#your night with cordelia

[queensparklekitten]

time princess players how do y'all picture the MCs of every story

like since every set and piece of official art has a different hair colour, length, and style with every picture of them, and sometimes there's descriptions that don't match the images, which one do you go with

and do you make half of them look like your avatar or have your own designs

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month. 

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.��

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.  

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.  

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.”  You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.  

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.  

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.  

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.  

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you. 

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

 She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.  

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.  

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”  

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.  

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- In the silence

A/N: This is dangerously close and inspired by the Cordelia Goode version of this that I wrote years ago. I have been enjoying writing for Natasha even though I felt quite anxious about whether I was doing her any justice but the support has been lovely so thank you 🫶🏻

prompt: Natasha and you have always been close, working as avengers beside each other for years. And deep down you both know you love each other. What happens when a mission goes south and you admit your feelings to her?

tags/warnings: female reader, mention of weapons (mild), mention of violence (mild), mention of gunshot wound, mention of blood, angst, fluff at the end

translation: detka= baby

word count: 4.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

Standing by the entrance of the gym inside the avengers compound, you are greeted by warm sunlight coating your cheeks, as well as some music playing loudly in the background. A smile creeps it's way onto your features, as you see Natasha leaning against one of the large glass windows, her breathing heavy as she dives into her protein shake. The gym had always been your safe space, the place you could run to, whether it being one of those days, one of those lonely nights, a mission not going too well or one of the guys annoying you. Most of the other guys would usually use the gym to train, let some anger out on one of the punching bags. To you, it had always been your source of safety and peace and sometimes you question whether it was silly, as after all it was only a gym. However, the only person beside you, treating the place with the same care and feeling the same sense of safety, is currently drinking her protein shake without a care in the world. Natasha.

You watch as she moves from the window back to the equipment, not having noticed your presence yet. Another smile makes it's way onto your features, as you remember seeing her in here for one of the first times, years ago. Her hair used to be shorter, the shade a slightly darker red. The first time you had seen her in here, Natasha for sure intimidated you. Of course knowing about the avengers and Black Widow from reading the stories and seeing her on television, however she undeniably scared you, as she seemed tough both on the inside and out. However, despite some initial holding back on her part, unsure about another woman on the team and also feeling a bit intimidated herself, the two of you quickly got to know each other better, spending many sessions in said gym together, getting to know more about your pasts on missions and sharing the same interests and humour.

She finally turns around, noticing a presence lingering by the door, for a moment she halts, not particularly in the mood for company, as the last few weeks had been filled with missions. However, as she glances up and notices your frame, a smile instantly greets you, the same smile she had reserved specifically for you, even though she wouldn't admit it and you had been too oblivious to notice. You watch as she smiles contently at you for a moment, almost as if she was relieved it’s you and not one of the others. She wasn’t in a talkative mood today, you could tell by her posture and her tense shoulders, that seem to relax when noticing you. Natasha could rely on you, always knowing the two of you can work beside each other without a lot of conversation, if it wasn’t needed. The Black Widow and you had always enjoyed the quiet moments, being in each other’s company, experiencing moments together and words exchanged without speaking. Neither of you needed talking to do that, a little smile an indication or rather a reassurance that either you or Natasha were okay. The smirks exchanged when in company of the others or across the dinner table, either one of you able to judge Steve's stupid jokes or thinking of inside jokes you and Natasha have, without letting the others share or in on your jokes.

Communication has many forms of expressing things, mostly by talking but you and Natasha had always found a different way to communicate. Mostly through mimics, glances and whispered confessions. Of course, that didn’t come naturally and it hasn’t always been this way. But throughout your years with the avengers, Wanda discovering you, finally agreeing to speak to Tony, you had grown close. After walking through the large doors at the compound for the first time, you finally understood Wanda's words and why she spoke so highly of this place. The instant feeling of home and belonging, after sharing a similar fate to Natasha, having been captured and mind controlled half of your life. You quickly became part of the avengers after training with Natasha and Clint, attending sessions at first but they could instantly tell you fit right in with them, your heart in the right place.

From the first training session, Natasha had known that you are destined for this. They allowed you time to arrive there, to get to know everyone, before fully training you to be able to control your abilities and what the organisation had put you through. Eventually, the redhead had asked you whether you wanted to join her on a mission, as she had talked to Tony and thought you were ready. Her offer came as a surprise but she had a feeling about you and it turned out to be right. The first mission was a big success, after all you had done this sorta stuff for your whole life, just playing for the wrong team. And from then on, you would regularly join Natasha and the avengers on missions, after becoming a liable asset to them, the Black Widow even offering you to train newer recruits together and it meant everything, considering you started out that same way.

Once again, you are snapped out of your thoughts, all the memories about joining this place and meeting Natasha slowly pushed into the back of your mind again, as her voice fills the room.

,,Are you just going to stand there?'' she jokes and just with those words, the redhead has your cheeks glowing red as if the sun coating it moments ago, left it burnt.

,,No.. sorry'' you chuckle, finally stepping into the gym, towards her.

,,Penny for your thoughts?'' she speaks again, still a little out of breath as she steps onto treadmill beside you. You simply act as if you didn't hear her, not too keen on sharing what you had gotten lost thinking about, before starting your warm up.

Natasha watches you intently, despite working out herself, having had a feeling lately that something was up with you, as you had been more lost in your thoughts. As she often finds you glancing into nothingness or staring right through her. And it was quite obvious that the redhead cared about you, despite her never admitting it. Natasha was mostly only really nice to you, due to the massive soft spot she has for you. And despite the others, especially Wanda mentioning it a few times, you simply brushed it off, assuming that neither of you could ever be more than friends.

Love had always been a stranger to you, it often felt like a missing piece in your life, seeing couples holding hands or intimate moments shared. However at some point you started to realize that love doesn’t necessary mean being in a relationship with someone or putting labels on something. To you, love had always been about feelings and expressing emotions towards someone, it didn’t need more than that. At some point you realized, that person, your soulmate is closer than you initially thought. For years, Natasha had been your mentor, despite teaching alongside you in the end and always treating you as an equal, however there was something else involved, something almost impossible to put into words.

Both you and Natasha developed a bond, a silent promise that no matter what happens, you would have each others back. Neither of you would let anyone speak bad about the other, often finding either you or Natasha argue with Steve or one of the younger recruits if they dare made a remark about the Black Widow or you. Neither of you would let the other one get hurt, both of you ready to take your last breath’s for one another at any moment given. It had happened once, an unexpected moment, a mission going sideways, the two of you caught in the crossfire before Natasha stepped in front of you, shielding you from the attack.

“How are you feeling?” she asks after a while and your gaze lingers on her, taking your eyes away from the treadmill screen for a moment.

You can’t help but take in her features again, your eyes not able to comprehend her beauty. She is wearing one of your favourite training outfits on her today, completely black, the colour complementing her features and curves perfectly. As you glance into her green eyes, they make you feel calm and at peace, just like they always would. Whether a mission scaring you, one of the guys annoying you, Tony pushing you and demanding too much. Her green eyes are always somewhere to be found, a silent understanding and promise that she had got you.

Of course you had questioned it, after all surely she couldn’t like you, or see you as anything more than being an avenger like her, teaching recruits alongside you and her always being able to rely on you. However throughout all of these years, getting to know Natasha, her dark and troubled past and the scars it had left on her soul, despite her smile and the desire to keep people safe, you realised something. After all, Natasha had given you what you always longed for, those warm smiles, those inside jokes, affection as she always placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder or held you after a tough mission. Her greeting you with a gentle smile or that specific smirk, being enough to make your heart beat faster. Nevertheless, there were nights, those nights where the moonlight would light up your bedroom at the compound, you gazing at the ceiling, wondering what it would feel like to feel her lips on yours, to wake up beside her and to feel her. You would always shake those thoughts away though, grateful to have her in your life, never feeling incomplete but you did wonder sometimes.

,,Out of breath, how about you?'' you joke, noticing her gaze on you, causing for her to shake her head in a playful way before snarkily remarking ,,Same''.

After the two of you finish, you finishing the pre workout and Natasha finishing for the day, she throws you a bottle of water as you sit beside each other, trying to catch your breaths again. Natasha avoids your gaze for a moment, parting her lips as if she wanted to speak. And you could tell, being able to read the redhead like a book at this point. ,,What's on your mind Romanoff?'' you ask, nudging her shoulder a little, to lighten up her serious features. ,,Nothing, I'm fine'' she brushes it off and you accept it, knowing if she was ready she would share what's on her mind.

,,Want some help?'' she asks after a while and you accept gratefully, as she lifts weights with you, impressed after noticing you can bench more and more now since first training you.

,,Natasha?'' you ask gently, after you finish your set with her. Her green eyes meet yours for a second and without words needed you can tell again something is on her mind, the pain and doubt very visible in her green orbs. It tears you apart, hating to see her in any kind of discomfort and knowing something is on her mind, clearly upsetting her. You wish you could fix her, make her smile again, throw silly jokes around, stop the pain, just like the many times she had done the same for you.

“What’s going on? please be honest” you plead, your voice breaking in the second half of your sentence. She averts your gaze again, biting the inside of her mouth as if she was trying to bite the words back, keeping herself from being honest with you.

“You can be honest with me, you know that right?” you try and reassure her, knowing the battle she is fighting in her head currently. She nods at your statement, knowing she can fully rely on you but something is still holding her back, maybe the fact she isn’t sure how to word what she is feeling, as she doesn’t completely understand it herself.

“It’s -” she finally parts her lips, the words trying to spill from her heart but the rational and stubborn Natasha still fighting to be quiet. “I’m here” you whisper, reassuring her yet again. Your hand wanders to her leg, gently swiping your thumb across it in a comforting manner, reassuring her that she can tell you anything, desperately wanting to make her feel better and stop the aching in her heart and your own, seeing her like this.

“Do you ever feel like there is something missing in your life Y/N?” she asks, suddenly the conversation turning more serious, her thoughts slightly trailing off and she allows herself to be honest and vulnerable around you, speaking her mind.

You swallow hard, the only thing to be heard for a moment the beating of your own heart as your mind instantly wanders to that feeling, as you know it too well, despite accepting long ago to be grateful for what you have instead of being upset over what you don’t have.

“Yes I know Tasha” you start “But I learned to understand to be grateful for the things that I have in my life” you explain and yet again your eyes lock, her brows furrowing for a second, before her lips part again.

“But don’t you ever miss anything?” she asks, unable to understand how you could be eternally grateful, without missing anything at all. After thinking about it for a moment you reply “I have everything I need, working here, the avengers, an amazing family here and yo-” you stop yourself, not sure whether naming her of things you need, being too much or too direct in this moment.

“What about love?” she whispers, completely snapping you out of any thoughts, waking you up like a slap from reality. “Lo- love?” you ask, stumbling over your words and locking eyes with the redhead. She nods, a statement of both reassuring you, you heard correctly but also begging you to explain.

“I have love in my life, Nat, it might be a different kind but I’m so grateful” you explain, feeling confident as she started the subject and conversation in the first place and part of you feeling like this being your only chance to ever have an open conversation about this with her.

“But - do you ever wish it wasn’t hidden or silent?” she asks her accent slightly showing, taking you by surprise yet again with her statement. Her eyes haven’t left yours for a second, your hearts beating in synch, as all the silence is finally about to be broken, your feelings open for each other to understand.

“There is still love in the silence Tasha” you reassure her. You watch as her demeanour changes for a moment, as if she just realised what words are being said, for a moment you fear she won’t allow the conversation to go further, maybe getting up and walking out or maybe changing the subject, but yet again the redhead takes you by surprise.

“I just-” you find her stumbling over her words, the usual confident woman faltering under her walls breaking down in front of you. Before you can finish the conversation however, Steve stumbles into the gym, getting both of your attention as he informs you Tony needed you both for an urgent mission. You watch as she grabs her things, before following after you and your eyes don't leave hers for a moment as you wish this conversation could have finished, as you had been so close to finally get there after all these years.

--

Hours later, the quinjet hums softly as it soars through the night sky, carrying the team of Avengers to the next mission. Lately, the missions had been a lot as Tony had been determined to find the base of a secret organisation specialising in the newest weapons and technology. As you glance around the quinjet, you look at their features, being able to tell they had been tired, worn out and in desperate need for a break.

Sitting across from Natasha, the dim light casts shadows that dance across her face. The team was focused, despite the tiredness on their features, also determination, each of them mentally preparing for what lays ahead. However, you couldn't help but steal glances at the redhead. You could tell she was also tired, despite that same expression on her mind from before. And you hate that Steve interrupted you when he did as you wonder where the conversation may have gone. She can't help but give you a reassuring smile as her eyes lock with yours for a brief moment before Tony interrupts the peace and quiet.

,,We are approaching the drop zone'' he announces, standing tall in his Iron Man suit. ,,Everyone ready?'' he confirms before the team nods in unison.

The atmosphere shifts to one of anticipation and readiness, the earlier tiredness quickly vanishing from their determined features. You are quick to check your gear one last time, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. This mission was crucial and you all knew the importance of it, this being the last puzzle piece you needed to complete this whole operation and defeat and expose them once and for all. Which also meant, there was no room for error, no room for you to get distracted due to having Natasha by your side or the others after working hard for the last few weeks in a row.

As the moon illuminates the enemy compound, you and the team descend, everything going to plan at first. Tony cleared the way using his technology, allowing you access before you all split up, everyone having their respective individual tasks on this mission. Tony working on hacking into the compounds database and collecting the necessary data. Clint and Natasha working on taking out any guards to clear the way for the others, while Steve and you needed to find out more about the weapons and technology they store here and how they managed to access the materials and resources as Tony had discovered, they certainly didn't come from earth.

As you and the team entered the foreign compound, everything seemed to go according to plan as you communicated over your coms. Until it didn't- alarms blaring loudly, chaos quickly erupting as more enemy forces swarm the area. More than either of you could have seen coming, more than either of you could take on with the amount of people on this mission. Natasha and Clint fight vigorously, clearing the path for Tony and making sure he could access what he needed without interruptions. Steve and you in the meantime fighting the troops that try to keep their secrets hidden and rid you of your presence in their base.

However, the odds are overwhelming, as whenever you manage to fight most of them away, another group of them arrives, keeping you on your tired feet. Eventually, you find yourself separated from the team, pinned down by heavy fire. Your heart pounds as you fire back, but you knew you couldn't hold out much longer. Suddenly, Natasha appears at your side, as if she was able to feel your struggling. Her movements a blur of lethal precision as she dispatches the attackers, making one after one fly to the nearest wall and knocking them unconscious.

,,Tha- Thank y-ou Tasha'' you breathe out, struggling to stay on your feet and keep your breathing under control. Her eyebrows furrow as she watches your struggling state, you never usually one to get tired on these kind of missions. She worries then, whether you may have gotten injured or if one of them hit you too hard after seeing you from a little further away as she tried to make her way to you, seeing some of the heavy hits and blows you had to endure.

,,Woah, are you alright there?'' she asks, her voice filled with a hint of seriousness and concern. ,,All fine'' you reassure, as she places her hand on your shoulder, trying to keep you up on your feet.

For a moment, everything seems to stand still, the attackers finally gone, the mission seemingly complete as you hear Tony mention something about hacking into their data and getting all the important information. As you glance at the attackers on the floor through your blurry vision, you suddenly notice something out of the corner of your eyes, one of them moving his hand to the gun abandoned on the floor, before you can react aiming at Natasha who still stands there, taking in your features and holding you up.

,,Look out'' you shout, freeing yourself from her grasp before using your last strength to push her out the way and throwing yourself in front of the redhead. With a loud sound and a piercing pain, everything goes quiet, Natasha's screams muffling out as she quickly takes him out.

,,Y/N'' she instructs, kneeling over your form. ,,Keep your eyes open for me'' she pleads, as you look up at her through your blurry vision yet again. She calls for backup in an instant, giving them the exact location and keeping pressure on the wound from the bullet that had entered you, the blood pouring and staining your uniform.

