantly to him, he had Grace.

The two had met a month after she had arrived in Dortmund, a normal night out ended up with the start of a blossoming friendship. That is all that Grace wanted, it was still only a few months since she had her heart broken by the person she trusted the most. But Jadon somehow managed to change the blondes mind, it was a shock to her as well. Now here she was seven months into the relationship and patiently preparing to attend her first Borussia Dortmund home game.

“Babe, are you ready to go?” Jadon called. He entered the bedroom and placed a soft kiss to the forehead of his nervous girlfriend. He had never questioned Grace about her past, she told him what she wanted and he was okay with that. He knew as time went on she would soon fully open-up to him.

“Is it too late to back out? I think I’m coming down with something” she lied. Grace knew Jadon wouldn’t believe her, but it was worth a shot.

“Please Gee, you haven’t been to one of my games yet and you promised!” Jadon pouted. “Just one game then I won’t pester you again, please?”

Grace rolled her eyes. Technically he was correct, she had promised him she would watch a game live but only one. The first step was promising him she would watch a game on TV, she managed to complete that one but she was sure that this one was going to be a lot tougher.

“Fine! One game and that is it. I know I promised you Jay but I’m being serious, I’m not happy doing this” Grace sighed. “I promised myself when I moved here I would leave football alone, you know how much pain it caused me.”

“I know and I totally understand but this time isn’t going to be the same. I promise you I won’t hurt you” Jadon softly smiled. He slowly placed both her small hands in his, gently grazing his thumbs over the top of them. “If you start to feel uncomfortable then you can always leave but you’ll have your family with you so there is nothing to worry about.”

Jadon was right. Grace was thankful that her parents and Emily had agreed to go with her. She had met Emily a few days after she had arrived into the country, she partially blames her for the reason she met Jadon. As she gazed lovingly into her boyfriend’s eyes she realised that this time it would be different, she had grown into a strong woman during the past few months.

“Okay let’s go, don’t want you to be late and we unfortunately miss the whole game!”

“Baby that was amazing, I’m so proud of you!” Grace squealed, she ran as fast as she could leaping into the arms of her sweaty boyfriend who spun her around at a rapid pace. “I think I definitely picked a good game to go to!”

The match had finished 5-0 to Borussia Dortmund, Jadon had scored two goals and got himself an assist. Grace managed to watch the whole game with a smile on her face, she didn’t realise how beautiful the stadium was. The fans spent the entire game singing, chanting and jumping up until the final whistle.

“See I told you it wouldn’t be that bad, I think you might be my lucky charm!” Jadon smirked. It was the best game of his career and it was made even more special that Grace could witness it. “I’m so happy you were there, I could see your cute smile in the stands! So, you coming to the next one?”

“Hang on superstar, baby steps!”

It had been five months since Grace had been to her first and last Borussia Dortmund game live. This wasn’t because she was scared but her own career had started to develop. She had finished her studies and was now working for an interior design company, a passion of hers from a very young age. She was working long hours which meant she had no time to attend the games nor pay attention to news of the club. But this didn’t bother Jadon, he was happy that she was doing something she enjoyed.

Grace finally had a weekend off, she hadn’t told Jadon this but she was going to surprise him at the home game the next day. She decided to treat him with a home cooked meal, she knew he would be exhausted from training. She felt bad that she hadn’t been paying attention to his football, every time they would try to communicate Grace would always be distracted by work, but she promised that this weekend belonged to Jadon.

“Hey, is that my beautiful girlfriend?” Jadon grinned. It was a lovely surprise seeing Grace during the day, he had gotten so used to welcoming her during the night-time. “What did I do to deserve this? It must be Christmas!”

“Oh wow, did you quit your job and become a comedian?” Grace laughed, a little shake of her head when she saw the big grin Jadon was wearing. “I thought because I’m home extremely early on a Friday we could have a movie day and I could cook you a meal?”

“That sounds perfect but I promised some of the guys from the team we could hang this afternoon, but I’m all yours this evening!” Jadon nervously smiled, he knew Grace must have put a lot of effort into organizing the day for them.

“Actually, that’s a better idea because I don’t know what I’m going to cook yet!” Grace giggled. She wanted it to be a special dinner so she needed to prepare, luckily, she knew Jadon would be distracted by his teammates. “Anybody interesting coming over?”

“Yes, Mats is coming over so you can put your tongue back into your mouth!” Jadon glared. He had completed his mission of getting Grace to attend a game, now he had to figure out how to get her to stop obsessing over Mr Mats Hummels. “Just the regulars, Mario, Marco, Roman and some new faces, if you behave I might introduce you to them!”

Grace was preoccupied looking at cooking recipes when the boys arrived. Her attention was soon turned to Jadon who called her over. “Everybody this is my girlfriend Grace, so you can stop with your jokes as you can clearly see she exists!” he laughed. Jadon was excited this moment was finally happening, he had to endure countless jokes about him having a fake girlfriend for weeks. His team mates didn’t think he could be dating someone as smart as Grace.

Grace started introducing herself to everybody, she had learnt so many new names she was sure she would forget them in a few hours. She focused her gaze on Jadon who was talking to a player she hadn’t met yet, he was a lot taller than Jadon with bright blonde hair. She started walking towards him when he began turning around, they were soon facing each other when their eyes met and that was when she realised who he was.

She had once loved gazing into the brilliant blue eyes she now found herself staring at. She had gotten so used to having him around that when he left nearly sixteen months ago, she was left heartbroken. Grace couldn’t believe how quickly he could leave her life, they were only young but they had created a wonderful life together. That day was forever in her mind, it was the main reason she had kept her guard up, she didn’t want to go through that again and here she was staring at the man that gave her that memory.

Grace didn’t realise how long she had been stood staring until she was distracted with Jadon’s hand waving at her. Her attention soon turned to her laughing boyfriend who gave her a small kiss on her cheek before turning around to the blonde-haired boy.

“Grace I’d like you to meet Mr Erling Haaland.”

“Hey Gracie, it’s been a while!”

a.n: i am back!! and i have a new story, it’s only a few parts but i am so excited to share it with you! enjoy x

#erling haaland #jadon sancho #fanfiction #fanfic #football #Borussia Dortmund #norway nt #england nt #Football Fanfiction #imagine #erling haaland imagine #jadon sancho imagine

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slaxl-rose · 4 years

Text

Heather (roger x reader)

summary: reader has developed sort of a love/hate sentiment towards Heather due to her being the apple of rogers eye. Reader wishes she actually "were Heather", as in more like her, so that roger would likewise be attracted to her. But in realizing that she can't be her, she also wishes something bad would transpire to remove Heather from the scene. So conclusively, we can say that reader is jealous of Heather since she possesses qualities which are causing roger to be "mesmerised" by her.

words: 2.1k

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing loudly next to my bed. I decide to just leave it there and let it ring until it stops but unfortunately my plans failed as the ringing somehow managed to get louder. Probably just too early in the morning. I groan loudly and pick it up "hello?" i answer, my voice full of sleep

"darling!" a loud echo shouts through the phone. It is too early for this. I recognised the voice right away and wiped my tired eyes with the heels of my hands "hi fred"

"aw my dear, did i wake you?" he asks with pity in his voice "yeah but i needed to get up soon anyway" i responded so that he doesn't at all feel bad. "any plans for the day, love?" he asks. I think about how i'll probably be sleeping or watching Netflix for about 90 percent of the day, so no. No plans.

"uh- no not really"

"perfect! you must come down to the studio my dear! we need more opinions on our newest song"

that honestly did sound like fun. I've loved all of the queen songs lately and i'd love to watch them play in the studio. I also remember that i haven't seen fred or the rest of the band in a couple weeks so this would be a nice catch up. "of course i'll be there!" i happily agree.

We bid our goodbyes and hang up the phone. With me promising to be there at 10:00

Soon enough, 10 am rolled around and i was making my way to the studio to see the boys and to listen to their newest song. The sound of that excited me. But what excited me more was the fact that roger would be there. To be honest, I've taken quite a liking to the blonde haired drummer. In my eyes he was smart, funny, talented and not to mention, absolutely gorgeous. The thought of seeing him again made my heart race.

I pushed open the studio doors when i heard a faint 'y/n' from behind me. I turned around quickly to see Mary jogging up to me with a girl I've never seen before by her side. A bright smile on her face as well as mine. "you sure do walk fast" Mary says as she catches up to me. I smile at her and look over to the girl beside her.