,,You need to look at me detka'' she instructs and you try your hardest, battling the fight of unconsciousness taking over before your lips part slightly. ,,Tasha I-'' you try but she quickly shushes you ,,No don't try to speak, you're okay'' she speaks again, her voice now filled with panic as her hands stain in blood, quicker than she can stop the bleeding.

,,I need to- tell you'' you struggle, as you squeeze her hand tighter, ushering her to look at you. ,,Nat- I- I love- you'' you struggle through your words and you can't see her reaction, both the shock and sadness written across her features as your eyes finally close, your strength staying just how long you needed it, to finally tell her what had been on your mind all this time.

,,No Y/N, not like this'' she instructs as the others arrive, quickly taking your form into their arms and carrying you to the quinjet, making sure to speed through the night sky in order to get you back to the compound and to med bay as soon and quickly as possible. Natasha remains by your side the entire time, her features tense as she couldn't be more angry at you, giving your health away for something so stupid, despite her having done the same in the past and your admission finally confirming what she hadn't only been thinking for a while but also feeling for years. You loved her and there was no doubt about her loving you too, especially seeing you on the brink of this thing, telling you over and over again to keep hanging on.

--

The next time your eyes force open, you find yourself in the unfamiliar surroundings of med bay. So far you had actively avoided it, other than your necessary routine checkups. Everything is white and bright and so your eyes quickly close again, before the feeling returns to your body, at first being able to feel a stinging pain, before feeling something holding on tight to your left hand. As you force your eyes open again, trying to determine the source, you find Natasha sitting beside you, her eyes closed as she had been by your side for hours, sleep finally washing over her, her hand still protectively holding yours nevertheless.

You can't help but smile, not quite remembering what happened exactly before passing out. Remaining silent, you simply rest, trying to shuffle a little trying to get comfortable, not wanting to wake her. However, Natasha was awake in an instant, her eyes snapping open and relief washing over her as she sees you awake. ,,Hi there'' she smiles warmly as she finds your eyes on her. ,,Hi'' you mumble, your voice still hoarse from the medication and pain lingering on your body.

,,How are you feeling?'' she asks, her voice serious as she observes you a little further.

,,Bruised'' you smile, causing the redhead to chuckle and roll her eyes playfully.

,,No shit'' she remarks with a raised eyebrow ,,That's what happens when taking a bullet for me'' she speaks, her tone laced in the slightest disapproval.

,,I'll always take a bullet for you Tash'' and she smiles then, being able to tell the drugs are still in your system a little.

,,You're an idiot'' she smiles, letting go off your hand to offer you some water and more painkillers that Bruce had left there for you.

After taking them as instructed, you keep looking at her and it's that same look you had when confessing your love and Natasha can't help but feel the same feeling in her chest, having wanted to tell you since you fell asleep in her arms after the bullet had hit you. ,,I'm sure you won't remember this by tomorrow but just for the record I love you too'' she whispers, barely audible as your eyes keep closing, still feeling tired from the drugs and painkillers.

,,You- love me?'' you ask surprised and she can't help but chuckle before pressing a kiss to your forehead. ,,Yes detka, now sleep'' she instructs. ,,We'll talk about this another time''. And as your eyes force closed yet again, the smile remains lingering on your face, as her words sink in, knowing that now the two of you wouldn't have to keep loving each other in silence. And Natasha looks forward to have you awake again soon, being able to love each other fully.

[luveline]

Love love love your writing Jade, I must have reread everything a dozen times!

For a dad!character request, what would you think of Single father Remus signing up to chaperone a school event or field trip? Maybe he meets the newest teacher, who happens to be his exact idea of the perfect person for him…

(Lots of love<3)

“Don’t get– forget your coat, dad.” 

Remus grabs his coat from the passenger seat with a self-deprecating sigh. “I’m s’posed to remember things for you, Lia.” 

Cordelia smiles up at him, her shiny coat and boots already taking on rain. “Okay, so ‘member my lunch, then.” 

Remus turns back to the passenger seat to grab her packed lunch from the footwell. “Thank you.” 

Remus is the kind of parent who writes a list every week, budgeting to the penny and laying out uniforms the night before, but he’s off-kilter today. “I wish your teacher could’ve given me some warning.” 

“She’s new, dad. You have to be nice for new people, ‘cos they don’t know– she’s not used to it.” 

Remus locks the car door, already cold to the bone and wishing they could’ve called off sick. He offers Cordelia her lunchbox (which isn’t a box at all, but a padded fabric zip up pouch in fashion with the rest of the girls her age), and tugs on his jacket. It’s not his, it belonged to Sirius a few years ago, but it got left in his wardrobe somehow and he’s been wearing it since. 

“Okay, lovely girl, what’s the rules for today?” he asks, taking her hand. 

“To be good.” 

“Yeah, and what next?” 

“To stay with my buddy.” 

“Yes, and what’s the last one?” 

She beams at him and waves their joined hands. “To have fun!” 

Remus doesn’t think he’ll be having much of it. He isn’t on the PTA, he had no idea parents even went on these trips, but they’re short-staffed at Cordelia’s school lately and now the year two teacher is off sick, and the phone call was a shock. He didn’t have the wherewithal to say no. 

Cordelia’s class are waiting outside of the school gates near a big red and green bus. Remus is the only parent. Why is he the only parent? There are around thirty kids and only two teachers, the newest of which stands at the front, your hands behind your back and a massive smile on your lips despite the bad weather. 

You’re very pretty, Remus has already thought before, and you dress sweetly, happy colours and cute skirts and pants with flowers and hearts and stars. You’re reaching up into the sky as you say, “So they have lots of energy to grow big and tall like us!”

Most of the kids are listening aptly, though pods of them chatter or fight. 

You see Remus quickly and dodge around the children to meet him. “Mr. Lupin! Hello, hi Lia. I have a packet for you.” 

He smiles awkwardly. “Right.” What’s a packet? He looks down at Cordelia but she’s straining against his hand, desperate to go and talk to her friends. “You can go, lovely. I’ll be right here.” 

“Can I sit with you on the bus?” she asks.

He’d definitely prefer it. “Whatever you want to do. Want me to have your lunchbox?” 

“No, that’s okay!” She leans up for a kiss. Remus suddenly wonders if he’s any good at being a parent, knowing you’re watching, but he leans down for a kiss and gives her a quick pat on the back. “Love you.” 

“Love you.” He clears his throat and stands up. “The packet?” 

You’re looking at him funny. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you stay, still smiling. He’s ninety nine percent sure you aren’t making fun. 

You load the children onto the bus and have him stand at the front with you, squished together in the aisle. “This is Lia’s dad, Mr. Lupin. Can everyone say hi?” He’s sure he’s beet red. “He’s our chaperone today. You listen to him just like you’d listen to me or Mrs. Davies. If Mr. Lupin tells you to stop talking, to stop running, anything at all, you listen. But today is about having fun and seeing all the flowers and bugs, so let’s have lots of fun!” You touch his elbow gently. He smiles. 

Lia forgets that she wanted to sit with Remus by that time, and you end up hip to hip in the front row. The children are immensely loud, and Mrs. Davies has to constantly ask them to be quiet, but it’s not as though Remus would notice; when he woke up that morning he had no idea he’d be doing this, his schoolyard crush for you feels as though it’s written over his forehead, and he’s more nervous than he’s felt in years. 

Remus is cool. He’s the cool friend, the quiet, collected one, who doesn’t stutter nor falter, but he finds it harder to be that way with you when you’ve seen him pick Cordelia up from the yard and kiss every inch of her face and tell her in baby talk that he missed her so so much. 

“I got you something.” 

Cool, Remus says to himself. I’m cool. 

You unveil an informational packet and a small purple box. “That’s just the stuff I told you on the phone this morning,” you say, “and some emergency stuff you can read before we get there. God forbid something happen, but if it does, you aren’t liable. I, however, will get in lots of trouble.” You offer the box. Even your hands are cute.

It’s a rough day. The kids are rowdy, the weather is wet. Lia’s friend Kory keeps stepping in puddles and Lia herself won’t leave Remus alone. She wants to eat lunch in his lap and half gets her way, the two of them holding hands, Remus a big head surrounded by little girls. 

“What’s that?” she asks in a whisper. 

“This?” He knocks the purple box with his knuckle. “This was from Miss L/N.” He opens the plastic lid to show her the treasure inside, a caramel donut with chocolate shavings. It looks expensive and delicious. “Should we share?” he whispers back. 

“Yes, please.” 

Remus breaks it in half, and Lia breaks her half into half again to share with Kory. He feels eyes on his face and looks up to find you watching him with a soft look, but you promptly flatten it and look down. You pick at your lunch, and choke when someone asks you if you’re alright.

Oh, he thinks, giving Lia’s back a quick rub. Chaperoning really isn’t so bad.

[femoso-seben]

Mini witch story part one

Part 1, Part 3,

Rua walked over to the table last to arrive, her wolf familiar probably ran off to who knows where. She looked exhausted and behind her walking in shame was her familiar, Soap as she calls him. Apparently, when he was a pup he ate a bar of soap.

“You’re late,” Cordelia chimes in a teacup in her hand. As the oldest, she was the first to receive her demonic animal familiar, a big ol’ brown bear. For an old man, he sure can move fast when he is needed.

“I think you should put him through dog disciplinary training,” Sula said, this earned a growl from the wolf.

“Enough,” Rua sighs collapsing into her seat, “we are here for you,” she turns to me. You held onto my cup of milk.

As the youngest, physically, and mentally even though we all started at the same time. You were frozen in time and space. You look around, they are so much older, and time has taken ahold of them.

“Our Sire will give you a familiar,” Ophelia spoke up setting her cup of vodka down. “Then you can leave this Forrest and explore the world.”

“Why do I have to have a familiar?” You ask.

“In your absence, the mortals began a witch trial,” Rua spoke, “your familiar is there to keep you safe.”

“How?”

“In their humanoid form, they have their animal attributes.”

“Like eating Soap?” Your sisters broke out into waves of laughter and looked at the poor wolf who looked down at his feet.

“Do you have any animals in mind?” Cordelia asks.

“Fluffy. Likes to be around me. Strong. Friendly. Not so demanding… a cat.”

The forest grew cold as the trees warp around you all. Soon your Demonic sire who turned you all to witches walked from the trees. You get up and bow to him.

“Little one,” he begins, “I have your familiar.” You feel yourself blooming into a smile. From his hands, a black mass forms and falls to the ground.

Slime.

“WHAT IS THIS?” You shout poking the weird slimy creature. It lunged at you and gripped your leg. You let out the most horrific scream, and kick her leg throwing it off you. “WHY IS IT UGLY?”

From the back, you hear your sister cackling at you. The little slimy black thing slithers towards you. You look up at your Demon Sire who gives you a blank stare.

“Give me a cat!”

“He is very loyal.” Your sire says.

“HES UGLY AND SMALL!” You shout back picking it up with your staff.

“It’s an octopus,” Sula stated calmly. “A delicacy in Asia.”

“I DON’T WANT IT!” You look at your demonic father only to find him glaring at you. You stare at the little black blob, his Beaty blue eyes staring up at you. You think it’s glaring at you.

It moves closer climbing up your bare legs and to your chest. It sat right above your breast and two long appendages moved to your face. Your skin crawls and you feel the ICK coming. You grab it and punt it to the ground.

“ITS A PERV!” You scream and turn to your sisters for help. Rua turns away laughing to herself.

“You can always throw it away in a far-off land.” Ophelia offer.

“Don’t be foolish, our Familiars have an innate ability to find us,” Sula said.

Fear seeps into your skin. This creepy ugly perverted little thing was attached to you forever. You wanted to cry.

Your Sire and sister left you with these things.

It kept trying to climb up your leg.

You grab it by the head and look it over. An idea hit you.

“I can eat you!” You said a creepy smile crossing your face. Its little eyes and tentacles began to thrash around. You shove it into your bag and rush off to get some sauces and some vegetables.

How would you cook it? On a stove? In water? In bread? You shrug it had eight tentacles you had eight tries.

Your cauldron boiling, cutting board ready you grab the ugly thing and a knife ready to slice it up.

It transforms. In front of you is a huge tall man. You stare at his naked form. It glared at you, through a hood, holding your wrist.

“Let go!”

“NEIN!” He growls out his voice higher pitch than you would have guessed.

“Transform!”

“NEIN!” He said again.

“I am your master!”

“Du worst much night essen.” He snaps. He glared at him. You grab his hood and soon tentacles come out gripping your fingers. You screech and yank your hand away. He chuckles.

You wanted to strangle this man.

You finally agree not to eat him, and in return he lets you go. You also forced him into some clothes. You glared at him, and he watched you closely.

You grab your grimoire and put it into your bag. You are traveling, seeing the world! Staff in hand you walk out of the forest.

The sunset was absolutely stunning, the cliffside falls to crystal clear waters. The smell of freedom was intoxicating.

You feel the skin-crawling sensation of suction cups crawling up your legs you look down to see the disgusting thing crawling up your legs and to your boobs again. You grab it and shove it into your bag trapping it inside.

This bitch was ruining your moment. ------------

@milkywayhou full verson

taglist: @maylovesyousomuch, @trgraves-valx1f0r

[lilianvanrouge]

Sakamaki Brothers x Nursery Maid Reader

You’re a maid who raised all the Sakamaki brothers since they were babies. You being the personal maid of Karlheinz’s children was the only way you could escape marrying Karlheinz himself.

You helped raised Shu when he was a baby. Though Beatrix kept on shoving you away to keep her first child and the heir to the household away from you.

You got more time with Shu when he was older and he loved spending time you. You actually let Shu think for himself instead making decisions for him which he loved about you. You’re the one who introduced Edgar “Yuma” to Shu thinking he needed a friend around his age. You watched over and played with the two boys while in the forest.

When you were tending to Reiji with his studies while Beatrix was doing embroidery, Shu brought home a puppy. Beatrix ordered the puppy taken away and one of your fellow servants began struggling to take away the puppy from Shu. You finally stood up, took the puppy away yourself, and Shu ran away crying. In the middle of the night you woke Shu, who was still mad at you and led him into the forest where you left the puppy. From then on he could visit the dog whenever he wanted.

You taught Shu how to play the violin, because it was your favorite string instrument. Shu liked to perform for you and you often played with him. You also taught him Latin, how to play the piano, and swordsmanship. When Shu once worked as cashier you were happy that he got a job. You smothered him in praise, hugs, and kisses which made the other brothers jealous.

When Shu got lazy, you didn’t scold him. You pitied him because of Edgar “Yuma” and the way Beatrix treated him. You always held him while he slept and stroked his head. The other brothers see this as a sign of favoritism and try to pull you away. This is one of the few times Shu shows emotions by releasing anger.

Though when Shu ended up repeating a grade in high school, Karlheinz sent him to the North Pole. You went after him and found him about to be eaten by polar bears. You saved him and tended to his injuries. He told you that he struggled not falling into the ocean and other polar bears.

When it came to Reiji, Beatrix didn’t even bother to stop you from helping. She practically forced you to take care of him, while she ran off to pamper Shu.

You helped both Shu and Reiji with their studies, but mostly Reiji because he wanted Beatrix to praise him. Unfortunately, that never happened and you were the one always giving Reiji the love, praise, and attention that he always wanted.

When Reiji burnt down Edgar’s “Yuma’s” village you were very hurt, furious, and sad. Reiji thought that night you followed Shu to the human village to bust him. Reiji never felt more scared in his life when he saw your face that night. You wanted to yell and hit Reiji so badly, but you didn’t knowing you would get in trouble with Karlheinz. It also put Shu in trouble for playing with humans and you were the one who introduced him to them. You still never forgave Reiji for that night and for scarring Shu for life.

When Reiji killed Beatrix you were shocked, but you understood why. You were never close to any of Karlheinz’s wives. You planned the funeral and buried Beatrix.

You also bonded with Reiji by playing games of strategy and knowledge. Reiji was very impressed because he never once won against you. Whenever his pocket watch broke, the one he got from Karlheinz, you would fix it. You also taught Reiji how to cook and play the piano.