"y/n, this is my friend Heather" she then turns to her friend and introduces me to her. I politely smile at her and shake her hand. "hi!" she says cheerfully. She really was beautiful. She had wavy blonde hair that came down just past her shoulders, dark green eyes and was about 5'9. She looked like somebody you'd find on the vogue magazine cover.

"hey!" i say back just as happily. Not realising that soon she'd be the source of my sadness. We all continue to walk through the double doors and through the hall to the studio where the boys were recording. Mary walks in first, then Heather, then me. All four boys sit up once they spot us walk through the door. Freddie stands up to hug mary, and roger stands behind him. I was about to lift my hand and wave but i saw that he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at heather. Next, freddie makes his way over to me and brings me in to a tight embrace. "darling I've missed you so much!"

freddie was the only person to know about my feelings for roger. I didn't plan on telling him but one day he asked me because apparently 'i was staring at roger for so long it was just obvious!' So yeah he kinda picked up on that. Thankfully i trust freddie enough to know that he won't tell anybody. Once i pull away from freddie, i look over to see roger talking to heather. She laughs loudly at something he just said. Probably wasn't even funny, i scoff to myself and made my way over to brian and deaky to mutter a quick 'hello' and a smile.

2 hours later and the boy are still recording. Currently they are still in the booth. They promised by the end of the day we could listen to the full song. Every now and then they would take a quick break and roger would always sit on the couch next to heather. It made me extremely jealous.

only if you knew, how much i liked you, but i watch your eyes as she walks by

roger comes back out of the booth and sits on the empty seat next to heather, across from me and mary.

what a sight for sore eyes

i watch the way he wraps his arms around her shoulders

brighter than a blue sky

and the way she leans into his touch

shes got you mesmerised, while i die.

i sit up abruptly and excuse myself from the room. Not being able to watch them anymore. Roger hardly even acknowledged the fact that i was in the room. He only talked to me once to ask if i could 'pass his drumsticks, love'

i scoff and took a seat on the bench outside. Tears threatening to spill from my eyes. So much for having a good time. I just wanted to leave and not tell anyone i was going home but i know freddie wouldn't appreciate that very much. Speaking of freddie, i jumped as the outside door opened. please don't be heather, please don't be heather i chanted in my head. I didn't turn around until the person spoke up "love?" freddie says gently. He must of seen how quickly i left the room

i turned back around to face the front of me, looking down sadly. "yeah fred?" i replied with no emotion present in my voice "darling why don't you come back inside? it's freezing out here" freddie asks while sitting on the bench beside me. Ha, that's the last thing i'd want to do.

"nah, think i'll stay here" i say as i don't look away from the ground. I wasn't about to cry anymore, i was just numb. I heard freddie sigh from beside me

"i see the way you look at him love"

you finally look up "yeah, and do you see the way he looks at her" freddie frowns as i say that and i do too. "i'm sorry darling, i can talk to him if you'd like-"

"and say what? hey roger, y/n is in love with you but you're in love with another girl" i reply sharply with my voice full of sarcasm. Freddie falls silent and i start to feel bad. "i'm sorry fred, you're an amazing friend i shouldn't take my problems out on you. It's okay really, i'll just get over it" i say trying to sound genuinely ok but my voice just sounds broken. It's sad really. Freddie wraps an arm around me and pulls me into a tight hug while i cry quietly on his shoulder. 'It's ok darling, you're ok" he coos softly. We both know i'm not ok but freddie was just being a great friend. Looking out for me. What would i do without him?

About 10 minutes later, i tell fred that he needs to get back to recording and that i'll be in shortly after i fix my makeup in the bathroom. He suggests coming into the women's bathroom with me to comfort me because he, and i quote 'doesn't want me to be alone'. I chuckle at that and reassure him that i'll be just fine. He places a soft kiss on my cold cheek and makes his way into the studio again. I make my way down the hall and into the female bathrooms where of course heather is looking at herself in the mirror. I hold my self from rolling my eyes. It's not her fault that hes in love with her and not me i suppose. She smiles once she sees me but a concerned look crosses her delicate features. I guess my mascaras run a bit. I almost turn away when i see her wearing a jacket that i could of sworn roger was wearing earlier. I look up to her

"that rogers?" i say nodding my head towards the jacket. She looks down and that bright smile returns to her face once again

"oh! yes it is, he gave it to me, said that it was getting quite cold" she chuckles softly. I force a smile

you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester

i turn to the sink and begin to wipe my makeup. Not wanting to look at her any longer.

but you like her better

she looks at me frowning, "are you alright y/n?" i almost roll my eyes, does it look like i'm alright?

"mhmm"

she catches on to my cold tone and realises there's no point in talking. She excuses herself from the bathroom and leaves. I stand up straight and sigh as i look at the door she just walked through

i wish i were heather

~~~

3 hours later and my depressed attitude hasn't changed. Every now and then i hear giggles from behind me on the couch coming from roger and heather. I decided to move away from them so now i was sitting by the mixing desk next to deaky and freddie. I see heather stand up from the couch as she tells roger shes just going to get a quick drink

how could i hate her? she's such an angel, but then again kinda wish she were dead as she walks by

i turn back to the front so i was watching brian record his part for the song. It's better to distract myself i think. Soon i'll be able to go home and i won't have to put up with them being so close to each other.

what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky

Roger smiles brightly as she walks back into the room

shes got you mesmerised, while i die

finally i'm able to collect my bags and leave as the boys were finished recording. I bend down to pick up my bag as i hear roger and heather announce that they were about to leave. Together. I sigh shakily as i pull my bag onto my shoulder. don't cry, don't cry. I look up to see freddie looking at me with a pitiful look, i send one back. There's nothing i can do about it, i just have to accept it and move on.

but you like her better

I watch as they walk out of the room together, hand in hand.

i wish i were heather...

a/n- i hope this one wasn't too sad! and i hope you enjoyed!!!! also i didn't have time to proof-read this so i hope it's not too bad.

----------

lyrics for 'Heather'

by Conan Gray

I still remember third of December Me in your sweater, you said it looked better On me, than it did you, only if you knew How much I liked you, but I watch your eyes

As she walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerised While I die

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester But you like her better Wish I were Heather

Watch as she stands with her holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda wish she were dead

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerised While I die

Why would you...

#rogertaylor queen queenband freddiemercury brianmay johndeacon

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robbiekaysfavoritelostgirl · 5 years

Text

Robbie Christmas Prompt

Prompts: 13 “Your hands are freezing!” ,

41, “If you don’t go to sleep right now, Santa’s not coming.”

55, “You want to go to the mall now? ARE YOU CRAZY?”

68 winter proposal

and 75. “Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, love.”

Requested: Yes! And thank you for letting me know which prompt list you were talking about! Made this whole thing a lot easier lol

“Your hands are freezing!” I moaned as my four year old nephew placed my hands around my neck, giggling at the look on my face. “What happened to your mittens?” I demanded, pulling his hands away from my neck in order to inspect the pockets of his thick winter coat.

“Gone!” He cried, giggling as he leaned forward so his nose, which too was freezing, was pressed against my cheek. I groaned, shaking my head as he began to happily chant about having no mittens.

“Get inside you crazy kid.” I sighed, standing up and directing him off towards the living room. Moments later the sounds of “Blue Clues” reached me, followed quickly by his screaming out answers to every silly question that Steve asked. Knowing that I would not be needed anytime soon, I began to search the basket of mittens. I knew my nephew and knew that the moment Robbie arrived home, he was off visiting his sister and his own nephew, that he would drag Robbie outside to play in the snow and would need mittens. When I failed to any mittens there, I quickly searched the “Lion King” bag my brother had sent with Noah cursing when I failed to find any. Another quick search of the rest of my brothers overnight bags turned up no signs of mittens for Noah, which caused me to let out a loud groan.

“Great.” I huffed, running a hand over my face as I turned towards the living room. “Now I have to go to the damn mall on Christmas Eve.” I could, of course, call my brother and tell him that Noah needed mits but Carter was nervous enough as it was. Since April had left he was afraid of leaving Noah alone, for fear that the little boy would think he was being abandoned by both of his parents and calling him now would only panic him for no reason.

“Auntie can I have a cookie?” Noah screamed, his voice barely audible over the sounds of Blue Clues.

“Of course.” I answered, smiling as I headed off towards the kitchen. “I am made sugar cookies did you want to decorate them now or wait until Robbie gets here?”

“Now!” He screamed, turning the TV off as suddenly as he had turned it on and raced out of the living room, nearly crashing into my legs in process. “Do you have sprinkles?” He inquired, only “sprinkles” sound much more like “sprwinles” since he was still have difficulty with his “r”s

“Well of course I do, you can make sugar cookies without sprinkles!” I giggled, ruffling his hair as I followed him into the kitchen, his little feet padding against the ilumnu flooring.

We had just finished decorating the last cookie, or I should I just finished as he stopped half way through and decided eating the icing and cookies was the best option, when Robbie arrived.

“Love?” He screamed out, laughing as Noah let out a cry of pure joy and began racing off towards him, myself hot on his heels. I had turned the corner just in time to see Noah throw himself at Robbie, who was ready for the four year old and was kneeling down with his arms wide open.

“We just finished cookies!” I laughed, my smile growing as I watched the two of them.I loved watching them together and couldn’t help but picture what he would look like with our own child.

“Perfect! I could use a cookie!” Robbie laughed, untangling himself from Noah and heading towards me. He paused, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before allowing Noah to drag him off to the kitchen.

“When your finished your cookie could you maybe go to the mall with me? Little man needs mittens.” I asked, watching as he accepted a cookie, that was more icing and sprinkles than cookie since Noah made it, only to have him pause halfway to his mouth.

“You want to go to the mall now? ARE YOU CRAZY!” He demanded, staring at me as if I already was crazy and I may be just that. Going to the mall, which was the only large shopping center in our small town, on Christmas Eve was certainly a crazy idea. However it was the only one I had at the moment, despite forcing an overly excited three year old to stay inside while there was snow outside.

“He needs mittens.” I repeated, watching as Noah began to grow impatient with us both.

“Who said he can’t just wear a pair that is too big. It’s just for now right?” Robbie laughed, biting into the cookie Noah had prepared and instantly declaring it the best cookie he had ever tasted. “We will just tuck the sleeves of his coat into the mits with him and call it done. No need to go to the mall love, unless you really want to.”

“Do I want to go to the mall?” I inquired with a laugh. “Hell no, we will do it your way then. Besides it’s late out already we won’t be out there too long so it should be fine.” Knowing that I no longer had to face the overly crowded mall, I allowed myself to relax.

“Robbie outside!” Noah screamed, laughing happily when Robbie nodded.

“Let’s go get ready then lil man.” With that Noah was gone, nothing more than a brown haired little streak in a Batman onesie. “Are you going to come outside with us?”

“No you two men are going to need hot chocolate for when your done.”

“Are you going to make your famous homemade hot chocolate?” When I nodded, giggling at how excited he was.

“Yes and I will also get dinner started while I am at it. How does something simple sound, I’m thinking finger foods.”

“Sounds perfect to me my love.” He cooed, bending down to press a kiss against to my lips. “Whatever you make is good to me.”

Robbie and Noah had been playing out in the snow for over an hour, their laughter reaching me through the windows, when my brother arrived home, grunting as Noah no doubt threw himself at his father. Minutes later the three men in my life had made their way inside, all of them covered in snow and cold to the bone.

“Take your things off, dinner is ready. We having chinese.” I announced, laughing at the three overly excited cries of approval from the three men in my life. I barely had time to place the full plates out on the table when they were rushing towards it, sitting down and digging in. “Hot chocolate anyone?” It was a rhetorical question but I was answered with grunts nonetheless. I shook my head as I began to pour out the hot chocolate, pausing to kiss each man on my way by before finally settling down at the table beside Robbie and helping myself.

“When Santa coming?” Noah demanded between bites of food. Though it came out more as “When Santa woming.” While he could say all three words perfectly, it was growing late and he was getting sleepy, which meant that he was slurring his words. It wouldn’t be much longer until he passed out.

“Late tonight when you are asleep. Just like every Christmas.” Carson answered, smiling down at his son. “So that means after dinner and Rudolph it’s time for bed.” Watching Rudolph after dinner Christmas eve was a tradition my mother had started and Noah adored it.

“No bed.” Noah cried, the word bed waking him up enough to glare at his father.

“Whatever you say little man.” Carson laughed, ruffling Noah’s hair before he turned back to his meal. As dinner went on however, it became clear that Noah was not able to stay awake much longer, especially when he began to doze over his mug of hot chocolate. However when Carson picked him up for bed, he began to protest, sleepy little cries of no bed, ringing throughout the house.

“If you don’t go to be right now, Santa’s not coming!” Carson warned, Robbie and I stifling our laughter when Noah instantly fell silent.

“Why don’t you come for a walk with me.” Robbie suggested, chuckling softly at my raised brow. “Come on it won’t be to bad now, plus it will be beautiful.”

“I never said no, I just don’t understand why you suddenly want to go for a walk.”

“Sudden whims.” He chuckled, smiling as I pushed myself away from the table and headed out to the front hall.

“Your lucky I have mittens.” I chuckled, smiling at him as I began to get into hat and mitts. He followed my lead and in less than a minute we were out in the cold, the bitter December wind biting at our faces. “So where to?”

“Just around is all.” He replied with a shrug, reaching out to wrap my arm around his own. I hummed, taking a step closer to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. We walked in silence, each of us taking turns to pick a direction. We came to a stop when we reached the river. It was covered in ice and had the moonlight was reflecting of the lake. It was here that I met Robbie for the first time. I taken Noah down to swim in the lake two summers before and ran into him. We started talking and that was the end of it.