You were the midwife that helped Cordelia bring Ayato into on March 22, which made him the oldest in ancient Japanese culture. You hated Cordelia and tried to stay away from her the best you could.

You loved watching the triplets play with each other, until Cordelia came and ruined it. Ayato was forced to study by himself without any of your help, while Kanato and Laito played all day. You often sneak into Ayato’s room to help him get done with his studies faster.

You were there when Ayato was drowning in the lake and Cordelia watched him. You wanted to help Ayato, but Cordelia grabbed hold of you and kept threatening you with Karlheinz. That’s when Ayato went under and you snapped. You punched Cordelia in the face and jumped into the lake. Once you got Ayato to shore you gave him CPR. Cordelia was yelling at you now with a black eye and you ran away with Ayato in your arms.

Cordelia did tell on you to Karlheinz, but he did nothing. When Richter saw Cordelia’s black eye he went straight up to kill you, but when you two fought you won. You also didn’t get in trouble for beating up Richter.

Ayato developed his boob fetish, because of you. When Ayato was very little you held him and he’d bury his head in your boobs like a plump, plush, pillow. You would turn red and were very uncomfortable by this. When he was a baby with his two other brothers they made an effort to breastfeed from you, which Cordelia did to them. You put them on the ground when they made an attempt to breastfeed.

Whenever Ayato’s stuffed bunny that Karlheinz gave him got torn you fixed it. You’re also the one who introduced Ayato to takoyaki. When Ayato went to the North Pole to find Santa Claus you freaked out and went after him. You also hid Ayato in your room when Cordelia was mad at him or wanted him to study.

You scolded Ayato for getting bad grades in high school, but he didn’t care. He only cared when you stared awarding the other brother with gifts and their favorite food when they brought back good grades. Your personality also goes well with Ayato because you’re also aggressive and hate to lose. The first time he challenged you to a basketball game. He didn’t score a single point against you and keeps on challenging you. Even though he’ll never win.

You helped Cordelia bring Kanato into the world on March 21. Cordelia breastfed him as a baby and he tried to feed from you but you refused. You gave Kanato the attention he wanted, that Cordelia never gave enough of. You also scolded him to stop harming himself just for Cordelia’s attention.

Kanato loves to sing to you, but Cordelia doesn’t and tries to stop him. He mostly sings Scarborough Fair, but you like to sing to and with him. You sung to all the Sakamaki brothers when they were babies.

You were appalled finding out Kanato made dolls out of Cordelia’s lovers and sacrificial brides. Cordelia on the other hand supported this habit. You were horrified seeing Kanato become a necrophile because of this, but you were glad he wasn’t a necrophilia. Once you found out that Cordelia has been letting Richter suck her blood in front of Kanato you tried to keep Kanato away from her.

When Kanato burned Cordelia’s dead body you were happy, because it saved you the trouble of burying her. Kanato personally asked you to sew the jar of Cordelia’s ashes inside Teddy. Now you have to comfort him every time it rains like the night he cremated his mother.

Kanato personally prefers your cooking over anyone else’s in the world. He loved your raspberry pudding the best. If anyone else made it, he could tell and go into a destructive temper tantrum. You also sew stuffed animals for Kanato. He also loves to sing to you when he was little, but Cordelia only wanted his voice for her. So Kanato sung to you in secret, but he’s more open to it since Cordelia died. He also has a habit of forcing you on picnics just to get some alone time with you.

You helped bring Laito into the world on March 20, which technically makes him the oldest if it wasn’t for ancient Japanese culture. Like Ayato and Kanato, he was breastfed by Cordelia and tried to feed from you too but you refused. When Kanato and Laito were little they always followed you around.

Laito always needed the most love and attention since he was nothing to Cordelia, while Ayato was the “Successor” and Kanato was her “Songbird”. You always played games with Laito and you were the one who taught him how to play the piano. You also gifted him his fedora, which he doesn’t often like to take off. You’ve given other hats like a green beret, a black ball cap, and a black sun hat. You’re also the one who introduced him to macaroons.

When you found out Laito had an incestuous relationship with Cordelia you got physically sick and threw up. Once Karlheinz heard of their relationship he locked Laito down in the dungeon, while Cordelia was unpunished. Laito yelled to be let free, but no one would help him. You snuck down into the dungeon to free Laito, but stopped seeing that Cordelia and Richter were having sex in front of him. You were disgusted and outraged at this and immediately freed Laito.

Ever since then, things have been extremely awkward between you and him. Laito tried to rebuild your relationship, but it would never be the same.

You helped bring Subaru into the world. Even knowing that Subaru was a baby born by incest by Karlheinz and his cousin Christa. However, this didn’t stop you from loving him. If anything this made you hate Karlheinz even more. You kept Subaru far away from Christa when he was a baby, since she is mentally ill. So you were mainly Subaru’s mother.

You took Subaru to visit his mother by force from him or Karlheinz. You make sure to never leave the room when Subaru visits his mother alone.

You remembered when Christa was pregnant with Subaru, she tried to kill Subaru. You slapped and she fell to the ground crying. She kept on saying that Subaru was impure and will ruin her beauty. You slapped her again angry. You never thought Christa was beautiful anyway.

When Christa calls Subaru an abomination you remind him that you love and that’s all that matters. When she tells Subaru to kill her you tell him that you will kill her. But you tell not to tell anyone or else Karlheinz will kill you. Subaru didn’t want to imagine you dead and kept quiet.

When Christa hit Subaru and ran to Karlheinz, you were furious. You walked straight up to Christa who was still in Karlheinz’s arm and punched her. You were dragged away sentence to be locked away tower and Subaru watched the whole thing in fear and sadness. This was when Subaru started hating Christa and had trust issues with females.

Upon your return the brothers were overjoyed of your return, but Subaru did greet you. He locked himself away blaming himself for your arrest. You met with him by force and he broke down crying seeing that you were actually happy to him again. He blamed himself for your and been alone. During that time alone he vowed to kill Christa.

When Subaru broke a statue and Karlheinz threw him in the middle of the ocean you went to rescue him. You took notice to how Subaru liked Kanato’s and your singing. You also gifted him mobile games which he treasured.

You were currently sleeping when you turned to your side and saw Kanato staring down at you.

“Ah!! Kanato what are you doing in here?!” you shouted, startled.

“I’m hungry, I demand that you make me food,” he said.

You sighed, got out of bed, and made Kanato breakfast. When the brothers left for school you were happy. You finally had time to yourself since you did all the cleaning yesterday. You took this chance to go into the city and go shopping. There at the coming back from the market was where you met another supernatural creature.

“(Y/N)! I’m hungry! Make me some takoyaki!” shouted Ayato from a another room.

“While you’re at it (Y/N); I need you to wash my underwear!” shouted Laito.

“I would also appreciate it if you could make me some tea,” said Reiji.

You sighed and tended to all their needs. You began walking down the hallway to do Laito’s laundry.

“You should really stop spoiling them,” said Subaru as you passed.

“I’m just a maid. I can’t say no to them,” you said.

Subaru clicked his tongue and then disappeared. You started the laundry outside, because the triplets like their clothes washed by hand. Another one of your fellow servants came out to talk to you.

She was your only friend at the mansion, but she hated the Sakamaki boys. She also hates their mothers, but thankfully for her two out of three of them were dead.

“I don’t understand how you can deal with those monsters,” said ____

“Well I helped raise them so everything is fine,” you said.

“Have you ever thought about leaving?” asked ____

“Of course, I have! But it was mainly because of Cordelia. I also may have. . .” you said.

“May have what?!” asked ____, curiously eager.

“I may have met someone while I was out shopping, and I’m going to meet with him again tomorrow while the boys are at school,” you said blushing.

“Really?!” she said happily.

“Yeah,” you said.

It was the next day and you visited your crush once again. You kept this up and it became a daily routine for you on the weekdays. You made sure to keep this a secret from the boys even if it costs you your life.

You were now serving food to the brothers for their monthly dinner party. They took notice to how absent minded you were, which is very uncommon for you. You also weren’t talking to any of them.

“Yo, (Y/N)!” shouted Ayato.

“Huh?!” you said, snapping out of your day dream.

“I asked you three times to pour me some wine!” said Ayato, annoyed.

“Sorry,” you said.

You said and began pouring some wine into Ayato’s glass. You then began blanking out again and ended up spilling wine on the table and on Ayato.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong with you? You never lose focus,” said Reiji.

“Yeah, and I’m proof of that! Now grab a napkin and clean this off of me!” said Ayato.

The wine was spilt on his stomach and crotch. You gave Ayato a serious side glance and he flinched. He clicked his tongue and started cleaning himself up. But you’ll still wash his clothes by hand.

You left their dinner early to get some rest, because the night after tomorrow was the vampire ball. You had to attend by force because of Karlheinz.

It was now the night of the ball and you were serving vampires. The boys were about to do their speeches when a chandelier almost crushed them. You were shocked but knew it was Kanato because he was far away from the chandelier looking disappointed. The servants were told to clean up the mess, while you were supposed to bring more food.

You went to the kitchen and was about to grab some trays when you heard more glass drop. You knew it had to the glasses for the wine and other alcoholic beverages. You sighed and went to the broom closet to help with the clean up.

You turned around and hearing the door shut behind you. You scowled seeing that it was a random vampire.

“Hello (Y/N),” he said.

“What the hell do you want?!” you asked angrily.

“Wow! So vulgar, but yet so bold! I don’t know whether to call this courage or stupidity!” he chuckled.

“It’s courage. And in a second I’m about to show you how fierce I am by kicking your ass! And I’d rather do it while you’re in your true form, Karlheinz,” you said angrily.

Karlheinz smirked and turned back into his true form.

“You’re more beautiful than last time I saw you, (Y/N),” said Karlheinz, walking to you.

You didn’t fall for any of his flattery and scowled. Once he was getting too close for your comfort, you started baring your teeth and cracking your knuckles. However, he wasn’t intimidated by you not one bit.

“Your (h/c) hair is as (h/l), soft, and as great smelling as usual. And your (e/c) eyes are firey as usual! If you keep looking at me like that I might catch fire!” he chuckled.

He came to close and grabbed a lock of your hair. You then delivered a hook powerful enough to to smash right through his head. He saw this coming however, and dodged your punch jumping backwards. You ended hitting a panty shelf with dust and food going everywhere. On closer inspection your fist left a deep, large crater in the stone wall.

Karlheinz, now far away from you had his hands on his knees laughing as he brushed away a stray hair.

“You’ve grown more powerful!” he said. “You truly should’ve been my first wife. But regardless you’ll be my favorite wife, even more than Christa. And I know that you would bare such powerful children. This will be art of fine breeding between you and I.”

“Don’t make me vomit! The thought of me being under you makes me want to commit suicide,” you said, angrily.

“Now, now, who said I’ll be on top. It’s clear that you’re very dominant so you’ll easily put me under you,” he chuckled.

You were ready to snap his neck when you heard the kitchen door open.

“(Y/N), I acquire you to supply more wine!” said someone.

It sounded like Reiji. Karl, was immediately pissed and you shoved right passed him to go back to work.

Three Months have passed since the ball and the brothers were having their monthly dinner party. Your only friend was serving alone.

“Hey, where’s (Y/N) at? I need her to make me some sauce to go with my takoyaki. In matter of fact throw this shit away altogether. This tastes nothing like her takoyaki!” complained Ayato.

“Yes, I agree. This tastes nothing like (Y/N)’s cakes and pastries. I’m infuriated,” said Kanato, calmly but full of anger.

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen (Y/N) all day either,” said Laito, with a smirk.

“____, where is (Y/N)?” asked Reiji.

“She left,” said your friend.

“Tpht! When will she be back to cook a proper dinner then, since your food tastes like ass?!” said Ayato.

“Jeez, shut up!” said Subaru.

“She left,” repeated your friend.

“Yes, we understand that fucking part but when is she coming back?!!” shouted Ayato, angry.

“She!! Left!!” shouted your friend.

All the boys eyes widened finally realizing what was going. Even Shu was wide awake.

You were currently in a limo with your new fiancé (I like to imagine him as Sebastian Michaelis). Your fiancé stroked your head as you rested it against his shoulder and closed your eyes. But they immediately shot open realizing that something was wrong. The next thing you knew the limo hit something and went flying through the air. You and your fiancé managed to escape with ease before the limo fell off the cliff and exploded.

“What The Hell!?!” you shouted.

“Are you okay?!!” asked your fiancé.

“Physically, yes!! Mentally, no!!” you shouted.

You looked up on the mountainside to see the Sakamaki brothers.

“Boys. . . ? What The Actual Hell!?! Did You Boys Do This!?!” you shouted.

“That should be obvious,” said Reiji.

“Why did you leave us without telling us?” asked Kanato, emotionlessly.

“Leave, my ass!! She flat out abandoned us!!” shouted Ayato.

“Abandoned?!” you shouted.

“That’s right, (Y/N)! So you better have a good explanation for us or else!” said Laito, happily.

Shu just glared down at you from the cliff.

“Enough of your loud ass voices!! (Y/N) speak!!” shouted Subaru.

“It’s just. . . You boys are too old to have me anymore. You don’t need a nursery maid anymore,” you said.

The brothers had a look of sadness before it turned into rage.

“What the hell?!! So you don’t want to stay with us?!!” shouted Ayato.

“I love you boys!! I truly do!! But it’s time for me to start a new chapter of my life!” you shouted, beginning to cry.

“So that’s why you’re with this demon. You’re marrying him aren’t you?” said Shu, calmly but still angry.

You looked down at the dirt. The brothers got even more angry that you’re marrying a demon instead of a vampire. The thought of you marrying a demon gave the brothers Cordelia vibes since she was the Demon Lord’s daughter.

“You are not marrying some demon!!!” shouted Ayato.

“Exactly. In any case you should marry one of us,” said Laito.

“I can’t do that!!” you shouted.

“Why not?” asked Kanato.

“First of all I’ve raised all of you since you were born! It’d be gross!!” you shouted.

Laito got angry remembering being Cordelia’s sex partner.

“Also the reason why I became a maid was to escape marrying your father. Otherwise I would’ve been his first wife before Cordelia. I’ve been running from your father for centuries, until he came up with a compromise. If I raised you all of for (time) years then I could leave. Now that time is up,” you explained.

“So in other words we have to kill our father to make you stay,” said Ayato.

“No!! That’s not the problem!! Regardless, if Karlheinz is dead or not; I’m still getting married and leaving!! And once he finds out that you boys feel strong enough to marry me; he’ll kill all of you and try to start over with me!! Best case scenario is that I’ll be locked in a separate tower from Christa!!” you said.

Subaru flinched at the mention of his mother. He jumped off the cliff and in front of you. The next thing you knew everything went black. When you woke up you were in chains in the dungeon. All the brothers were standing and staring at you outside of your cell. You took noticed to the cell being the same one Laito was locked in.

“Look Teddy, Mother’s finally awake,” said Kanato.

You knew this had gotten really bad. The boys haven’t called you mother since they were little.

“What are you doing?!!” you asked, panicked.

“Calm down, Mother. This is only temporary until one of us becomes head of the household and kill Karlheinz. Since this is only the only logical way we can marry you,” said Reiji.

You knew this was going to take centuries remembering all the sacrificial brides who failed to awaken.

“Just so you won’t escape again,” said Laito, with a smile.

Shu and Subaru threw a beheaded ____ at you. You screamed and cried seeing your only friend in the mansion.

“The bitch knew you were getting married and didn’t tell us. But don’t worry there will be no more secrets for you to hide from us. Since you’re trapped here forever,” said Ayato.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Part eight! Buckle up, that's all I will say. Much love.🤍🥹

warning: kids, past trauma, wing clipping, wounds, blood, all the horrors of Illyrian camps.

Not proof read yet!!!

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The room felt warm and quiet. You could hear people talking outside as they passed by, but it didn't bother you. The sound was muffled enough to mix and twirl with the sounds of the river. You had no idea when the last time you slept so peacefully was. Not a single night terror. Not a single flinch. There was no need to jump up every time an unknown sound filled the room. This felt safe. Happy. You blinked a couple of times. You could tell that the room was brightly illuminated by the morning sun, but no direct sunlight hit your eyes. Now you know why. Azriel had his wing wrapped around you, the bridge of it acting as your shield against the careless beam of light. You reached up mindlessly, brushing the tips of your fingers over the delicate leather, making Azriel growl ever so slightly.

You moved to turn towards him. Last night felt like a dream. Cordelia, Azriel's mother, had welcomed you with so much love that it was overwhelming. Zofie and Axel were high on attention. They sang all the songs they knew and even danced together. You had never seen them so lively. So eager to be on the receiving end of attention. Sure, they enjoyed the activities in the sanctuary. But most of them were mandatory. Children had to attend classes and have afternoon activities. And yes, they smiled while doing it, but it never came close to the smile that shined on their faces last night.

You moved your hand to the side, where Zofie usually slept. Eager to brush your fingers through her, no doubt, messy hair since she was way too tired last night to detangle her curls. But all you were met with were the cold sheets. Your heart instantly sank. Your body jolted as you sat up, pushing Azriel's wing away.

"Where are they?", your words came out almost breathless as you looked across the room. There was no sign of Axel either. A warm palm moved to caress your lower back. "Hey, calm down", the spymaster's voice was low and husky. Laced with deep sleep. And even if you wanted to bask in the sight of him, your anxious brain quickly pushed the image of him sprawled out next to you away. "Azriel", you hissed, moving to get out of bed, but he quickly caught your wrist. "They are with my mom", he muttered. "Alone?", your eyes darted towards the window. So many what-ifs were clouding your vision.

"Get back in bed", you felt a tug on your hand. But it was not only the fear for your kids that clawed at you. You two hadn't talked after the kiss. You sat on his lap last night. He had an arm wrapped around your lower back. A feathery kiss here and there. But... what if it was just a high of the moment? What if he had changed his mind? The next tug was way stronger. Azriel practically dragged you up and over his chest. As if it was nothing. As if moving your body around was the easiest thing ever.

"Azriel", you huffed, trying to fight against his touch but knowing full well that there was no way you were getting away from him. So you turned to face him. His loving eyes were already gazing at you. The shadowsinger made a quick move by pushing some of the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes before muttering, "My shadows are with them. They are safe. Mom is looking after them". You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he cut in quickly, "They are eating street pancakes now". A light smile tugged at his lips. A knowing one. "How do...", you muttered. "I see through my shadows. They are safe and happy", Azriel said with a little chuckle, no doubt watching these two do something they probably shouldn't.

"And before you ask, yes, they have mittens on", Azriel jabbed his fingers into your side, making you squirm. "Fuck you", you huffed, rolling your eyes. A deep chuckle slipped through his lips. "I would not decline", the spymaster said in a teasing manner. You gapped at him, shoving at his shoulder. "Azriel", you winced, hating how your cheeks were already getting crimson. "You say my name awfully often this morning, love", he breathed out innocently. But the embarrassment that ran through you had you hiding your face in his neck. Azriel instantly opted to run his palm up and down your back. Fingers innocently brushing against the ham of the shirt you had on. His shirt. Because magically, all of your nightgowns had disappeared, and last night you didn't want to argue with Azriel about it. A tight pang ran through your chest. Brushing a dark layer over the sweet moment. It all felt too good. Too nice. Too calm. You had never... never had a chance to have a boyfriend growing up, so, love, let's say it's been tucked deeply into your chest. Dusty, forgotten. So it couldn't just come undone so easily. Right?

"Stop worrying", Azriel grumbled. You could feel the way his chest moved with every word that he spoke. The fact that he could read you so well when, for so many years, no one could... "I can't", you muttered so quietly. Voice barely a whisper. Azriel quickly shifted, pulling just enough for him to see your face. "Do you think I would seriously let them do something that would put them in harm's way?", his voice was much more serious now. There's not a thread of that teasing undertone. Puff. Gone. A soldier made of steel.

You shake your head, "No", you hate the doubt that still rumbles deep within your gut. "I'm just scared to let them go... I don't know", you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. Azriel quickly cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. "You gave them a chance at a beautiful life, love. This just adds to it". You let out a sigh. "Well, so did you", you smiled at Azriel softly, finger running over his eyebrows, trying to learn every detail of his face. "They adore you", you humed after a moment of silence. The memory of Zofie and Axel making this hulk of a male twirl in the kitchen last night flushed through your mind. "I adore you", Azriel mused softly. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Smooth", you muttered, shaking your head.

But you're met with Azriel's dazed eyes. As if there's nothing he would rather be looking at than you. As if you are the most important thing right now. "You look pretty", and it's the endless love-sick words that cause you to drop your gaze as you try to hide your face from him. "Very funny", you mutter. You could only imagine how disheveled you looked. Messy hair, no makeup. Not put together at all. Most males would run. But not Azriel, as you feel his fingers moving over your bare thighs. "I'm serious. It's like you're... glowing", and you can't take his adorations any longer as you move closer to him, reaching for his face. "What are you doing?", Azriel says as you move to straddle his hips. You only throw him a grin and say, "Keeping your mouth busy."

You two were halfway through your breakfast when the door creaked open and fits of giggles filled the place. You nearly fell back as you moved to stand up, hurrying towards the hallway. Too long. They had been away from you for too long. Waking up without them next to you had left you anxious, no matter the distractions. "Y/n", cheerful squealing filled the space as the two kids took off towards you, muddy shoes still on. "My babies", you kneeled instantly, opening your arms to them. Not minding the cool material of their winter clothes, dampened by the snow.

But keeping them still seemed impossible. Too much energy and excitement still bubbled within their tiny bodies. "You would not believe it! There's a fountain with spinning water fairies", Axel beamed, his hands flailing upwards as he showed you different shapes. "And there are golden flowers, too", Zofie pulled at your hand eagerly. "That sounds beautiful. I hope you were behaving nicely", you looked at the two of them as they nodded their heads.

Azriel watched you from the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest. He had seen the things they had gone up to, so it was you who had his full attention. The way the blanket of worry melted away. Leaving the smell of happiness behind. No longer was there a painful tug deep within him. The pain seemed glossed over. Gone simply. Watching you smile at the two kids, he suddenly realized that he would be fine with watching you like this forever. In reality, it seemed as if he needed nothing else. "Granny bought us roasted chestnuts to try", now those words had made Azriel bite down on his breath, and from your way, your shoulders stiffened; he knew that it struck you too. Granny. Azriel wondered how long it would take his mother to usher the kids to her side. Even if his childhood was horrible, his mother was the only thing keeping him alive. That hour, which Azriel was allowed to spend with her, always fueled him. Ignited enough strength so the tiny bat would not crumble completely.

"These two had stolen the whole town's hearts", Cordelia mused happily, arms full with bags, Azriel moved swiftly, taking them from her. A knowing look on her face said it all. Azriel didn't need to say anything. If he could fool his brothers, he could never fool his mother. "Did you two say thank you?", you gave both of the kids a look, and they once again nodded eagerly. Not missing a beat. Cordelia smiled right back at them.

"Y/N, can I have a quick word?" The older lady turned your way, and dread instantly bloomed within you. You threw Azriel a look, but he just shrugged his shoulders before turning to the two troublemakers, drawing shapes in the mud that they stomped inside. "Let's get you two washed up", he said, lifting the two of them easily, each resting in the crook of Azriel's armpits, laughing hysterically.

"I hope they haven't caused too much trouble, ma'am", you stood up quickly, smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Making a mental note to mop the floors after. "Sweetheart, I thought we agreed on Cordelia", she shook her head in disbelief, but the smile didn't leave her face. "And it's not about the kids...", her eyes followed the noise coming from the end of the hallway. You could hear the mixture of laughter drowning out the silent walls. "It's about my boy", Cordelia breathed.

You watched her gaze get distant for a moment before she squeezed your hand. "My boy, I see the way he looks at you. Last night he couldn't keep his eyes off you", your cheeks heated at her words. You thought the glances were careful. Not too obvious, but it seemed you had been wrong.

"He's a handful at times, but... when he loves... he loves with all that he has", sadness lined her words now. You knew snippets of his past. Who hadn't? The whole court drummed with stories of him. His arms were a dead giveaway of his traumatic upbringing. But you never held that against him. It was a part of him. A part that needed to be loved just as much. "Don't play with his heart", Cordelia's last words came out more like a plea, and your heart bled alongside hers.

"I'll cherish it; I will", You turned to the elderly lady, taking both of her hands into hers. She threw you one of her signature-knowing looks. "Promise to bring my grandchildren around often. Been waiting way too long for them", you can't help but chuckle lightly. You doubted you would be able to hold Zofie and Axel away even if you wanted. They had fallen hard for the love they never got to experience. A grandmother's love. You turned to reach for the rest of the scattered things when Cordelia caught your hand. "And, YN", she said softly, "You were meant to find each other". It felt as if your chest hallowed out for a moment before filling with so much light that it was almost too painful to bear.

Azriel grew more worried as the day moved toward the evening. He was planning and talking with Rhys through his mind. Setting up the final times for the dinner. Shoving Rhys smug ass right out when his brothers started teasing. He was nervous. Was he nervous? He realized now that he had never brought anyone around. Well, he wasn't an innocent man. The three of them had shared females in the same room while they were young. But this wasn't that. This was so much more than that. The thought of having to share you with anyone made Azriel's blood run thick. No, you were his. As much as he didn't want to grow possessive, his scent had mingled with yours. In the same way, notes of oranges and vanilla were now intertwined with his musky scent, in more than one way, you had became his.

A thud from behind the closed door made Azriel lift his head. Axel and he had been waiting in the living room for you and Zofie to get ready. And while Axel had been fully occupied with the book that Cordelia had slipped into his hands, Azriel was growing impatient. He hadn't seen you for over a couple of hours. A couple of hours too long that was.

He heard you hissing Zofie's name, making his eyebrows scrunch. "What's going on in there", the spymaster muttered under his breath. Mostly to himself. So he was more than surprised when he heard a response,"You know females", Axel laughed under his breath, not lifting his eyes from the pages. "Axel", Azriel brushed his hand over his stubble as he tried to contain his smile. That boy was seriously way too smart for his age. Azriel chose to stay back until he could hear the frustrated stomping; that was enough to pull him from his chair.

"Can I come in?", he breathed after knocking softly. The door opened almost immediately, and Mother have mercy on him. He was ready to fall to his knees as his eyes landed on you. Wavy hair falling behind your shoulder, and a deep blue velvet dress hugging every curve of your body. And all of a sudden, the top button of Azriel's shirt felt too tight, cutting off the normal airflow, pants too itchy. The spymaster quickly pulled his eyes away from you, trying to find something else to look at.

"What's wrong", he tried to peek behind your shoulder. Getting a glimpse of Zofie with her hands crossed over her chest. You let out a sigh as you stepped aside, "She doesn't like her hair". Azriel strided ahead, moving toward the little ball of frustration, glaring at the floor as if it had done something to personally offend her.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Azriel directs the question at Zofie, who only pouts harder. "My hair", the girl tugs at her messy curls, the color of the night itself. As wild as her too. "I think it looks pretty", Azriel says softly, but Zofie is quiet enough to throw him a look that tells him that she's not buying his bullshit, no matter how hard he tried. Azriel just shakes his head in disbelief. These kids... His eyes catch a glimpse of a light blue ribbon, his hand reaching towards it almost subconsciously. "Come, sit on my lap", the shadowsinger urges the girl up the bed before his fingers brush through her long hair. And soon he finds himself in that long-forgotten rhythm of braiding someone's hair.

The rest of the evening was a big blur. Brushing at Axel's shirt. Reassuring Zofie that there was nothing to fear. Cordelia waving you all goodbye. Azriel talking, but you barely heard him through your panic. And then there's Rhys walking towards you all on his massive balcony, arms outstretched.

"Welcome, I was worried Azriel had hidden you in his cave", the high lord jabbed at his brother, making Azriel roll his eyes. But he doesn't say anything; his attention is more focused on Zofie, who has her head hidden in the crook of his neck.

"It's good to see you here, darling", Rhys reaches for your hands, and even if you know this man, had seen him at his lowest, it still feels weird being here like this. You work in his sanctuary. You are summoned by him. But it's only his office you agree to go to. Only if he winnows you straight there and back. And you know deep down that you two are linked in more than one way, but you push those thoughts away.

"It's good to be here", you say, smiling up at him. "Hope my brother didn't give you too much of a hard time", Rhys chimed, making you turn towards Azriel, who stood there more than unimpressed. "I'll issue you a paycheck", you chuckle, and you could swear that even Azriel's lip twitched with a smile for a moment.

"Uff, right in the nuts", another, much louder voice cuts in, followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tiles. "Cassian, there are kids around", a female tugged at the winged male's shirt tightly, but that only made his grin wider. "I've seen your head", and it's Axel who's pointing his little finger at the high lord. You quickly bat his finger away, shaking your head at him for the inappropriate gesture. But Rhys doesn't seem to mind as he leans closer to the boy, "And I've heard that you're growing up to be quite a soldier", your eyes darted up to Azriel. Had he been talking about you all with his family? Well, of course, he planned this, but... you can plan something without talking about the person you bring. But Azriel has a proud smile on his face as he watches the boy, and the way his eyes grow big. "Will give us competition, huh", Cassian adds, and you could swear Axel holds himself even taller as he glances at the two males, nodding.

"Why don't we all go inside", a female moves to wrap her arm around Rhys. You don't even need her to introduce herself; you know who she is, Feyre. You've seen her through Rhys's eyes, and, well, she's even more beautiful in person. "Come, my son is excited to meet you too, bud", Rhys reaches for Axel, who clasps the lord's hand tightly. You feel Azriel's hand on the small of your back as he ushered you towards the glass door.

The evening is nothing but lovely. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows surprisingly easily. The light-teasing remarks and jokes that keep flying left and right slowly eat at the tension in your shoulders. And sure, they all seem nice, but you also understand why being here would hurt Azriel. You would have to be blind to not see the amount of love that pours out of the two couples. And even if you were blind, you would still feel it. It's in the air. The looks. The touches. You imagine how lonely it must have been for Azriel. How... your hand reaches for his beneath the table, giving it a little squeeze. The spymaster glances your way, a light smile tugging at his lips.

Your eyes dart toward the three kids next. Nyx is about Zofie's age, and quite frankly, from the moment he saw her, he's been looking at her as if she's hung the stars in the sky. But the two are way too shy to talk to one another. So it's Axel who's been babbling away all evening. You can't help but smile once more. It would be lovely for them to have another friend. Someone out of their circle. And Nyx has wings too. Him and Axel could learn together. The boy practically has a heart of gold, so you're nothing but sure that he would never make fun of Axel for the way his wings were. Considering that that hadn't been brought up ever once tonight.

Just suddenly, the door burst. You don't even get to turn your head to the side before you feel Azriel moving to stand up; the absence of him is instantly unsettling. And then you see it. Someone you knew was missing from this table all along.

"Elain", Azriel's voice is filled with disbelief, and your gut curls into itself. You grip your fork tightly. What right did you have to get upset over this? You watch the surprise rippling through the female, who looks shocked to see Azriel. It doesn't help that she's gorgeous too. From her perfectly braided hair to her light pink dress, she's the complete opposite of you. "Azriel?", she says, shaking her head before leaping into his arms. And something about that hug. The way he's holding onto her sides and the way she has her arms wrapped around his neck makes you want to run away and hide. You feel a light tug at your side, turning to find the two kids now by your chair. Big eyes, full of questions, watching you.