“Did you know when I first met you I didn’t think love was real. I honestly thought it was just a fairytale. All I had knew of love was that people got hurt. They took advantage of you and left you to mend your trust issues and heart. Then you came along and suddenly I could see why people put so much into it. I knew the moment that I saw you running around trying to collect frogs, while clearly terrified, that you were the type of person that would do anything for the people you love. I also knew then, when you turned to smile widely at me, that you were it. I didn’t even try to fight it you know. As stupid as it sounds you make that cheesy line from twilight real. You know the when where Edward is like, when you came into my life you were like the sun or whatever. You were my sun and it wasn’t until I saw your smile that I noticed I was living in the dark and that I never wanted to return to that. I need you in my life, you make me a better man. So will you please do me the honour of becoming my wife.” As he spoke he fell to one knee, pulling a simple ring from his pocket. Despite being a simple golden band with single diamond in the center, it was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.

“Oh Robbie, please get up it’s freezing and yes I will marry you.” I cried, laughing as he instantly jumped to his feet. Before pulling me into a kiss, he slipped the ring on my finger, both of us grinning when it was the perfect fit. As his lips touched mine, it felt like everything was falling to place.

“Merry Christmas love.” He whispered as he pulled away, grinning widely at me.

“Merry Christmas darling.” I answered, smiling again as I leaned in for another kiss.

#robbiekaysfavouritelostgirl #christmas imagines #24 days of christmas #robbie kay imagines #robbie kay

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stylesgalaxy · 5 years

Text

mastermind; chapter 13

"Deep breaths, Julia, deep breaths," I instruct. Julia is literally on the brink of throwing herself into a panic attack as she gets ready for the night. "You can do this."

"I can do this, I can do this, I can do this," she chants to herself, rearranging her already perfect curls. She beams in the mirror. "I got this."

"See, that's the spirit!" I encourage. Half a second later her face crumbles and shoulders drop.

"Aria, I can't do this!" she cries, throwing her face on my shoulder. I pat her back gently.

"You can do it. You have to. Harry needs you by his side."

Eventually I coax Julia out of her room. She wallows in anxiety right up until Harry texts her that he's here.

"Okay, listen," I say, quickly repeating what I've been telling her all night. "All you have to do is smile and nod. He'll ask you about your interests and hobbies—you just have to be honest!" Julia nods, hanging on to every word I say. "He might ask you about your father's business, but you already know everything about it!"

"I do," she agrees.

"All you have left to do is make sure Harry is doing okay. He be nervous so just be there for him. If he looks panicky just squeeze his hand under the table or something, he just needs the reassurance that someone else is here for him. And if you get the chance make sure you tell him he's doing great, okay?"

"Okay. Got it."

A knock sounds at our door. I open the door to see Harry standing there in a black suit with a white shirt. Instead of wearing a tie, he opted to unbutton his shirt until the butterfly tattoo on his stomach peaked out.

"H-hey," I croak, hoping he somehow didn't catch me checking him out.

A warm smile grows on his face. "Hey," he responds softly. Julia comes running behind me and nearly topples me over in her haste to get to Harry.

"Harry! You look so handsome," she says. I step back behind her, letting them speak. As I walk into the kitchen to busy myself, I hear Harry's response.

"Thank you, you look beautiful."

"Aw, thanks babe," she kisses him. "I'm so nervous I feel nauseous."

"Me too. We'll be okay though," Harry says tightly. He gulps and I catch his eyes glance at me nervously. You got this. I mouth, giving him a reassuring smile and he nods in return.

"Shall we?" Julia suggests. "Let me just grab my purse. Then we can leave and get this over and done with."

I settle in comfortably on the chair in the living room and kick back my legs with a bowl of warm popcorn in my lap. Flicking through the channels, I stop at the Food Network for a bit before continuing on until I find Friends re-runs. Half way through the episode and my phone buzzes already.

In the restaurant.

I read Julia's text message and I fail to see where this concerns me.

Ok. I reply back and put my phone down again to watch Rachel and Monica arguing. Another couple minutes pass by and I hear my phone ping again.

His father is here with his girlfriend she says.

*fiancé I correct.

What?

She is his fiancé not girlfriend.

oh fuck. Thanks for letting me know

I really hope Julia isn't so obvious being on her phone, because she's texting more than I expected. I didn't even expect her to be texting me, actually. And I have yet to hear anything from Harry.

talking about school now.

Harry told him he has a 4.0 gpa

asking how we met now

harrys talking to him about the boys now

Oh my God, Julia won't shut up.

Julia.

ya?

Talk to HIM not ME

ok ok

i'm nervous

he's asking me about my father's business now

I roll my eyes and sigh deeply.

Hey.

My heart jolts. Oh God, Harry was finally texting me. Was he okay?

Everything ok?

Julia keeps ignoring him?? I don't know what's wrong with her.

What? Before I can respond another message comes through.

he keeps asking me things

I type out a response, then quickly go back to fix it when she sends me yet another message.

aria he like won't stop with his questions i think he doesn't think im good enough for harry

julia he wouldn't think that, ur probably doing something to make him think that. Stop texting me.

aria what the hell? Ur supposed to be th

erefr me

Huh? I can clearly see her frustration, but the way her text got cut off had me wondering what happened.

oh my god ariaaaaa

harry just left me alone with his dad

what am i supposed—

I don't get a chance to read the rest before my phone starts ringing and Harry's goofy contact picture fills my screen. Extremely confused now, I slide to answer the call.

"Harry? What's happening?"

"Aria," Harry lets out a breath filled with frustration. "Holy shit." He's practically radiating stress.

"What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm in the men's room now. I had to leave because I-I couldn't sit there any longer. She's—Aria, she's not cooperating!"

"Who? Julia?"

"Yeah! She keeps checking her goddamn phone like it's more important!" Harry rages. "My father—he keeps trying to be nice and getting to know her but she looks at him like she's cringing horribly, gives him clipped answers and then goes on her phone! Like, I'm sorry, but it's kind of embarrassing! Him and Elizabeth are being so polite to her but she keeps looking around and shaking her leg and checking her phone and asking for more wine. She literally could not be making it anymore obvious that she doesn't want to be there," Harry ends in disappointment.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. I think she's just really nervous. It's me she's been texting—nervous texting," I explain.

"What is she texting you about?" he asks in confusion.

"She's just telling me what's going on and what your father is asking."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Harry," I answer honestly. "I think she's just nervous and its probably helping her to talk to me about it? Not that I've been much help..."

"I'm nervous... why can't she turn to me?"

"I've tried to tell her to do that... I guess she didn't listen?"

"No!" Harry exclaims. "She hasn't even looked at me once this entire dinner, until I got up to go to the men's room! The whole ride here it was 'Oh, is my outfit right for the occasion, is my hair tidy, what will I say, how should I sit?' And since we sat she's been huffing and texting and shutting down any sort of conversation either of them try to start with her!"

I bite my lip anxiously. "She's just nervous..." I repeat pathetically for the millionth time.

"No," Harry says defeated. "She's not 'just nervous'... she's selfish."

My heart drops.

"She's being self-centered, self-involved, self-absorbed... just any selfish word there is!"

"Harry—"

"This dinner means more to me than it ever could to her. Why can't she at least make the slightest effort to be there for me? I've turned to her when my father asked a difficult question, she just shrugs her shoulder!" I stay silent, truly not knowing what to say. "I had a feeling she would do this..." Harry says quieter. I move to the edge of my seat. "I-it's why I wanted you here... You wouldn't be selfish."

I can't help it, tears flood my eyes and race down my face. He wants me there... I know I can do better than Julia, but why the fuck is my situation the worst?!

Harry is silent. I get my shit together and take a deep breath, holding the phone away so he can't hear anything. Praying there's no strain in my voice, I say, "Don't say that, Harry... that's not fair..."

"I know, I'm sorry. I know she's anxious too... it's just if they situations were reversed... I would swallow my nervousness to make things easier for her. I wouldn't care about what I looked like to help her... She's not the same, I guess."

I didn't bother confessing to Harry that him saying all this is not fair to me.

"Harry," I speak firmly. "I don't know what to tell you about Julia, it's just that sometimes she's very detached from feelings, but... You can do this on your own too. It's sounds like your father is making an effort and so are you, that's what matters. One interaction with your girlfriend won't define your whole relationship with your father. There will be many dinners after that and then more and you'll fall back into how it was. Don't overstress yourself, this is just you getting to know your father and his fiancée, you're not signing a conract or something."

Harry sighs deeply and waits a few moments before saying, "You're right. Yeah... that's completely right..."

Relieved a little that this was going in the right direction now, I smile. "Okay, now why don't you go back and finish your dinner. I'll tell Julia to excuse herself and call her knock some sense into her."

Harry chuckles, "Thanks, Aria."

I hang up the phone with Harry to see a plethora of text messages from Julia.

aria harry just left me alone with his dad and fiancée.

oh my god

this is so. awkward

ariaaaa why aren't you responding what am I supposed to talk about??

i can't believe harry he KNOWS how nervous i am for this dinner and he just leaves me????

HE'S BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG WTF

I shake my head at her texts and quickly send one.

go to the bathroom, call me

I wait a few minutes, before my phone rings.

"Julia, what happened?" I ask.

"I don't know! His father was just asking me too many questions and—and Harry wasn't even helping! Aria, I don't like this, I don't want to be here," she whines.

"Julia, are you—" I groan in frustration. "It's not about what you want. Sometimes you have to think about Harry wants and needs."

"Well did he think about me?" she complains, heated. "He asked me to come to this dinner that I didn't want to, ignored me the whole ride here, and kept trying to get me to talk when he didn't want to. And then, he just abruptly gets up and goes to the bathroom for ten minutes, leaving me alone with two strangers—"

She continues venting while I press two fingers to my temple. I should have just fucking gone myself like Harry wanted. But nooo, I took the high road to be a good friend and now I'm forced to be a counsellor like this is fucking couple's therapy or something.

"Julia," I cut her off in the middle of her spiel. "Listen. I love you, I really do. You're my bestest friend. But you have a lot of things wrong here." I can hear her getting defensive but I continue before she can say more. "Harry did think about you. He knew you wouldn't want to do this but he had no choice. His father wanted to see you and Harry is really trying to mend their relationship. Not only that, but he needed you to be there for him. As hard as this is for you, I can assure you it's at least ten times worse for Harry. He keeps trying to engage you in conversation because he's looking for your support. He got up and left because you kept checking your phone and texting."

"Okay, but I was texting you! Does he know that? It was just you—"

"It's doesn't matter! It's rude to be on your phone while having dinner. Your own mother won't let you take your phone out while having dinner with her what made you think it was okay to do it so openly with Harry's family?!"

Julia grumbles in response.

"Listen, Jules. I'm always here to help you. But we're not teenagers anymore. You need to learn to be more considerate and start doing things for yourself. I'm not gonna be around to answer your texts in the middle of every dinner you have."

---

Julia comes home crying. I open the door and she stands there on the other side, tears streaming down her face and her shoulder's droop. For a split second my heart jumps at the thought that maybe Harry broke up with her, but I push that feeling down. It's not like it'll do me any good anyway.

I pull Julia in for a tight hug and close the door behind us.

"He w-was so m-mad," she sobs into my shoulder. "I've never seen him so mad be-before..."

"Harry?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah... he said I didn't c-care about h-him... That's not true! I do care about him! I love him."

I pat her back comfortingly. "I know... I know."

"What if he never wants to see me again?"

"Wait—did he break up with you?!" I pull back.

"Well, no he didn't say anything... but he looked so angry at me," she weeps, wiping her face.

"Did you, um, do any of the things I told you to do after we hung up?"

"No, what things?" she asks in confusion. I look at her in shock.

"The things I told you to do! Engage in their conversation, look to him to show support, squeeze his hand under the table or something, anything?!"

"Aria... I-I was too nervous, I didn't even think about those things!"

I huff in frustration and drop my head in my hands. It was so simple.

"Please don't be mad at me, too, please Aria, I'm sorry!" she begged.

"I'm not mad at you," I say evenly. "And it's not me you should apologize to. The fact that you couldn't remember to do those things after I told you to do them—when I shouldn't even have to tell you—just shows that you don't care about him as much as you think you do."

More tears poured down her face.

"What do I do?" she cried. "Should I go over to his?"

"No, he's probably upset and still angry right now. Wait until the morning."

"He hates me, doesn't he?"

"I don't think so. Harry's a very level-headed guy. I'm sure you two can talk things out and put this behind you. But you have to step up, Julia. Not everything is always about you."

---

Julia leaves early the next morning to get both her and Harry Starbucks. She tells me she's going to meet him before his class starts so she can apologize and try to explain herself. I wish her luck, not knowing how well this might go.

By Saturday, Julia and Harry have made up. He comes over to ours with take-out and we all kick back and relax, catching up. Neither of them mention the fight so I don't say anything either.

Harry and I meet up at art history again the next week and head straight to our café after the class is done. When we talk, nothing about our personal lives is mentioned. We don't talk about Julia or Zayn or Louis or Niall. Sometimes we talk about our families, but most of the time we're too busy finding things in common. We share a lot of similar beliefs, but a few times we found we had totally different opinions on something. We would roast each other for a good twenty minutes until we were dying of laughter and then agree to disagree.

I whine about not wanting to go to my lecture after and complain about Harry being able to just go home. Harry gives me a good pep talk to make me go to class (he's a really good student, probably why his GPA is so high) but I spend the entire lecture texting him about the correct way to cook eggs. He likes his eggs soft—which is wrong—and I inform him of that. Eggs should be cooked thoroughly. He counters this with "then it's too rubbery" and so we debate.

For the rest of that week and weekend, I work on Harry's birthday gift, pretty excited about this one.

Then on Tuesday, he comes over in the afternoon.

"Harry?" I question, opening the door wider for him to enter. "What are you doing here? Julia is still in class."

"Oh, I know," he says casually. "I actually came to see you. I thought we could study for our quiz tomorrow."

He takes off his boots and hangs his jacket, dropping his backpack on the small table.

"Study for our what now?" I ask dumbfounded.

"Quiz? We have a quiz tomorrow for art history..." he chuckles at my expression.

"Oh, shit. I didn't even know that."

"I can tell."

"Well, you get comfortable, I'll go get my laptop and stuff."

When I return, Harry already has water heating for some tea. We go over our notes, testing each other and laughing quite a lot. An hour in, I get hungry and complain that I don't want to study anymore (if you couldn't tell, I'm not the best at studying). Harry rolls his eyes and opens our fridge. We don't have any real food, just ham and cheese and fresh mint.

"What about bread?" Harry questions, looking through the cupboards.

"Think we're out," I mumble, picking at my cuticles.

"Do you have crackers at least?"

"No."

"There's a box of cereal here, do you want that?"

I roll my eyes. "We have no milk."

"Oh right."

Harry pours some cereal in a bowl anyway and we eat it dry. It's not enough to satisfy my hunger but it's enough for me to focus a bit more on studying. Harry quickly learns that I despise studying and memorizing things, so he tries different tactics.

He tries putting pieces of cereal on the textbook where I have to read a page. To eat the cereal, I have to read that paragraph first. This doesn't work because at the end when both Harry and I finish, he summarizes what he read but I can only tell him how many rainbow lucky charms I ate.

He shakes his head while I bite back a grin. Harry pulls out his Q-cards next that he already had prepared and we play a game where I have to define words or summarize an artist or a piece that is written on the card, while Harry looks at the answer on the back. He sets a timer for me saying I have only one minute to give the answer, and when we get through the whole deck we go again but I only have thirty seconds this time. This method actually works because I'm so competitive, I can't stand not winning.

Harry grins in satisfaction when we get through all the cards.

"Harry, I'm hungry," I whine. I want to do literally anything else except studying.

"Okay, how about we go out to grab a bite. Or should we order pizza?"

"Let's go out to get pizza."

"You don't want to order in?"

"I want to get away from these books."

Harry laughs and nods in understanding, "That's fair. Okay." I clap and stand but he pulls me back down to my chair. "After, we go over Early-Medieval and Romanesque art."

I groan loudly and flop back in my seat while Harry laughs at my misery.

We're going over the key elements in Gothic architecture when the door unlocks.

"—and the buildings are very tall," I say animatedly. "Tall enough for me to throw myself off of to end this study session."

Harry clutches his stomach in laughter at my on-going nonsense when Julia walks in.

"Oh, hey," she says surprised. "Didn't you know you were coming over."

"Oh, yeah, I came to study with Aria," Harry replies, still smiling wide and wiping at the tears in his eyes. Julia looks between us.

"Studying? What are you guys studying for?" she asks politely.

"Art history," I tell her.

"You're in art history?" she asks Harry, astounded.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you? Aria's in the lecture with me."

"No... since when have you been into art history?" she laughs awkwardly. I bite my lip. I can sense her getting a little hostile.

"Um, I think since I started hanging out with Aria, to be honest," he grins after thinking for a moment. Harry sends me an innocent smile and I reciprocate with a tight one. He doesn't know the storm that's brewing right now.

"I didn't even know you two had a class together, much less that you were hanging out," Julia says as she sets her purse down in the living room.

"Well, I'm hungry," I say abruptly just as Harry opens his mouth, probably to tell her more about how much we hang out. That was not a discussion we needed to have right now, when Julia was starting to get pissed.

"I'm going to get pizza, is everyone okay with pizza?" I ask, quickly slipping my boots on and wrapping my scarf around my neck.

"Wait, I thought we were going together," Harry frowns, also standing. I look from him to Julia to see her lips are pressed together tightly. I don't want to further upset Julia by hogging her boyfriend, but I also don't want to hurt Harry's feelings.

"We are," I say to him. "Jules, you're coming too right?"

"Of course," she says quickly.

---

Harry carries our pizza boxes and I carry the cheesy bread, while Julia walks with her arm slipped through Harry's.

"And that right there," I say pointing to a trash can, "is perfect representation of Gothic architecture."