"I thought...", the female stuttered, right as another male walked through the door, still fixing his shirt. "We do apologize for being late", his dark red hair swaying as he moved towards the table. "No, I'm aware that you two have been busy", Rhys purred back with a smirk. A knowing look painted the autumn male's features. "You... you accepted the bond?", Azriel muttered, and it's as if he's freely chosen to take chunks of your heart out tonight. And you're ready to talk and listen about anything but this. You don't want to be here anymore. Anything, you plead, give me anything.

As if summoned by you, a paper note falls right onto Rhys's plate. The male startles for a moment before reaching for it. His face darkens more and more as his eyes race through the words. The high lord's eyes meet yours over the table, "North Camp," and that's all you need to hear before moving to get up.

The dinner is long forgotten after that. Rhys winnows everyone back to the sanctuary. The grip Zofie and Axel have on you is making it hard for you to move. The troupe is getting armed, and you know that you need to be doing the same. "I want to go to Grammy", Zofie says quietly into your skirt. You kneel in front of them, "We can't go now. You two will have to stay in our old room", you say softly. You never had to leave with them present, and suddenly you realize why. Leaving them like this is more than painful.

"I can take them," Feyre cuts in. You saw the way all color disappeared from her face when she saw all of these kids and females in front of her. "You two hear that, high lady will take you to Cordelia", you cup their faces gently. "And Azriel?", Axel looks around, trying to spot the tall figures through the sea of bodies. "I don't know, bud. He was never a part of our world anyway", you hate the words that slip past your lips the moment you see confusion running through the boy's eyes. Your petty hurt is the last thing they need now. So, you kiss both of their foreheads and say, "Don't get into too much trouble without me", you flick both of their noses playfully before stepping away quickly. Turning from them so they won't see the tears on your face.

"Stay close", the voice alone has a shiver running down your back. You turn to face him. Azriel is in full Illyrian leathers, striding towards you. "Don't make this complicated", you hiss through clenched teeth, putting a dagger in the strap around your thighs. "I'm trying to keep you safe", there's that same pleading tone in his voice, but you no longer buy it. Not after tonight. Not after his whole body changed when he saw Elain.

"I was perfectly safe before you came around", you bite back. And you know, the words sting. Taking Azriel by surprise, almost. But you don't know what he expected. For you to bounce back? To not mind. "Take your brothers, go to the upper camp, and find the kids", you say bluntly. You know you are in no position to order him around, but you don't care anymore. Azriel opens his mouth as if to say something before closing it back up. You shake your head at him. And he's left to watch you rush towards the sanctuary soldiers, shouting commands before your hands disappear into a glowing light and everything grows static for a moment. As if your powers had managed to slow down time, draw elements from the air around everyone.

Azriel can't shake the sick feeling as he winnows alongside his brothers. He caught the disapproving look on Rhys's face, but the male said nothing. Deep down, Azriel knows that's not the thing that's making him uncomfortable. He didn't say anything to the kids. He tried to look for them in the sea of people but to no avail. He only found you because a soldier directed him. It's as if you didn't want to be seen by him. His head was a mess; it was not how he imagined the night to go. And Elain and Lucien... It took him by surprise, but he was happy for them. Elain reeked of the autumn male, and Lucien swaggering in all disheveled was a true cherry on top. But they were meant to be together.

"Front door", Rhys murmured through the mind bond, and Azriel only nodded before kicking the door open. The three males inched inside. The letter looked sketchy if Azriel was being honest. A sacrifice. The camp leader made a sacrifice to make a point. Show Rhys that he had no powers up in the mountains. With kids held in the upper cabin before the slaughter. And he could hear the cries, but no matter where they looked, there wasn't a single body in the house.

"What the fuck is this?", Cassian cursed as he yanked yet another door open, only to be met with the same nothingness. "Basement?", Rhys asked, his eyes scanning the floorboards. But they all knew there was no way; the sound was coming from the side. And then Azriel felt it. As if someone reached into his chest, yanked his heart out, and ripped it to pieces right in front of him. Shier panic washed over him. "Y/N," he breathed, stepping towards the front door. "The sounds are illusions", he hissed through gritted teeth. "A trap", Rhys said in disbelief as the same worry coursed through his veins. "Y/n!", a roar slipped past Azriel's lips.

Something felt off, and you could feel it. There were two little people in this camp. No commotion. You couldn't even feel the heartbeats. So what were you slowing down? You looked around, trying to catch the sigh of a single soldier. Your head up to reach for the daggers and do your scope, but there was no one here. A shiver ran down your back. And then the birds fled from the mountains. Rumbling as the snow fell from the top. Whatever caused that to happen...

But you don't get to finish the thought. You heard it before you saw it. You felt it before you could even register what was happening. A painful sob slipped past your lips as an arrow pierced your left wrist. You staggered back. Warm blood trickling down your palm instantly. No, there was no way. You barely lifted your head as another arrow hit your right palm. You let out a cry. Your vision growing hazy. Fear bubbled deep within you. You tried to summon through the pain, but the more you moved your hands, the more blood you were losing.

And then you saw a group of males, all with iron armor. "Fuck", you cursed under your breath, trying to get up and move away. But the arrows must have been dipped in venom. You stumbled, making the males laugh as they slowly inched closer towards you. "Azriel", you muttered quietly. "Azriel, please", your eyes slowly started burning with tears.

"Well, well, well...", one of the males grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the muddy ground towards them. "Two for two, it's my lucky day, boys", the other pulled at your hands, breaking off the tips of the arrows, causing you to scream out in agony. "Please", you pleaded once more.

I'm almost there. Hold on, love. Hold on for me. Azriel's voice filled your head, and you couldn't help but let out a choked-out sob at that. "Why don't we end it once and for all? Pay your daddy an omega", one of the males pulled you up by the hair right as the other threw him a dagger.

"Any last words, princess?", his voice was thick in your ear. But you don't finish. You don't make another move. Reaching deep within yourself, you wrap your hands around the glowing golden thread, caressing it softly one more time before whispering, "I'm sorry". They erupt with laughter; but they don't need to know that those words aren't for them. And then you close your eyes right as the cold blade touches your throat.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part IX (FULL)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER IX WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - language, innuendo / sexual undertones, mention of dr*gs and abuse and childhood trauma, Max in a coma, talks about death, difficult confrontations. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the 9th chapter, written in full. Not action packed, but vital to the plot. Lots of beautiful moments in here that I really took my time with writing because at this point, I am just so in love with this concept. We learn more about Bauman's past. Steve and Jonathan finally have that talk. Murray is a proud uncle. The kids are adorable. Steve's dream isn't only his. And everyone prepares for doomsday.

Bonus: If you love the song "This Little Life," well then you are in for a treat. It heavily inspired this chapter, and it will be back...

PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

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Steve Harrington was no stranger to nightmares.

He’d learned how to endure them.  Over the years, he made friends with his demons.  So much so, it got to a point where he got too used to having them around.  He just nodded at them as they lurked in the darkest corners of his sunshine mind, letting them exist as lonely, miserable wallflowers who were never noticed in the daylight when he was awake…waiting for their fleeting moment of popularity after dark, when his eyes were shut.  He didn’t address them when he was awake. Because if he addressed them, that would mean they were real. But if he let them have their way at night, forgetting them the next day and acting like they did not exist, that meant they had no power over him. They didn’t mean anything. They were nothing. 

They meant nothing.

At least, that’s what Steve told himself. 

Every night before shutting his eyes, he steels himself for whatever hell he was going to face. From the ripe age of four, he learned to simply expect the unexpected when it came to sleeping. Sleep was never going to be his friend — whether he was sleeping alone, or with a friend, or holding naked girl in his arms. Steve was made to suffer in his sleep. His subconscious was a world that was built upon a foundation ruled by the reality of absent parents, being an only child, high school flings that left him longing and the endless search for love. It consisted of repeated dialogues — sometimes the incessant arguing between his parents, or the jabbering of Tommy H. and Carol, or hearing Nancy chanting bullshit, along with all the other voices of people who filtered in and out of his life.  Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.  

Sometimes, Steve was running away from his own voice in his head. There were nights when, within his own nightmares, he himself was the nightmare. That really came into effect during his last year of high school and the summer after he lost Nancy. Adding the entire element of the upside down into his life only fed his nightmares. They were bad before, they were bad then, and they were worse now. 

Trauma after trauma, loss after loss, fight after fight, bloodshed upon bloodshed. 

Every punch to his eye. Every word slapped across his face. Every other worldly creature he was made to battle. Every moment he was paralyzed with fear of losing one of his kids. 

Nightmares loved Steve. And they knew exactly where to find him, every single night.

But right now, sleeping next to you, it wasn’t nighttime. It was still day. Daylight shown through the windows of your assigned guest room in the Harrington house — curtains drawn, and the gloomy afternoon sky filtering the space around you both.

And here he was, fast asleep with his cheek resting on top of your chest, as your heartbeat thumped against his ear. One of his toned arms was looped around your waist, having closed his eyes and letting the steady rise and fall of your chest lull him to sleep. Steve had been fighting sleep for the last two nights. Especially the night after you died in his arms. He had just barely brought you back to life, and he knew that as bad as his nightmares had been before…all of them amounted to nothing compared to the nightmares that would undoubtedly follow him after that. Steve wanted nothing to do with sleep. He was damned for all eternity when it came to sleep, and it was sure to bring him a life of insomnia after the real life nightmare that he was made to face when wide awake. 

That’s the beauty of being asleep: you have to wake up.

Steve told himself that every night before he went to bed. He told himself that no matter how bad it got, he would still wake up. And once he woke up, it would be over.

He learned to do that after he went to the county fair one year with his friends, back in middle school. He’d gotten on a ride, peer pressured by Tommy H. and not wanting to look like a chicken. 

Every second of the ride, Steve was petrified. 

He wanted off, he wanted off, goddammit let me off he shouted.  

Then he remembered having been told by the county fair worker that the ride lasted four minutes.  Steve took a deep breath, realizing he’d likely been on it for already half that time. So he counted to himself. Counting down the last half of the ride, he told himself over and over: eventually, this ride has an end.  

Sure enough, when it did finally come to an end — and when everyone was let off the hellish escapade — Steve realized that he had found the glitch in the matrix. The warp in time. The secret superpower to conquering fear. Suddenly, he wasn’t so afraid anymore. Which is why now, whatever nightmare he was made to face, he would endure it — knowing that the sweet relief of waking up was just right around the corner. 

And after all: stranger things had been proven real in Steve’s real life, far more than in his wildest dreams. 

Loving you had turned out to be the strangest thing of all.  

Even more so, the lack of nightmares that came with that was also strange…

Because right now, as Steve finally succumbed to sleep instead of fighting it, lying next to you…he was not trapped in a nightmare. His subconscious did not have him roaming the unpredictable pathways that led to the darkest corners of his mind. His demons had ceased their dance. Vecna, and all his other worldly monsters, were not the stars of this particular show. Steve was not trapped in the midst of jabbering chants coming from the voices of all the people that he loved, all the people who had betrayed him, or even the voice belonging to himself. 

For the first time in years, Steve Harrington was dreaming.

It wasn’t anything drastic. Nothing that could exhaust him, to where any hours of sleep hadn’t felt like any sort of sleep at all. In fact, his subconscious state was…serene. Quiet, peaceful. It was almost unsettling in a way. 

Little bursts of yellow — pastel and sunshine and lemon — colored the dark walls inside his mind. A light breeze gently wooshed in the distance, coming seemingly from nowhere but still fanning his face and the flop of his perfect hair. Somewhere, someone was humming. Almost like a bird, or the sound of a foghorn super far off in the distance. Maybe even the distant drums of a far away land. The rhythm came and went, but it kept him company. As if it were some little song made up in his head as he went along, saying, “Hey, I’m right here. We are in this together.”

On the other side of Steve’s closed eyelids, you laid beneath him in his yellow crewneck. The air you breathed softly, in and out of your nose, fanned across his forehead and his perfect hair. And while your heartbeat was not even, it was there — beneath his ear, drumming in a makeshift pattern, inventing its own rhythm as it went. 

In the real world, your uneven heartbeat reminded you both that you yourself were not in the clear. Not yet. 

But currently, in this new world that Steve’s subconscious had just discovered, it reminded him that he was no longer alone. Not with you.

In the real world, Hawkins is in trouble. Cursed. 

And while none of you had figured out how to break that curse just yet, along with Vecna’s…one curse had been broken.  

You’d broken the curse to Steve’s endless nightmares.

But would this world even allow for you both to explore a future together, in which you had broken this dark spell cast over Steve Harrington’s life…?

***

Seeing Nancy shuffling out of Argyle’s room is the last thing Jonathan ever could have expected. And he’d seen a lot of shit that prepared him for the unexpected.

The perplexed look in her eyes. The determination in her step to get the hell out of there, despite clearly having been given some sort of useful information after sharing God-knows-what conversation with his Cali best friend. 

The two lovers at war made eye contact. It was quick, fleeting. But tense.  

Eddie and Robin watched as Jonathan turned to stare at Nancy over his shoulder, and how she froze for a moment to stare back at him through her glassy, wide blue eyes. Her gaze, fixed on him, went from longing to hardened. Nancy walked away, and Jonathan letting her without a word only motivated her to keep walking.

And now, Jonathan had been in Argyle’s room for a good long while. Eddie and Robin had left behind their own little comforting conference of sorts to join the adults downstairs, while the kids had set off in other directions of the Harrington house. 

But before that, during all the upstairs drama, Joyce and Murray had been having some drama of their own in the basement.

“You did what?!”

By now, Murray had recounted every single part of his story and how he’d played a huge role — along with you — in how her son had ended up with Nancy Wheeler. Murray’s once upon a time had rendered her speechless. 

Even Hopper — who’d heard them go downstairs and immediately followed when he heard Joyce start rocking the boat as she pressed Murray for information — now stood there beside Joyce, having just listened to everything – stunned.

Because when in the world did you all have time to fall in love, fall out of love then fall back in love / new love like this? How the fuck were you all managing that on top of the upside down mayhem?

“May I remind you both how you two lovebirds have spent the last few years developing your own slowburn of a story arc?” 

Murray’s question was dripping in condescension. But it was valid. It also came from the heart. He loved these two humans to death. And they loved him back.

While Joyce felt an enormous amount of joy that her son had ended up with the girl he loved…her heart ached for Steve. She’d grown to love him like her own over the years, especially these last several months as she lived under his roof. She had no idea just how broken up he’d been about Nancy. Joyce couldn’t help but feel…almost guilty.

But Hopper was shaking his head with a sort of proud grin, noting how as much as Murray had been the one to rock the boat — you had been its captain at the wheel. He pointed out how you had steered that wheel without even trying. 

“Were they even friends in high school?” Hopper asked curiously. “Harrington and Bauman — I can’t see your niece even having time for him back then when he was a punk.”

Murray went on to proudly confirm that assessment, along with explaining how you’d simply participated in your Uncle Murray’s meddling because you happened to be there that night and it’s just a sort of family tradition that you both had formed over the years. And when Joyce asked him how someone like you had not been swept up already by some guy, Murray had scoffed. He looked bitter — in the way that a protective parent is on behalf of their own kid.

“My niece deserves the world. Not one stupid guy at that high school could give her a mere city, let alone a globe’s worth. Doesn’t mean she didn’t…try. I know she was into one guy for a good while at one point. Some friend she’d made with one of the athletes who shared A.P. classes with her. She helped him study. Something she never did, unless it was with the girls and guys from her class that had weekly study group nights. But this kid she liked…he was smart, and he liked her back. She more than liked him…and he let her. Then, as all the petty high school boys do, he ditched her and all her efforts and hours spent studying and helping him pass his classes with flying colors…for a bimbo. A blonde, hip shaking, Pom-pom waving babydoll who’s all body, no brains.”

Joyce frowned. “Bauman is beautiful. She’s body, beauty and brains.”

“Yeah well,” Hopper mumbled, shaking his head disdainfully. “In high school, if you’ve got a dick, we’re letting it do the talking for us.”

“Point is,” Murray continued. “It hurt her. Big time.  But that’s the thing about my niece. Given our Bauman blood, we don’t easily succumb to our sentimental feelings. We just let it broaden our dark comedic chops and cynical worldview. My niece doesn’t have mommy or daddy to run home to and cry. She’s an only child, so no siblings to help care for and bond with. Yeah, she’s got friends. But mainly at school. She’s got herself…and she’s got me.” Murray smiled at that. “Between me and her grandmother, we’ve been the ones that raise her. But to be perfectly honest, my niece pretty much raised herself.”

Hopper’s heart clenched. For both you and your uncle. 

“She’s great, Mur,” Hopper murmured. “You’ve been there for her and it shows.”

Murray was quiet at that. He hated compliments. But he didn’t flinch or get snippy. He actually looked humbled, silently appreciating this observation. 

Joyce sighed. “Murray…you really have been an incredible uncle to her. I know that I’ve…given you a hard time about things, but…really. You’ve never missed with her.”

Murray was still quiet. He looked everywhere but at his two best friends for several beats. Finally, he gave a curt nod. But it was grateful, and full of love. Mainly for you.

“That’s my kid.”

Murray’s voice cracked a bit. It was the most unusual sound in the barren basement of the Harrington house, bouncing off the walls despite its soft decimal in volume. The tight lipped grin on his face as he finally made eye contact with Joyce and Hopper said it all. He loved the shit outta you, like any good parent loves their kid.

“I didn’t get the white picket fence life. Or a lifelong love story with some gal. I got dealt a crazy family of addicts and narcissists and loons. Had a brother who married a gal from rehab, got her pregnant while they relapsed and went forward with having a kid that didn’t stand a damn chance at surviving it.” 

Murray pursed his lips before he continued. “That’s the first goddamn miracle I’ve ever witnessed. That little fetus somehow made it, all of 5 pounds at 9 ounces. Ready to get the fuck out of the womb and live. It made for an early arrival and the risk of being premature, on top of being a crack baby.”

Murray’s eyes shone with a certain kind of fondness. It held both sadness and joy. And his voice was the gentlest it had ever been as he spoke about you.

“She didn’t have one thing wrong with her. Not one thing. Perfect lungs. Perfect heart. Perfect brain activity. Not cursed from the drugs that coursed through her mother’s veins and doomed her life from the start. That kid’s been outsmarting everyone in her life since she was a seed.” 

Joyce and Hopper couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Their eyes shone with Murray’s, having been parents themselves and unable to fathom being so reckless when bringing life into this world.

“I didn’t get my own kid,” Murray continued. He looked at Hopper. “I didn’t get a Sarah.” Then to Joyce, “Or a Jonathan, or Will. A kid who’s my own flesh and blood that I’d fight for to the bitter end.”

Murray stood there, resolute in what he was getting at. “But I got her. I got a niece who loves me. After she was born, I got my dad’s mom to take her in while I traveled and worked. She’s the only family member I’ve bothered keeping in touch with.  She’s an odd one.  But she had a home and money and willingness to take in a stray.  She never thought she’d ever get a granddaughter.  Don’t even think she really wanted one much till she was handed one to take in. Between the two of us, we raised her. She got thrown at whoever would take her and that was fine with me. Meant she still had a damn shot at a life. That’s what we gave her. The rest? She’s done herself.”

Murray sniffed. Then, smirking at himself — 

“I’d like to think my being an unorthodox parental figure of sorts is why she’s built for the war.”

Hopper grinned at that, swallowing back tears of his own. He squeezed Murray’s shoulder. “Yeah, she is. Kid could survive the damn streets of New York on her own.”

Murray laughed at that, and so did Joyce — she finally shook her head and wiped away a couple motherly tears. She took a deep breath, looking up and shifting gears with the topic.

“You know,” she started. “Call me a hopeless romantic… But I’m pretty sure that Steve Harrington has hopelessly fallen for your niece.”

Hopper snorted. “God, I haven’t ever liked the idea of two youngins together the way I like them.”

Murray grinned big. “Yeah that’s a plot twist even I wasn’t expecting.”  

The cynical gent’s expression suddenly went from warm to grave.  “…don’t ever repeat that.”

The adults all shared a heart laugh at that, making their own comments on how the two mortal enemies turned out to be lovers. Hopper cringed at the word, along with Murray — and Joyce gave your uncle hell for that, given he’s the self-acclaimed mastermind at love. 

“My witch doctor hours are limited when it comes to my niece’s love life,” he argued, but it was all with humor and fondness. “I already orchestrated the basics.”

“Which were…?”

“Calling her out.”

Joyce smiled. “What do you think of them?”

Murray’s expression softened. He contemplated that for several sincere moments. 

“Surprises me to say it…but I think she’s got someone who loves her fully. Will love her fully. There’s actual years there, backing them up. Years of real life shit. Abnormal shit. Valid tension, deeply rooted hatred that turned out to be love. She saw Harrington for who he was, and sees him for who he is. I mean — Jesus, she was there for all of it. Steve Harrington’s redemption arc was witnessed by her just as much as those kids that he’s taken on as a babysitter. Well, and the Robin girl. But that’s…not the same thing as what he’s got with my niece.  No threat there.”

Hopper’s eyes narrowed at that, curious. But Joyce gave Murray an all-knowing grin, knowing what he was getting at.

“I don’t think she’s on the same field,” she winked.

Murray winked back. “Exactly.”

Hopper blinked. “…alright, you guys lost me.”

Joyce waved him off, continuing. “So you like him with her. Maybe even…approve?”

Murray slowly nodded. “Didn’t think there’d be a guy who stood a chance at that. But given the whole…letting us all stay here and saving her life thing…yeah. I’d say I’m very good with those two being together.”

Joyce nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe you should tell him that. Y’know…given you’re at fault for ‘ruining his life,’ too.”

Murray rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, those two never stood a chance with your broody son standing in the way of that.”

“Yeah well…that broody son of mine isn’t making much sense right now,” Joyce shook her head. She sighed, worried. Hopper stroked her back. “I need to talk to him.”

“Lover’s quarrel,” Murray pointed out. “Best let that be up to him and Wheeler.”

“Yeahhh, well,” Hopper sighed. “Emotions are high right now. Maybe a little adult intervention would be good for them.”

Murray patted them both on the shoulders, back to his usual self. “WELP! You two have a large time with that. Meanwhile, I’ve got a date with a second drink calling my name.”

***

You watched Steve sleep on top of your chest, thinking about the words he’d spoken to you before dozing off. 

“What about France? Or Switzerland, somewhere with a bunch of acres and nature and a lake nearby or something?”

You’d smiled at Steve’s question. “How would we get the Winnebago over there?”

He’d stared at you for a moment, eyes sparkling as your words landed. A deep grin formed on his face. 

“You really liked my little dream on wheels, huh?”

You grinned back. “Yeah. It’s not little. It’s big.”

He shrugged sweetly. “I mean, it’s not a mansion. Or a house. It’s a home on wheels. Honestly, a really small home on wheels, but…I dunno, I just — wanna travel. With my family. Not leave them behind at some big house while I go off and explore god knows where without ‘em.”

You played with his fingers, listening to his every word. He wasn’t used to this. Having someone who was happy to just…listen to him ramble. Was he even one to ramble at all? Or is that something you just brought out in him?

“I just dream of this…this little life of sorts,” he continued, speaking to you and also to himself. 

You smiled at his words. “I think I like this little life.”

Steve could sing at your response. Something about that one sentence after he’d just further divulged into what a bright future looked like in his mind made him feel on top of the world. The lovesick joy in his eyes, and in his heart, made you melt.

 “I only want that little life with you,” he whispered to you, cupping your neck as he bent down to press his forehead to yours. You loved when he did that. Too much, way too much.

You nuzzled your nose to his. Steve loved when you did that. Too much, way too much.

“And the nuggets,” you whispered back with the cutest grin. Then, daring to say it — “Our nuggets…”

Steve’s heart soared at that.  Ours…

The happy little laugh Steve breathed against you was the prettiest sound in the entire fucking universe. He caught your lips in a kiss, sweet and soft and firm.

“Your heart needs to get its shit together,” he breathed before kissing you again.

“I know, I know,” you breathed back with that playful attitude he had come to love, gliding your lips against his. “Such a pain in the ass. I know you wanna rail me, Harrington.”

He deepened the kissing, his fingers sliding up from your neck into your hair. “Yeah, god forbid I actually just want you to be okay. I only wanna fuck you senseless.”

You sighed into his mouth, clutching his hips with one of your hands and a fistful of his shirt with the other. “Yeah, you dirty, filthy asshole…”

He sucked on your tongue, cutting you off. “Be nice, princess.”

The two of you had eventually pulled back, knowing that you needed to wait on Dr. Owen’s to bring you whatever goddamn medicine was supposed to help even out your heart arrhythmia. Steve had moved in your arms to rest his head over your heart, cheek pressed to your chest with your heartbeat in his eardrum. You could feel him shaking. So, you made up a little tune as you felt fatigue taking over you.

“I think I like this little life…

This little life…

I think I like this little life…

This silly little life.”

You could tell it made Steve smile as he held you closer. He murmured something sweet to you about liking the improvised melody, to which you murmured something back about it becoming a hit one day. Steve let your soft spoken singing play in his mind, giving him the sweetest of dreams as your voice trailed off.

And now, you were awake — humming it again. Steve was still fast asleep on your chest, which brought you tremendous relief. You dared to think it might be the only medicine your heart really needed. 

There was a soft knock at the door. You craned your neck towards the source of the sound, curious. Steve didn’t move a bit. He was out. It made you grin. You sighed lightly, planting a soft kiss on top of Steve’s perfect hair. Slowly, gently — you found a way of standing up without waking him. Little did you know, the sleep he found in your arms couldn’t be bothered easily. He slept harder with you than he ever had in his life.

You padded over quietly to the door, opening it slowly and only enough to show you. Your uneven heart was flooded with warmth as you stared back at 5 familiar faces.

Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will and Eleven all stood there. They held random things. Board games, snacks, and pillows with blankets.

“We are inviting ourselves for a sleepover,” El said.

“A very unexciting one,” Lucas clarified.

“Yes, no excitement,” Dustin agreed.

“Just some good ole fashioned card games that don’t hit pique anxiety,” Mike added.

“Annnnd drawing,” Will threw in, lifting his bag. “Art is always therapeutic.  Good for the soul.  And the heart.”

You felt yourself getting teared up, looking at their faces with pure love and joy. You chuckled wetly, your chest clenching as you so sorely wished that the sixth nugget was awake to add her sarcasm and unwavering love to the mix.

“Plus it really sucks about the mandate coming soon,” Lucas added sadly.

“Yeah,” Mike nodded. “Before we know it, we’ll all be cramped downstairs in the basement or out there in the middle of nowhere.”

You gave them a sad smile.

“A not-exciting sleepover sounds like a grand plan,” you nodded with a wink. Then, cocking an eyebrow, “So I’m hosting then, huh?”

“Yeah, your room’s bigger than ours,” Dustin said.

“True,” you winked. “Orrrr, we could go over to Max’s room and have her join us?”

All of them nodded excitedly. You smiled, turning back to look at Steve sleeping peacefully in the bed. 

“Gimme a few minutes to wake up mom and tell him that Max needs some attending to first, so that we can successfully host a sleepover in her room.”

They all quietly cheered, carefully moving to set down their array of stuff inside of your room. They caught sight of Steve sleeping, snickering to themselves like they were all 8 years old again. You shook your head at them with the biggest grin on your face, adoring how Lucas and Dustin were just so tickled with Steve being in your room. Will and El were giggling into their palms, with Mike shushing them but snorting himself. That made everyone fight back even worse laughter, and you ushered them out quickly before closing the door behind you. Man, you loved these kids so much.

You went into the bathroom, freshening up a bit and turning on the shower to let some hot steam hit your aching shoulder for a bit.

he sound of Steve murmuring your name made you hold off on that. 

You walked out, beaming at him as he stared in your direction while sitting up. You were back in his arms in seconds, mumbling into his neck.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Jesus, how long was I out?”

“A good chunk of hours.”

Steve groaned, pulling you impossibly closer to him — still mindful of your bad shoulder. You giggled in his grasp. His ears perked up, craning his head up towards the bathroom door as he heard the stream of water running.

“How dare you think of showering without me?” he scoffs incredulously in your arms.

You continued giggling harder as Steve nuzzled his face into your neck, pretending to attack you as he smothered you with groggy affection. 

“Just needed to relieve my handicap a bit,” you sighed contentedly.

With that, Steve rose to stand. He was scooping you up into his arms before you could blink, carrying you into the bathroom. He lifted your shirt off, then his. As you stripped your pants, be took the hair tie from your wrist and ran his fingers through your locks, tying it up with ease. With a kiss pressed to your neck, he took your hand and escorted you into the hot stream of water. You watched Steve wistfully as he shed his pants and joined you.

As Steve gingerly massaged the soap into your shoulder blade, you remembered you needed to tell him about the plans that had been made for you both that evening.

“Baby?”

He hummed in response, loving when you called him that.

“The kids have the evening cut out for us tonight,” you started.

Even with your back to him, you knew his eyebrows were raised. “Oh yeah? What, am I making some crazy dinner feast out of canned goods now?”

You sniffed a laugh, turning to kiss his jaw. “No, we’re on for a sleepover in Max’s room.”

“S’that so?” he mulled, a grin in his voice.

“‘Tis so. That, or in here. But I don’t know if we can move her. Plus, I really want her to hear us all talking as much as possible.”

He exhaled, a kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Alright well, I’ll need to go ahead and get her taken care of before we all take over the room.”

“Sounds good,” you sighed contentedly.

You both finished up, and as you got changed into fresh comfy clothes Steve was eyeing the pile of stuff that the kids had unloaded into your bedroom.

“Damn, they just decided to dump the haul here?” he asked.

You snorted. “Yeahhh, they like to make themselves at home here.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but the fondness behind them said it all. He loved it.  

Noticing you struggle with your shirt, he quickly moved to help you pull it over your bad shoulder carefully. 

“Need to get better at asking for help, angel,” he winked at you, pulling your arm carefully through the sleeve. 

You blushed at that, playfully rolling your eyes. “Noted.”

Steve shook his head as he made sure that your shirt was straight, lost in thought for a moment. “Guess we all won’t be able to hang out up here soon,” he murmured.  “Outside of the basement.”

Your heart sank, knowing he was referring to the impending doom that loomed around the corner with the whole mandate going into effect next week. “Yeah,” you mused. “Might as well make the most of tonight with them before we have to go back to doomsday mode.”

He nodded sadly, planting a kiss to your hair before grabbing your discarded clothes along with his to start a fresh load of laundry. 

“I’m gonna go start a load,” he said. “Check with Hopper on when Dr. Owen’s is getting back here with your meds.”

You sighed. “Yeah, those…”

Steve looked at you solemnly. “Hey.”

You gnawed at your lip, looking up at him.

“You will be okay,” he told you. His tone was firm yet soft. Confident, despite the worried undertone laced around his voice.

You gave him a light smile and nod. 

“I’m serious, Bauman,” Steve continued, his brown eyes boring into yours. “We’re getting you on these meds and if they don’t work, then we…do the next thing that does.”

You knew he was stressed. Too stressed. You hated seeing just how fearful he’d been when he lost you before, and how much the fear of losing you again was eating away at him. Of course, Steve being Steve, he now insisted it would be fine. He’d broken down in front of you when it all happened, unable to stop it. Normally, he’d never let that happen. But given the dark reality of things, and just how much everything else had caught up to him, he wasn’t able to be his usual positive, nonchalant self with you over the last 24 hours.

With a mischievous look in your eye, you patted your chest. You gave it a little knocking rhythm, beatboxing under your breath so that he’d laugh. After a moment of Steve glaring at you, the corner of his lips finally twitched up into a grin. He tried to hide it, but you’d already seen it before he could turn away.

“Don’t worry, Harrington,” you told him. “I’m not even close to being done bothering you.”

He turned to look back at you longingly, a smile ghosting behind the way he bit his lip. He nodded. 