Harry bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. His loud cackle makes me laugh too while Julia looks between us, missing the joke.

"It's not, it's really not... Gothic architecture is actually nice," I mumble quietly. Having to explain it made it not so funny, but one look at Harry had me snorting.

We get back home and Harry and I take our seats at the small table. I push some of our books aside to make room for Julia so she can join us and not feel left out. But she does feel left out when we start talking about art history. Julia silently grabs her things and goes to sit on the couch, flicking the TV on.

"Babe, you okay?" Harry asks in concern.

"Yeah, it's pointless for me to sit at that table while you guys are studying... I'll just watch some TV."

Harry and I go back to studying. Since I can't focus to save my life, Harry is once again trying to make this fun for me. It's effortless to have fun with Harry. Our conversation flows naturally and everyday we get more comfortable around each other.

"You guys don't sound like you're studying," Julia says, staring straight ahead at the TV.

"Huh?" I turn back, smiling at her.

"Nothing."

A few minutes later Julia starts grumbling again.

"Jules, are you okay?" Harry asks kindly.

"It's just you guys are being so loud! Talking and laughing, I don't know how you're 'studying'!" she exclaims.

We stare at her with wide eyes, not expecting this type of reaction.

"Oh, um, sorry," I apologize.

"Yeah, we didn't realize we were being so loud," Harry adds. "Here, how about we move to Aria's room."

"No!" Julia says quickly. We look at her in confusion again. I mean, mostly Harry does. I can sort of understand how Julia is feeling. "It's fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice I'm just kind of tired..."

"Why don't you go to bed?" Harry says softly. Julia ponders it, then nods, heading to her room after saying goodnight.

I look down at my notes and wonder if Harry will say anything. It's obvious she was a little jealous... was he going to acknowledge it?

"Well, I think we've studied enough, don't you?" Harry says.

"Oh, yeah. And it's just a quiz, we studied as if it was a midterm," I chuckle.

"It will all pay off when you ace that quiz," he grins, packing his things up. He gets everything he needs then throws his backpack over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow then, I guess."

I nod and shut the door after him before packing my own things and heading to bed.

---

It's technically Friday night, but I'm sure it's Saturday somewhere so here's the next update! I couldn't wait to update omg and I'm even more excited for the next chapter, it's one of my favourites! :))))

Things are finally starting to progress, how do you guys think it will all come together? Please let me know what you thought!

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#mastermind

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years

Text

Archie//Love is a Mystery

Request: Would you write a Reader/Archie, you’re friends with a crush on him, you meet up at a party neither of you realizing it’s the other, have a one night stand (smut maybe? if you write it?) Later Archie whines about “the one that got away” you decide to help him if he helps you find your “mystery man” from the party, both of you realising throughout explaining that it's each other

i decided that it worked better without smut so i didn’t write any. i’m sorry! but i hope you still like it!!!

“Y/n!” Archie shouted down the corridor and you craned your neck to see over the mass of students trying to rush home.

“What?!” You replied, finally making eye contact with him. He sent you a cheeky smile that made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks heat up. Thank God you were far away from him.

“You coming to Cheryl’s party tonight?”

“Andrews. In the entire time that you’ve known me, when have I ever missed a party?”

“True.” He laughed. “You’re the best when you’re drunk.”

“I’m the best all the time.” You replied and he laughed louder.

“Thats even more true.” He nodded and you smiled brightly at him. “I’ll meet you there okay? About 8. Don’t drink until I get there!”

“I won’t! As long as you don’t if you get there first!”

“I won’t either! I promise!”

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

“Y/n! You made it.” Archie slurred, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t drink until I got here.” You raised an eyebrow and he giggled.

“Did I say that?”

“Yes.” You nodded as you walked further into the party.

“Oh!” He shouted. “Yeah, I did! Thats why I had the geni-geuni-genius idea of getting you a drink every time I did! Here you go.” He handed you a large glass with a gross looking liquid in.

“Archie?”

“Yeahhhh.” He hiccuped.

“This is only one drink.”

“Soooo.”

“I assume you’ve had more than one.” You looked him up and down.

“Oh. Thats were the genius comes in. You see I thought it would be easier and quicker if I mixed all the drinks together.”

“Right.” You nodded and looked at the glass in your hand. “So what exactly is in this?”

“Beer, some vodka, I think there’s a few tequila shots, and more beer. And fruit juice so its that pretty colour!”

“You really are wasted aren’t you.” You asked.

“No!” He defended.

“Archie?”

“What?”

“You’re talking to a wall.”

“Oh.” He turned around and faced you. You laughed at the cute smile he was sending you. “I’m not wasted! Just drunk! Now drink up!”

“I don’t want to drink this. It looks disgusting.” You shook your head and he gasped.

“How dare you! I put so much hard work into that!”

“Sorr-”

“Drink it.” He interrupted and you rolled your eyes. “Drink it. Drink it. Drink it.” He chanted loudly. A few other people around you started to join in and you rolled your eyes. “For me?” He asked, a hopeful look on his face.

“Fine.” You agreed and he cheered. You rolled your eyes at him before downing the drink. You remember thinking that you would do anything for that boy, and that is the last thing you remember until Saturday Afternoon when you woke up in one of Cheryl’s bedroom’s, naked.

The light coming in from the window blinded you and you groaned looking around, trying to piece what happened together. Your phone was no where to be seen and your clothes were scattered around the room. Slowly you collected them and started to get dressed. However you couldn’t for the life of you find your shirt, so you just put your jacket on and zipped it up. After searching the room you finally located your phone, beside it lay a used condom and your eyes widened.

“Well. At least I was safe.” You muttered. You checked the room to see if you’d forgotten anything when you noticed a note on the desk.

last night was great!

here’s my number if you wanna do it again some time.

p x

“P?” You asked no one.”Who’s P?” You squinted slightly, trying to make out the number, however whoever wrote it must have been as drunk as you were so the hand writing was sloppy. Sighing, you shoved it into your pocket and left the room.

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

Monday morning rolled around far too soon and you were still a little hungover. However you were excited to hear the stories of what happened and you were hoping your friends would be able to help you figure out what happened. You still hadn’t been able to remember much, apart from that you definitely slept with someone, and at some point you vomited in a plant pot.

“Hey Archie.” You mumbled, sitting opposite him at the lunch table. You were wearing your pajamas, like the majority of students that went to Cheryl’s party, and you had sunglasses hiding your eyes.

“Hey Y/n.” He whispered, putting his head back on the table. He looked just as awful as you did.

“Are you still hungover?”

“No.”

“Why do you look like you’ve been murdered, buried, dug back up and then brought back to life.”

“You always know how to boost my confidence Y/n. What would I do without you?”

“I dunno. You’re life would be much duller if I wasn’t in it though.” You shrugged and he laughed a little before groaning.

“If you must know, yes I’m still hungover, but thats not why I’m like this.” He sighed.

“Whats wrong?” You asked curiously, taking a sip from your water. You couldn’t face food yet, not even two days after the party.

“I met a girl at the party.” He told you, his face lighting up at the thought of her, and your heart sank. You felt even more sick than you already did, however you pushed it aside, and focused your attention back on him.

“Okay? Shouldn’t you be happy? Or was she not very good in bed?” You asked slightly hopefully.

“No. She was great. Amazing!”

“So you met a wonderful girl and had amazing sex with her. Why do you look so depressed?”

“Because I wanna find her and I don’t even know her name.” He sighed.

“The one that got away huh?”

“Yes! She’s the one that got away!” He said loudly and you both groaned at the volume.

“I know how that feels.” You shrugged.

“What happened to you?”

“I met a boy at the weekend.”

“Oh.” He replied, the tone of his voice confused you, he seemed almost disappointed, and the look on his face backed that up.

“He was amazing, kind, sweet and very hot...well what I could remember of him. And now I can’t even remember his name.” You looked at the table, and played with your hands.

“I have an idea!” He said loudly again and you glared at him. “Sorry.” He muttered.

“Here we go.” You said sarcastically and he rolled his eyes.

“If you help me find my mystery woman, I’ll help you find your mystery man.” You thought about it for a moment. Did you really want to help the boy you were crushing on find his perfect woman? However, if the boy that you met was as amazing as you sort of remember, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt to find him. You wouldn’t have slept with him if you didn’t think there was something there.

“I’m in.” You nodded and he smiled brightly at you.

“Great! We can start on Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?” You asked confused.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be over my hangover until then and it hurts my brain to just breathe, let alone think.” He explained.

“Ah.” You nodded your head. “I think thats a great idea.” You agreed.

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

Wednesday after school, Archie made the short walk to your house. And by short walk he literally just walked next door. Sometimes it was really helpful that you two were neighbors.

Once you were sure you were both over your hangovers you decided that the best place to start would be to brainstorm what you could remember.

“I remember walking into the party.” You thought and lay on your bed. Archie lay beside you, your heads touching slightly. “You rambled about how you had such a brilliant idea of mixing all of my drinks together. Thanks for that by the way.”