“Don’t think that ever really had an expiration date, did it?” he asks, teasing you in his husky voice that you loved whenever he was getting coy with you.

You smirked. “Never.”

He took a moment to soak you in with his eyes. “Good,” he said.  “I’m keeping it that way.”

You knew what he meant. Don’t you dare fucking leave me again. 

And you had every intention of keeping your word. I’m here as long as you’ll have me.

Steve intended to keep you forever.

“Now,” you said, moving towards him. “Let’s go have a big ole sleepover with these six nuggets so that we can stop the end of the world and have another six later on down the road, yeah?”

Steve glowed. He stuttered a bit, unable to breathe. “Y-you really want that? S-six of ‘em…?”

You shook your head, smiling up at him as you stood toe to toe. “Hell yeah, I want that.”

You kissed his jaw. Then, moving to scoop up a bag of the kids snacks — “That’s more buckets of Halloween candy for us down the line.”

Steve smiled and blushed unabashedly, shaking his head with the happiest eye roll you’d ever seen. 

“So we’re gonna be that family, huh?” he asked, moving to grab a sour gummy from the bag you’d just opened.

“We will win every costume contest, Harrington,” you said seriously, that signature dry humor of yours coursing through your Bauman blood at full speed. “I’m very competitive. Don't worry, the kids will be too busy having a great time to know that their mom is secretly a little psycho.”

Steve tugged at the gummy worm between his teeth with the most mischievous, flirty glint in his eye. You could smell his perfect skin mixed with the scent of the raspberry candy.  “Ahh, so you are mom. Thought I was mom.”

You leaned up on your toes, inching your lips towards his where he still dangled the gummy worm. “In this era? You’re mom. I’m dad. Next one, I’ll be Mommy.”

You bit at the end of the gummy worm, going full lady and the tramp with it like a loose spaghetti noodle. Steve’s lips and teeth stretched into a wide grin, eyes swimming in sex and lust as they looked down at you. You both bit and sucked the gummy worm till your teeth and tongues met. In the lowest, sexiest of husky tones, Steve told you…

“Well in this one? I’m daddy.” 

His tongue lapped your mouth, tasting like sugar sweet candy. “Your daddy.”

Before you could completely dissolve into a hot mess of a puddle, familiar voices from the other side of the door sounded off.

“EEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!!”

“STEEEEEEVE!”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god —”

The sound of all your kids gagging and losing their shit were making for an orchestra of triggered teens, and you both jumped at the noise. After gasping, Steve threw his head back and huffed incredulously.

“Seriously??” he snapped. 

You buried your face in your hands, unable to keep yourself from laughing in pure humiliation — but also in adoration.

“You shitheads are listening in, seriously — Jesus.” 

Steve huffed and puffed, but it was clear as day he loved it. You did, too. He moved to open it while you stood back, snickering into your palms with flaming hot flushed cheeks.

“Hello,” he said, voice flat.

“You’re disgusting,” Dustin scoffed.

“And you’re an eavesdropping ass hat.”

“Why do you smell like gummy worms?” Mike asked suspiciously.

“Because you left them in my room, Wheeler,” Steve said wryly.

“Yeah, for tonight!!! For all of us!” Lucas scolded.

“Well Sinclair? Maybe don’t leave your candy unattended in my room.”

“It’s Bauman’s room!” Mike said.

Steve opened his mouth, then shut it. “Right yeah, well. My house, but yeah.”

“Lord, I can’t unhear this,” Will grimaced, but even he was grinning.

“You weren’t supposed to hear it at all,” Steve pointed out defensively.

“If you’re gonna fuck around, you’re gonna find out.”

Eddie’s sing-songy voice was new to the mix as he walked past them all, carrying a bunch of things as he made his way downstairs. “Howdy folks, don’t mind me.”

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at him as he looked back at his kids. “That. What he said.”

El looked at everyone curiously.  “What does being daddy mean if Steve is that for Bauman —”

Everyone cut her off with sounds of disdain.

“Noooope! Nope, nope nope nope.”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

“La la la la la la la la not talking about this la la la la.”

“Alright, enough,” Mama Steve silenced the kiddos. “Move along.”

“No, we’ve been waiting for 30 minutes,” Mike griped.

“It’s okay,” came your voice as you emerged from the room, standing next to Steve. “Why don’t you kids come on inside while Steve gets Max’s room ready?”

They all took you up on that offer, shuffling past you both and making their way inside. Steve shook his head as you grinned, pinching his side.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be grown up and outta the house before you know it.”

You winked at him before making your way into the room with them. Steve watched you fondly, hands on his hips in true Mom Steve Harrington fashion. He had that signature sexy-sassy look on his face that everyone had come to love over the years — you especially. Despite being annoyed, Steve felt his heart fill to the brim as he watched the kids scatter the bags of candy and show you the card game selections. You were hugging El closely while Dustin pointed out that he had plenty more candy hidden in his backpack. Will was telling you about his newest art collection ideas, and you excitedly listened to him while Mike and Lucas bickered about which games were better for everyone.

“Steve, you’re joining us, right?” Dustin asked.

Steve scrunched his face in confusion, doubling back with his shoulders. “Yeah, wasn’t that already happening?”

Dustin shrugged. “Just making sure you’re not gonna be lame.”

Steve shook his head. You looked over at him as you smiled.

“F’course he’s joining,” you winked. “It’s not a party without mom.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at you playfully, making your shoulders shake with a chuckle. 

He felt more at home in his own house than he ever had in 19 years. 

__________________________

Jonathan watched Steve make his way into Max’s room, knee bouncing.

He was seated in the living room, next to Joyce. She’d cornered him earlier, after watching Nancy move to sit on the porch alone and stare at nothing as she sat on the steps. Robin had moved to join her eventually, giving her company and offering to lend an ear.

That sprang Joyce into action, and she found Jonathan standing outside of Argyle’s room with Will. She’d found them both talking, happy to see her boys were in deep conversation and bonding. She could tell they’d been doing that for a little while now, and when they both looked up at her the three Byers all shared warm, solemn smiles. The boys looked a bit sheepish. Mostly the oldest.

Jonathan knew his mom wasn’t gonna let him off the hook. And if he was being honest, a good honest talk with his mother about something not having to do with the upside down was something he’d needed for a long time.

So they talked. Joyce listened while Jonathan spoke, and he listened while she responded. It was the perfect blend of expressed empathy, disappointment and motherly advice shared on her end. He admitted to the fight with Steve in the alleyway, back when Will was missing. And he admitted to making a move on Nancy while she was still in a relationship with Steve. She brought up Murray telling her about him getting drunk at the Henderson’s house, 2 years back…and he shamefully ducked his head as he wrung his hands. But Joyce just rubbed his back, reminding him she wasn’t here to berate him and only to talk through things the way they always have: as mother and son.

“You know, Jonathan…” Joyce spoke softly, her heart heavy. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for everything that you did in helping me find Will.”

Jonathan did a double take, brow furrowed. “What’re you talking about, of course you did —”

“No,” Joyce shook her head. “No, we talked about it, sure. I verbally thanked you.”

“Many times, mom,” Jonathan assured her.

“Just listen,” she cut him off gently, clutching his hand. “I lost a son…but you’d lost a brother. We both lost him. Twice. God, twice… and each time was a brand new hell. We didn’t even have time to process the first round.”

Jonathan chuckled darkly. “Would we ever have processed that? I mean really…”

Joyce grinned at that. “Psh, yeah. Doubt it.” Looking back at him with a softened expression, she continued. “Point is…in the midst of all that stress, and searching, and worrying…you were still going through so much. Not just with Will missing…but everything else, too.”

Jonathan listened to his mother as she looked deeply into his eyes, clutching both his hands. She went on to tell her eldest son every validating thing a mother could tell her child. She recounted every single thing that Jonathan had been dealing with outside of Will going missing, and it hurt her to relive it all just as much as it hurt Jonathan to hear it all over again. When Joyce got to the part where she’d had to make them all move, Jonathan’s eyes watered up. 

“You and Nancy were just beginning to dive into things deeply,” she was saying. “Really, you’d both gone through so much together and finally you both got to just…start being a couple, and then it all went wrong again, so that — that forced you both back into the upside down bullshit…”

“Mom,” Jonathan said, a bit shocked.

“I’m serious,” Joyce said back, eyes fierce and full of love. “Jonathan, you’ve had to be an adult since you were just a kid. Since you were Will’s age. And then you finally get into a relationship with a beautiful girl, and immediately you’re thrown into war. Not even able to enjoy your teens going into adulthood. Even Nancy, she…she’s been through so much with you. And now…”

Joyce’s voice trailed off. She sighed, exasperated with herself. She re-centered, turning back to her son.

“I love you,” she told him, eyes full of love. “So much, you just don’t know. You are just…a good person. And the fact you feel overcome with guilt as though you’re not —“

“I haven’t been a good person, mom,” Jonathan murmured, voice wobbly.

“Jonathan,” Joyce whispered, squeezing his hands. “Just because you’ve not acted right in certain ways…that does not make you a bad person. Do you understand that? Because if not — then whoever’s telling you that…whether it’s someone you love, or a stranger, or yourself…stop listening. Seek within. Listen to your heart, because it’s never going to steer you wrong. And no, that’s not just some dumb cliche saying, it’s true. Your mind will confuse you, and your soul will get shaken. But your heart? It will always lead you back.”

Jonathan’s lip trembled, and Joyce held him tight as he shook him her arms. He clung to his mother, overwhelmed.

“I’m afraid I’ll never say enough, mom,” he wept into her shoulder. “To Steve, or to Nancy… I’m actually more sure about what I need to say to him instead of her.”

Joyce chuckled early, squeezing him tighter. “Aw, baby… Don’t overthink. Say whatever is going to give your heart peace. You’ll regret anything you never said far more than anything that you did.”

***

“Trust me kid, I’m in the doghouse now for the hell I raised on the phone with him.”

Hopper stood in front of Steve, along with Murray. They’d just spoken with Dr. Owens on the phone, who’d told Murray that he wouldn’t be able to bring them the medication until tomorrow morning. Murray had managed to remain calmer than Hopper, to both their surprise.  Now, they stood in the kitchen with Steve – filling him in.

Steve took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling just as deeply out his mouth like a puff of air he’d been holding while running a hand through his hair. Murray looked at him with a somber, empathic expression. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not just as furious about it,” Murray pointed out. “But given the whole…having a target on his back thing…I’m trying to have some sort of grace about it, mostly for her sake. And yours.”

That made Steve look over at him gratefully. He couldn’t imagine the stress your uncle was experiencing, knowing your heart — literally — was on the line.

“Says he’ll be here with it as early as he can be,” Murray added. “Just keep doing what you’re already doing. Which is the most.” His lips turned upwards at one of the corners. “The most, and then some.”

Steve allowed himself to give your uncle a sad smile back, appreciating being seen by him. He’s all that you had as far as family goes. With a nod, Steve let that news settle into his brain. He reached out to shake Murray’s hand, who shook it back firmly and dared to pat his shoulder. Physical affection was so not his thing. But he’d make an effort for the guy his niece was in love with, and who not only saved her life — but was still doing everything he could to keep it intact. 

“Kids sleepover, huh?”

Hopper changed the subject, grinning at Harrington — who chuckled lightly.

“You guys know about this?”

Hopper shrugged. “We might’ve told them to allow themselves some fun for one night, before we all go into lockdown…” His expression turned grim, a thought pushing its way to the forefront of his brain. “And whatever plan needs to go into action.”

Steve knew what he meant. Getting back out there. He swallowed hard, giving him a quick nod. No one was ready for this. But were they ever really “ready” for any of this?

Murray and Hopper told Steve to not give any thought whatsoever to anything relating to doomsday until the next morning. They insisted that they just take the focus on laughing and soaking up the night with you and the kids. Steve was surprised at how certain they both were about it, but despite it being out of character for them in an endearing way…it scared him. It meant that they knew just how much everyone here was at risk. It made a sharp chill run up Steve’s spine.

Eventually, Steve had made his way up to Max’s room. He was sorting through it, making room for you all to camp out there. El had already turned her little cot bed into a floor couch of sorts, which made Steve grin. 

He talked to Max out loud as he checked her vitals. Lucas already had, along with Joyce and Hopper. Still, he always wanted to make sure. 

“Not sure if this is gonna be one of those nights where I’ve gotta make Dustin cut the attitude during games,” Steve was telling her with a smirk as he straightened her pillows. “Honestly, it’s probably an excuse for Mike and El to be able to cuddle at night. So I’ll likely be chaperoning the entire night. Good thing I got mad good sleep with Bauman today.”

Steve moved to close the curtains, watching the sun begin to set behind the trees in the distance. It looked dull, given all the debris and toxic air.

“You know what’s crazy?” he asked her.  “Ever since I started sleeping with her — like actually sleeping, head outta the gutter Max — it’s…I haven’t had a single nightmare. I always have those.”

He moved to discard some of the kids’ loose candy wrapped and one of Dustin’s empty pudding containers, glancing over at her sleeping form.

“Seriously, it’s weird. It’s like she just…makes them all disappear.” Steve scoffed a laugh at that. “Who’d have thought… She’s been a nightmare to me, and now I can’t…can’t even stand to think back on the times I never saw her like I do now.”

Steve looked around the room, seeing it was good for the night. It would be a tight squeeze — but having shuffled Max’s bed over enough so that they all had room to play games and draw on the floor with snacks, it would do. He sighed, taking a second to sit on the edge of the bed near her feet.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” he murmured. “Tonight.  Hearing all our voices at once. Arguing and bickering and laughing the way you all do together.” 

Steve poked her knee. “Think that’ll kick start you again, red? Wake you back up so that you can give us all shit?”

Her silence isn’t as long as he expects it to be whenever he hears a knock. Steve looks over to the open doorway, finding Jonathan standing there. He looks…wary. Rough, and timid. Standing awkwardly with his hands buried deeply in his pockets, he shoots Steve a very quick, uncomfortable right-lipped grin.

“Hey.”

Steve blinks. “Hey.”

Jonathan rocks on his feet for a moment. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in?”

Steve blinks again, but eventually nods. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, yeah.”

Jonathan moves to lean against the wall, next to the doorway. Steve would laugh at the fact that this is Byers’ way of “coming in,” if it weren’t for the fact that he was so clearly nervous about something. Steve had a few guesses as to why he was here. He knew this had been coming, and he wishes he’d been the one to initiate it. Because they really needed to talk.

They’d needed to talk for 3 years.

“Look, Byers,” Steve started after waiting for what felt like a century for Jonathan to say something. “I owe you an apology…”

“No,” Jonathan cut him off. 

It made Steve look at him in surprise. But Jonathan continued before he could say anything else.

“No, it’s me who owes you an apology.”

Steve stared. “…what?”

Jonathan sighed, scratching his neck and praying the words could find him as he finally dove into what he needed to let off his chest.

“Look I’m not good at this,” Jonathan said. “Talking, I mean. You know I’m weird.” 

He gnawed at his lip, pensive and twitchy. He looked down at his feet a lot, feeling tense under Harrington’s gaze. But he sucked in a deep breath, going for it. 

“Back in 1982, you had every right to break my camera.”

Steve froze. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah. Yeah you did. I shouldn’t have been spying on you guys like that. ‘Cause even though I was looking for my brother, it…it turned into me just…following the sound of you all partying and watching from afar. So I mean, technically…”  Jonathan chuckled under his breath darkly. “Technically, I was being a stalker.”

He looked up at Steve finally, finding him looking at him in pure shock. 

“You were dating Nancy,” Jonathan continued. “And I took…really inappropriate pictures of her. In a moment when you both were having…or well, thought you were having a private moment together. That wasn’t alright. And if…if someone had done that to me and my girlfriend, I would’ve…probably done the same thing. And honestly, you getting mad at me in the alleyway that morning —”

“Dude, no,” Steve shook his head. “Don’t take the blame for that. That was all me. It was shitty, what I did to Nancy. And what I said to you.”