“What are friends for.” He shrugged and you giggled. He felt a blush start to appear on his cheeks and he was thankful that you were looking at the ceiling.

“I remember drinking your ‘invention’ and then I don’t remember much else after that. Apart from that I slept with someone and I puked in a house plant.”

“Oh! I remember that! It was really funny. You were talking to it and then you said ‘hold on’ and threw up in it.” He laughed loudly and your rolled your eyes. “After that you apologized to it and continued talking.”

“Shut up.” You elbowed him. “What do you remember?”

“Not much more than you.” He sighed. “I talked to a few people before you turned up. I gave you your drink and then I made one for myself for some reason.” He shook his head at the thought. “I also remember you talking to the house plant and throwing up.” He paused for a minute and you turned your head to look at him. “Wait! I remember something else!” He sat up and you followed. “After you puked and finished your conversation with the plant.” He giggled and you rolled your eyes. “You were talking to some boy.”

“Boy? What boy? Did I know him?” You asked.

“I dunno. I think you knew him but I can’t really remember. After that it kind of goes a bit blank. I think I drank some vodka after I saw you talking to him.”

“Damn.” You sighed.

“Sorry.” He apologized.

“Its not your fault.” You shrugged.

“Anyway. I also vaguely remember having sex but then thats it. I don’t even remember getting home.” He laughed softly and you smiled.

“Well that was useless.” You lay back down.

“Yeah.” Archie agreed and lay beside you again.

“We could always ask some people at the party?” You suggested.

“I think the majority of them were just as drunk as we were, if not drunker.” He replied.

“True.” You sighed. “So what are we gonna do?”

“Did he leave anything? Like a number or a piece of clothing or something?”

“Actually.” You sat up. “He left me a note.”

“Great!” Archie sat up and looked at you. You stood up and searched through your washing basket until your found the jeans you were wearing. Pulling the note out you sat beside Archie again and handed it to him.

“P?” He asked. “Who’s P?”

“Thats what I thought.”

“Who do we know, who has a P in their name?” He asked. You both thought for a couple of seconds before looking at each other, wide eyed.

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

“Sweet Pea?” You asked anxiously as you approached him. Archie was beside you, looking around the bar nervously. “Sweet Pea.” You said a bit louder gaining his attention. He passed the pool cue that he was holding to Fangs and walked towards you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, glaring at Archie. Even though the rivalry between the North and the Southside had died down, there were still a few tensions between people. Especially Archie and Sweet Pea, however you didn’t expect much more after Archie had waved a gun in Sweet Pea’s face. Archie was told how stupid he was after he did that.

“I came to ask you a question.” You replied, trying to defuse the situation.

“About?”

“Cheryl’s party.”

“The one on Friday.” Archie added.

“I assume you went, seeing as though your Toni’s friend.”

“Yeah, I went.” He shrugged. “What do you wanna know?”

“Well, I err. I kinda slept with someone.” You mumbled and he raised an eyebrow. “But I can’t remember who it was. But whoever it was left this note.” You passed him the note and he read it, an amused expression appearing on his face. “And-”

“And you were wondering if it was me you slept with because they signed it P?” He finished your sentence for you and you nodded. “It wasn’t me you slept with.” He added and you let out a sigh of relief. “But would it really be that bad if you did?” He winked at you and Archie stepped between the two of you. “Calm down Red. If I was gonna sleep with her I’d make sure it was good enough that she’d remember.” He rolled his eyes and made his way back to the pool table.

“Well that was useless.” You sighed and began to walk about.

“Yeah.” Archie agreed and followed you.

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

“Kevin. You know literally everything about everyone. Do you remember who we slept with?” You asked as you walked down the hallway with him.

“Nope. I remember you going upstairs with someone, but when I saw you, you were both alone.”

“Well that wasn’t helpful.” Archie muttered and you laughed.

“Actually. It kind of is.” He replied. “That means that whoever you slept with, you met while upstairs.” He explained.

“Kevin!” You squealed.

“You’re a genius.” Archie added.

“I could kiss you!” You smiled brightly at him.

“Please don’t.” He shook his head. “Either of you.” He looked at Archie and you laughed.

“Why don’t you talk to Cheryl. She might know more.” He shrugged before walking away.

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“Hey Toni.” You smiled at the pink haired girl when she opened the door. “Is Cheryl in?” You asked and she nodded at the two of you.

“We were wondering how long it would take the new Betty and Jughead to turn up.” She replied and moved out the way so you could come in.

“Betty and Jughead?” Archie mumbled.

“Because you’re investigating.” Cheryl rolled her eyes and you turned to face her. “However I didn’t think anybody could be any worse at it that Nancy Drew and Sherlock, but here you are.”

“Babe.” Toni warned. “Be nice.”

“Of course TT. How can we help you?”

“We were wondering if you knew who we slept with.”

“Haven’t a clue.” She replied. “Is that it?”

“I suppose.” You sighed.

“I think I might know something.” Toni interjected.

“What?” You and Archie asked hopefully.

“Well, I saw you talking to a plant.” She faced you. “And then you vomited on it.”

“You did what?” Cheryl asked annoyed.

“Not my point babe.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “After you vomited, you started to talk to some random boy, it seemed that you two were getting along well if you get what I mean. Then Archie stole some vodka from Reggie. A few minutes later, you disappeared off upstairs. I turned around to talk to Sweet Pea, and then Fangs shouted for me so I turned back and I saw Archie going upstairs.” She explained and you and Archie looked at each other confused. “Thats all I know.” She shrugged.

“Huh.” You thought.

“Well. It was nice seeing you. Toodles.” Cheryl ushered you out the door.

“What do we do now?” Archie asked after the door had slammed behind you.

“Who knows?” You shrugged.

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“I think I just need to forget about him.” You sighed and lay down on Archie’s bed. “It’s been two weeks and no sign of him.”

“Its okay.” He replied and lay next to you. You rest your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Why don’t we focus on yours. The girl that got away.” You changed the subject and he sighed. “Did she leave anything?”

“I dunno?” He shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“Hmmm.”

“Maybe its just best they stay as the one’s that got awa-”

“Archie. Shut up.” You shushed him and he looked at you annoyed. You sat up and walked towards his washing basket. “When was the last time you did your laundry?”

“I dunno. Like two and a bit weeks ago.” He shrugged.

“Thats gross.” You glanced behind you and he sat up.

“Why?”

“Because thats my shirt.” You replied and he stood up, quickly crossing the room to stand behind you.

“What?”

“This is my shirt. Its the one I wore to the party.” You looked at him. “Hold on.” You told him and pulled your phone out of your pocket. “On Saturday night when I could bare to look at my phone I went through it and apparently I take a lot of pictures when I’m drunk.” You explained and he looked over your shoulder. “See. There I am, wearing that exact shirt.” You zoomed in on a picture of a very drunk you with Reggie.

“It can’t be.” He shook his head. “I ended up bringing that home with me accidentally. I don’t really know how, but it was in with my stuff.” He panicked.

“I couldn’t find my shirt when I woke up.” You told him.

“Did we?” He asked.

“I think we did.” You replied. Both of you looked around the room, avoiding all eye contact with each other.

“Hold on.” Archie told you.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, still panicking on the inside. Holy fucking shit. You slept with Archie Andrews! Like you actually slept with him.

Archie was having the exact same reaction as he text Reggie. He’d slept with his best friend that he’d been in love with for the past 4 years.

‘did me and y/n sleep together?’ his finger hovered over the send button and he took a deep breath before sending it. Within a few seconds he received the reply.

‘yeah. do you really not remember? i walked in on it. twice.’

“We slept together.” Archie nodded and you gulped.

“Cool, cool, cool.” You rambled quickly. “Sooooo.”

“What do we do now?” He asked.

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Was it good?” He mumbled.

“From what I can remember, yeah.” You nodded, a smile appearing on your face. “Was I good?”

“I think.” He nodded and you looked at the floor. “Yeah. You were. From the things I can remember, you were great.” He smirked.

“Cool, cool, cool.” You rambled again and he laughed.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“What?” You asked surprised and looked at him.

“I dunno why I said that.” He shook his head.

“Do you not think I’m cute?” You asked quietly.

“I think you’re the cutest girl in the world.” He replied quickly. “I’m really glad I slept with you.” He whispered.

“I’m glad I slept with you too.” You replied and he looked at you.

“Really?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Even if I don’t remember much of it.” You joked and he laughed.

“Would you maybe wanna do it again?” He asked and you nodded. “Me too.” He smiled at you and placed a hand on your cheek gently. You tilted your head and he leaned in to kiss you, closing the gap between the two of you. He tilted your head further, deepening the kiss and his hand squeezed your hip. Pulling away he looked at you concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He asked.

“No.” You shook your head. “I’m just shocked that this is actually happening. I’ve liked you since I was like 14.”

“No way.” He shook his head.

“What?”

“I’ve liked you since I was 13.” He smiled brightly at you. You wasted no time in kissing him again and he walked you backwards towards his bed. Your legs hit the mattress and you fell against it, he crawled up your body and started to kiss you again.

“Are we actually gonna do this again?” You pulled away and giggled.

“I can’t believe we’re actually gonna remember it this time.” He replied and you both laughed before connecting your lips again.

#archie #archie imagine #archie x reader #archie x you #archie andrews #archie andrews imagine #archie andrews x reader #archie andrews x you #riverdale #riverdale imagine #kj apa

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miraculous-catdragon · 5 years

Text

The time has come!

I finally finished the something special for my 100 followers! 😉😉

I’m really glad I got it done before Friday, I had a goal to get it done before Friday afternoon. And I did it! I hope you all enjoy! I think what I wrote is really cute! I might put it on my Ao3 😜 It’s a little short, but it’s short and sweet!

Thanks again for 100 followers! You guys are amazing and I love you so much! Please enjoy this little fic I wrote with love ☺️

One hour, one whole hour until Adrien comes back from work. My palms were sweaty, my hands couldn’t stop shaking. I tried taking my mind off what was going to happen in an hour.

“Marinette. You’re pacing.” A small voice echoed from couch. I couldn’t help but groan.

“I know Tikki, I just want this surprise to be perfect. I’m just trying to think of other stuff I could do.” I rubbed my face, my legs carried me into a pace again.

“It WILL be perfect.” The spotted kwami assures, flying in front of me to stop me mid pace. “I guarantee he’ll be thrilled.”

What if Adrien comes home and is angry with me for surprising him or he doesn’t think anything of it? I thought.

“Maybe I shouldn’t surprise him. I should just tell him.” I thought to myself. Shaking my head, I turn to go into the kitchen when my kwami stops me again.

“Marinette, you’re overthinking again, nothing is wrong with a wife surprising her husband when he gets home from work. I think what you have for Adrien is really cute.” Tikki had a point, I sighed.

Adrien and I have been married for 4 years now. Not once he’s hated any of the surprises I’ve given him. It’s felt like an eternity since we met, fought crime together.

Even after so many years of being together, it feels like this is all a dream, I could wake up at any moment and be sitting at my desk sitting next to Alya in class.

“Maybe I should make dinner for him, it should be done by the time he would get home.”

“What a great idea Marinette! Food definitely doesn’t hurt and it might get your mind off it.” Tikki smiled brightly and nods.

Adrien is not a picky eater, he’ll honestly eat anything. I’m thinking of pasta, so I started with a garlic sauce with cheese and chicken. I added water in a pot for the pasta and waited for it to boil.

I felt so nervous, I don’t know why. Adrien is an amazing guy, someone that people admire. He cares for so many people, even if they don’t deserve it. While we don’t do much hero work anymore, because we took down hawkmoth years ago, he still makes an amazing hero.

My hands shook, making sauce spray onto my shirt. Ah, dammit. I turn off the stove and go to change my shirt.

My heart pounded in my chest as I went back into the kitchen to work on dinner once again. Getting lost in thought once again.

It gave us a serious shock finding out Adrien’s own father was the villain, it broke his heart. After so many years of manipulating innocent people Gabriel was sent to jail.

I straightened my back and huffed, it’s been years now and we’re both better, we’re happy. We’ve been together for so long it feels like I’ve been with him my whole life. Without Gabriel in his life he’s been better, he even seems happier. Before his dad went to jail he had so many expectations on his shoulders, what to wear, what to eat or when to sleep. Even who to marry, I personally don’t believe Gabriel was genuinely happy Adrien and I got married. He probably would’ve been happy if Adrien married a rich model or even Chloe Bourgeois!

I looked in the oven to make sure everything was ready, glancing at the clock my heart pounded. He’ll be here in a few minutes.

I got a couple plates and started setting the table.

I glanced out the window to see a couple walking down the sidewalk with their kids hand in hand. I smiled, they looked so happy.

After being married for years, we’ve talked about having kids of our own.

Since I was a kid I’ve always wanted to be a mother, and to have kids of my own to love and spoil. My parents were amazing as I grew up and I admire them. I want to be parents like them.

Adrien was a little anxious when talking about having kids. He didn’t know how to be a good dad, his dad wasn’t exactly dad of the year and didn’t want to treat his kids like his father did him.

I shook my head, clearing my head and headed into the kitchen to finish dinner. The sauce has had enough time to thicken and I should probably add the noodles.

“Marinette! I’m home!” A sweet voice called from the other room.

The tall giraffe I call husband walks in, giving my cheek a slobbery kiss. I groaned following a giggle wiping the spit off my face.

“Gross!” I laughed wiping the excess spit onto his shirt. He chuckled, leaning over the pan breathing in the delicious smell.

“Mmm that smells amazing.” He hummed happily, he gave me one more kiss on the cheek, a less wet one.

“How was work sweetie?” I asked him, continuously working on the noodles even though they were done.

He walked into our bedroom, putting his shoes and bag away. He huffed back into the kitchen putting his arms around my waist with a fake pout.

“The students were little rats today.” He complained, I caught his smile in the corner of my eye.

“Oh yea? So college is not always fun I suppose.” I joked, stirring the pasta into the sauce. The breath from his laugh tickled the back of my neck.

“Well, it certainly is not as exciting than when we went.” He rested his head on my shoulder. I looked at him to find him smiling, his blonde hair in his eyes. I chuckled, shaking my head at him, I knew he was talking about being a superhero and saving Paris. Nothing could be more entertaining than that. Now that he was a college professor, he understood what his teacher felt like when his students started getting rowdy. Though, our teacher had to deal with us leaving for every akuma attack.

I looked back over my shoulder to look at him and found him staring at me. His beautiful green eyes were one of my favorite things about Adrien, and one day I hope one of our kids would share the same eyes.

I cleared my throat remembering what I was supposed to do when he got home. “Oh! Adrien could you get something out of the oven for me? Please?”

I heard him playfully groan as I turned off the stove and headed for the bedroom to get something.

“Sure.” He grabbed a heat pad from the kitchen drawer, I went into the bedroom grabbing a picture from my bedside table. I rushed back into the kitchen to find a confused blonde. He stood facing the oven, and when hearing me come in he turned slowly to me with a single small bun in his hand.

“My lady, there was only this bun in the oven?” He questioned, I bit my lip from anxiety and excitement. His face blanked, his brain processing this sudden information.

My heart was in my throat, my hands holding the picture behind my back.

Adrien and I have been trying to have kids for a while now.

I raise the picture I held behind my back to show my husband. His eyes lit up when setting eyes on the picture. It was an ultrasound picture of our unborn child.

Finally, we can have one of our own.

Wait...” he paused, not knowing what to do. “Wait really?”

His eyes sparkled in excitement, he squealed jumping up in the air, “Really???”

I nodded with a shy smile. “I’m pregnant, Chaton.”

He grabbed me excitedly, little too hard but I didn’t blame him, he was excited. I laughed as he hugged me and spun me around in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna be a daddy, I’m gonna be a daddy!” He chanted, his face is red from smiling.

“I told he’d be excited!” Tikki cheered, flying in between hugging both of us.

“A little too excited...” Plagg grumbled, crawling from Adrien’s pocket.

“Come on Plagg you know you’re excited for the baby as much as I am.” Tikki teased with her hands on her hips. Plagg only groaned blushing slightly.

Adrien laughed, shaking his head at the kwami. He raised his head to look at me, the smile on his lips shot electricity down my spine.

“I’m really excited Marinette! I really am, I’m just a little nervous to become a dad.” His head lowered looking at his feet, I know his fears of becoming his dad crawl up his back but he’s nothing like Gabriel. He reminds me of someone who would be a dad like... well .. like my dad. Someone funny, caring, protective, playful and loves quality time. I grab his face with my hands and looked him in the eyes.

“I can’t wait to be a mom, and spoil our kids rotten with love. But I’m also afraid of not raising our kids right, and of doing something wrong. I know we can do anything together. We can raise our baby together, and we can figure it out, together. Like we always have.” I press a soft kiss on his lips, he sets a warm hand on my cheek. We pulled away and I looked into his green warm eyes with my blue ones.

“How long have you known?” He sets his free hand onto my belly softly. I looked off to the side towards Tikki who beamed at me.

“About a week. Tikki confirmed it after I hadn’t started my period this month.” Adrien’s focus landed on my red Kwami.

“I am the goddess of luck and creation, it’s kind of my thing to know when your wife is creating something inside her.” She giggled, landing on my shoulder.

“I went to the doctor with Maman this morning while you were at work. They did an ultrasound and I got this picture.” I handed him the picture of our baby. I pointed to where the head was, and described the heartbeat I heard during the appointment. His face lit up and started bouncing up and down like a kid on Christmas. His hands rested on my cheeks, giving me multiple kisses on my face.

“Marinette, I’m excited to live this next step in our lives with you. I’m excited to be a father. I love you so much.” I giggled, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and neck, I hold him close in the middle of the kitchen.

“I love you too Adrien. We’re going to be the best parents, you’ll see.” I set a chaste kiss on his lips, I pull back to look at him and smile.

“While I’m really happy to hold you so closely, can we eat dinner?” His grip loosens slightly, I pull away with a smirk, I playfully roll my eyes.

“Of course.” I laugh softly, shaking my head while he walks to the table grabbing both plates for the both of us to dish up. Before I forget I grabbed two small plates for our Kwamis, the two thanked me and we dished up the food onto our plates.

I stared at my husband, his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth while putting noodles onto his plate. I smiled to myself, what a total dork that I married.

My chest felt warm with happiness looking at Adrien. I felt a little ridiculous feeling so anxious before, I should’ve known how happy he’d be.

He does love my surprises.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tales of ladybug and cat noir #adrienette #ml fanfic #post reveal #tikki and plagg #surprise!#ml fluff #all the fluff

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