“Yeah it was, but you found me in your girlfriend’s room, Steve,” Jonathan told him. “I was in there with her, in her bed, sleeping next to her when she told you that she was with her family. It looked…fucked up.”

Steve was just staring again. How in the hell was this happening right now? And why had he himself never made it happen sooner?

“So you chewed me out,” Jonathan shrugged. “And no, you shouldn’t have publicly humiliated Nancy like that at all…”

“I kick myself for it every day,” Steve murmured. “Trust me…”

“I know,” Jonathan told him, voice softer. “I know that now. I’ve…known you have for a long time. Nancy told me. I know you apologized over and over.” He took a moment, going back. “But what you said to me was just…your way of saying fuck you. You felt used, tricked and stupid. After you’d protected Nancy from a guy who’d proven himself to be a creepy stalker, and it looked like she slept with him. So you lashed out. Like any teen guy would.”

“I called you a queer,” Steve says incredulously, cringing at the memory. “I even went as far as saying you were the reason for Will going missing, along with your mom. It was low, Jonathan. What I said and did was just — flat out low. No excuses. None. I’m the one in the wrong.”

“Steve, we both were.”

Jonathan’s voice finally finds confidence. It makes Steve look at him in another light, as if he’s truly seeing Byers for the strong-willed young man that he is. It occurs to him now that maybe Jonathan has been going through some soul searching of his own, just as he had over the last few years. Clearly, he still was.  Both of them were.

“We were barely 17 years old, and stupid,” Jonathan kept going. “We — we didn’t know how the hell to deal with anything. Much less a missing kid, or a guy related to that kid who’d taken creepy photos. We both were idiots.”

Steve let that land. And it actually made him laugh, sheepishly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly, scratching his neck. “Yeah, I guess we were.”

Jonathan laughed too. It was still tense, a bit awkward. But it was becoming lighter. For both of them.

“Shit, Byers,” Steve shook his head. “Have we both been feeling awful about this for years and just… not saying something about it until now?”

Jonathan sighed. “Sounds like it.”

They were both quiet for a moment, letting this newfound revelation settle into existence.

“Thanks for the new camera, by the way,” Jonathan added. “I know that was you.”

Steve looked back up at him, finding kindness and sincere gratitude in Jonathan’s eyes. It made him feel shy. Worse, yet better at the same time.

“Least I could do,” Steve shrugged.

Jonathan sniffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… You didn’t take the credit for it. You let Nancy do that.”

Jonathan pursed his lips, brow pinching as he shifted against the wall and stared down at his feet again. Steve waited as he watched him curiously.

“You extended way more kindness to me than I did you,” Jonathan said softly. So softly, it made Steve wonder if it was actually what he said.

“I shouldn’t have pined after Nancy,” Jonathan said. “I should’ve asked her out. Like actually asked her out, while she was single again. Before you two got back together.”

Steve felt his stomach jump. This was…a lot. So much was being covered right now in this conversation.

“But instead, I just sulked and pretended I still wasn’t in her thoughts at all. Even though I knew that…that she liked me. But I also knew that she liked you. So I just… I convinced myself it wasn’t ever gonna happen. Because that was safer. And hating you made it easier to do that.”

Jonathan looked ashamed of everything that he was saying now, but certain about it. Steve just listened, not daring to interrupt him.

“I might not have cheated with Nancy the first time you both dated…but I did the second time. And that’s not… that’s not right.” Jonathan sighed, taking a breath. “But I was a coward. Maybe not when it came to the upside down and finding Will, but up here? In regular real life? I am. I’m a coward. I don’t say whatever it is that I’m actually feeling or thinking, or wanna say. I just…wait for circumstances to make it happen for me. You don’t do that. You just…go for it.”

Steve scoffed. “Trust me, I’m…I’ve been a coward for years. In many ways, many times, for many reasons.”

“Yeah, well…you still didn’t steal someone else’s girlfriend instead of actually making a move. And I’m really…really sorry about that, Steve. I’m sorry I swooped in like that, and then…drunkenly bragged about it to Bauman Squared while you were in earshot. It made you take it out on her, when she didn’t deserve that. I did. All she did was call me out on it with Murray. They both had no idea it would turn into this.”

That made Steve squirm. He thought about how he’d been pining after Nancy still, even when she was with Jonathan. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to let that off his chest too.

“Look,” Steve started warily. “Honestly, I really appreciate everything you’re saying. And really — apology accepted. Completely.”

Jonathan could tell that Steve meant it, and he visibly relaxed some once he let that settle into his bones. He released a breath of air that he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.

Meanwhile, Steve was holding his own.

“And you’re right,” Steve continued. “What I did to Bauman? Taking it out on her like that was…well it was projection. Cowardly projection. Instead of taking it out on you and Nancy, I took it out on someone else. Because that was easier. Because it meant that I still got to be the unsung hero in Nancy’s life, and a bigger person than you.”

Jonathan stared at him now, surprised to hear this. He wasn’t expecting his confessed guilt to lead to Steve admitting guilt of his own.

“I’ll probably be telling Bauman I’m sorry for as long as I live,” Steve continued, voice solemn. Honestly I feel…shitty beyond belief, knowing that I could’ve been kinder to her all this time…maybe even spared myself way more heartbreak...if I’d just gotten mad at you guys instead of her. Because then, I might’ve gotten close with her and discovered feelings for her before this all went down.”

“Maybe,” Jonathan pondered, nodding. “Then again… I don’t think you’d have fallen for her nearly as hard if it hadn’t been for you giving her shit for it.”

They both awkwardly chuckle at that. But it makes them both sad to think about it. How you’d taken the brunt of it all.

“Fuck, she didn’t deserve that,” Jonathan huffs. “And I’m — I’m the one who caused it.”

“No,” Steve shook his head, eyes sad and dark as they swam in regret. “No, that was all me. I was an asshole. And truthfully, I was still so hung up on Nance that I didn’t know how to even remotely look at another girl. Let alone one I convinced myself was responsible for taking that away from me, knowing damn well that it wasn’t. Nance wanted you, and you wanted her. Plain and simple.”

Jonathan looked ashamed all over again, but Steve held up a hand. 

“Trust me,” Steve assured him. “She wasn’t mine to keep. I get that now.”

Jonathan slowly smiled at that. “You love her, don’t you?”

Steve knew who he meant. You. 

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah, I…don’t even know what to do with it.”

Steve stared into thin air, lost in thought. Jonathan didn’t push him, just watching him and waiting for him to go on.

“I just…look back on it all and wonder how. How did I not see her in high school, or…see during the summer of ‘84 that she was clearly perfect?”

“It takes time,” Jonathan said softly. “Shit doesn’t always hit you right away. I know that better than you’d think.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Yeah. Yeah no, you’re not wrong. I just… I dunno. I guess I’m just…”

He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to get this over with.

“I was still hung up on Nance while you were in California,” he continued, making eye contact with Jonathan again. “So much so that…I told her I was. And I’d…hoped to get her back. I wanted to steal her back from you.”

Jonathan sighed, giving him a small smile.

“I know,” he said. “She told me.”

Steve stared. Oh.

“Believe it or not,” Jonathan continued. “I’m not…mad about that at all.”

Steve blinked.  “…why…?”

Jonathan chuckled. “Steve, I actually stole your girlfriend. I had it coming.”

After several more blinks, Steve coughed out a laugh. Was he serious? As Jonathan laughed with him, he realized that he truly meant it. He wasn’t mad.

“Sorry man, but I won that round,” Jonathan chuckled.

“Fair,” Steve chuckled back. “Good game, man.”

Jonathan nodded awkwardly, shuffling his feet. “Yeahhh, good game…”

They took a few moments of silence, letting the tension wear off some more. It was…nice. This weird sort of talk was nice.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Steve continued. “I’m sorry, too. For going after Nance again, and not just… facing you both sooner.”

“S'alright,” Jonathan told him. “I’ve honestly been a really shitty boyfriend these last several months.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Long story,” Jonathan waved a hand. “That’s my own wrong that I gotta make right with Nancy.”

Steve contemplated that. Had whatever was going south between Jonathan and Nancy, unbeknownst to him, been the reason she’d seemed to be interested in him again? Or was that just the tipping point for her, and her buried lingering feelings for Steve?

Regardless, it didn’t matter now. Steve was so in love with you, he couldn’t see straight. But it did make him wonder.

“And honestly, I don’t blame you,” Jonathan said, smiling. “Nancy, she’s…perfect.”

Steve smiled at him. “She’s pretty wonderful,” Steve agreed. “I’ll always adore her. But…”

“…but you found your person,” Jonathan finished for him. “Your ‘perfect’ person.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. She makes everything make sense for me, and I just…god, I love her.”

Jonathan nodded, still smiling. “I know how you feel.”

Steve fiddled his thumbs in his lap, staring down at them and feeling his stomach knot up. There was another thing he needed to own up to…

“Jonathan, what I said to you…” Steve murmured, eyes still downcast. “Yesterday, back at the fence…when Bauman…” Steve winced, skipping that part.  “...it wasn’t at all —”

“I deserved it.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that, will you let me feel bad for at least one thing I’m saying?”

“No, and especially not this one.”

Steve sighed, perplexed. “…and why is that?”

“Because I deserved it.”

Jonathan watched as Steve just gaped at him, biting back amusement. He let the sincerity of the serious topic ground him again.

“You all searched and fought relentlessly for me and my mom when this all started,” Jonathan went on to say.

“...I so did not do anything from the start.”

“Maybe you don’t think you did? But you did.”

“…I so did not.”

“You got there. And besides…like we both said earlier…lots of misdirected projection. And lots of long overdue confrontation. On both our parts.”

Steve couldn’t argue that. Byers was right, at least in this case.

“You were still mad at me,” Jonathan continued, “and I was just mad at myself but convinced that everything and everyone else — you included — were the problem. Not me.”

Jonathan gnawed at his lip for several moments, clearing his throat.  “You basically unleashed years of deeply buried resentment onto me in one foul swoop.  I gotta say, your words…shit hit me hard.”

Steve frowned, ducking his head a bit.  “I honestly don’t even remember some of it.  I just…saw red.”

Jonathan snorted.  “Blind rage will do that.  Shit, I don’t even remember swinging on you back in ‘82.  Apparently, I did a pretty nasty job.”

“I was positive you’d done permanent damage to my nose.”

“Yeah, and then you took an even worse beating from that Hargrove kid and the Russians,” Jonathan said, nose scrunched with a laugh.  Steve laughed, too.  They had to laugh about it all at this point.

“Christ, man,” Steve groaned.  “It’s a wonder my face isn’t the prime subject for plastic surgery…”

Jonathan shrugged. “And you wonder why we all hate you so much.  You’ve gotten your ass beat so many times, and still look good.”

Steve smirked.  “Thanks.”

Jonathan winked.  “I’m sure Bauman Squared digs it.  All the battle wounds.”

That actually made Steve blush.  “Psh.  Compared to the fall she took?  My experiences look like a walk in the park.”

“So Dr. Owens is bringing her meds tomorrow, yeah?” Jonathan asked, brow pinched with worry.

Steve sighed, raking a hand through his hair before crouching over his knees, elbows pressing into them.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that can’t come soon enough.”

Jonathan looked at Steve with a somber expression.  He hated that he was going through this.  Seriously, when was Harrington going to catch a damn break?

“She’ll be alright, man,” Jonathan told him kindly.  “She’s got you.  Got all of us.”

Steve nodded.  “Yeah, she’s gonna have to be.  I’ll lose my goddamn mind if she — yeah, she has to be.”

“She will,” Jonathan nodded, speaking firmly.  Assuringly.  “She’s not going anywhere.”

Steve bit his lip, staring at his hands.  

Jonathan shuffled his feet, feeling shy again before asking… “So hey…are we cool?  Like actually really, finally cool?”

Steve looked up at that, eyes shining with relief and kindness.  He stood up, extending a hand out for a firm handshake.  “Yeah man.  We’re cool.  For good.”

Jonathan felt relief wash over him entirely as he shook Steve’s hand, pulling him in for a tight hug.  And Steve felt like he had just made so much peace with his old self in a multitude of ways, over one honest conversation with Byers.  While he wished it had happened sooner, he realized…maybe if it had, it wouldn’t have led to this.  This true sense of peace that came with newfound mature understanding that both of them had grown into individually.

Byers and Harrington could be friends now.  They both had peace to find with Nancy Wheeler, but if they were being brutally honest with themselves — that wasn’t going to be possible until the two of them had hashed it out, once and for all.  And now that they had, Steve could let Nancy know that he had finally moved on…once and for all...and so could she.

And Jonathan could go make things right with her — whether that led to them deciding to take time apart, or getting his girl back.

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[iamnotoriginalphil]

Not Jealous (Cordelia Goode x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Clearly Cordelia does not feel the same way you feel about her.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: jealousy, assumptions of unrequited love

You knew there was no reason to be jealous. Of course not. Cordelia wasn’t yours. It didn’t matter how you felt about her. There was no point denying your feelings for the Supreme, but that wasn’t the same as having them reciprocated. So you had no right to feel the churning of jealousy in your gut.

Until…

You looked up from the book you were reading, zeroing in on the two woman standing just outside the door. Cordelia’s hand was resting on Misty’s arm, leaning towards her as they talked softly. Your fingers clenched on your book. Taking a deep breath in, you paused, counting to ten in your head before letting it go again.

There was no reason to be jealous.

Misty said something, too quiet for you to hear. Cordelia tipped her head back, her laughter ringing through the room. You stilled, watching her, your eyes slipping over her body, taking in the long column of her neck, the shine of her hair, the curve of her lips. That was your laugh, the one you received when you amused her.

You inhaled sharply, closing your book and slipping out of the room. You couldn’t watch anymore. You couldn’t

There was no reason to be jealous.

Yeah right. Ever since Misty had come back it was like you had to fight for Cordelia’s attention. She’d stopped noticing you. Where once she sought your company, you’d been replaced. She didn’t have time for you. The shared smiles had stop, transferred to another. She’d stopped having time for you, all taken up by the returning witch. You noticed all the ways you were being pushed out, replaced without so much as a word.

What you didn’t notice was the way her eyes followed you out of the room.

You found a quiet spot in the garden to curl up with your book, doing your best to slip back into the words. It was hard, the image of the woman you’d stupidly fallen for as she fell for another kept playing on repeat in your head.

Every touch, every smile, every glance. You’d seen it over and over again. She was slipping further from you with every breath, every brush of fingers over arms, every cupped cheek. The distance was growing and you didn’t know how to stop it. You didn’t even know if it was worth trying.

Clouds were gathering overhead, blotting out the sun. You shivered as the air turned chilly, curling up further on the bench you were sitting on. You tipped your head back, leaving the pretence of reading behind. Closing your eyes, you basked in the memory of how it had been.

You missed the touch of her skin against yours, the way her eyes sparkled whenever you spoke to her, the soft laugh in the middle of the night when she caught you still up reading. You wanted her soft sigh as she directed you to bed, a hand on the small of your back, making sure you climbed into bed and turned the light off. You missed the way she’d pass you a cup of tea in the morning, knowing glint in her eye, fingers brushing against the back of your hand.

A cold drop of rain landed on your forehead. You sighed, picking up your book as another drop fell. You tipped your head back for one last moment, letting the water fall over you, sprinkling on your skin. Shivering, you took a deep breath in, trying to let the rain wash away the jealousy and the pain and the hurt.

It didn’t work.

Wandering back into the house, you didn’t care at the way the rain began to fall harder, only aiming to shield the book. You shivered, uncaring of the puddle of water you were tracking inside. You left the book on the table, stroking over the still dry cover, before leaving it behind. You trailed water through the house as you trudged up to your room.

Sitting in the bath with your arms curled around your knees, you watched the steam curl in the air. On a long exhalation you shaped it into hearts before they broke apart in a shattered kaleidoscope of painful shards. You don’t know how long you sat there, trying to warm the chill that had settled deep in your bones. Maybe you needed something more than a hot bath.

On bare feet, you padded into your room only to freeze as the door closed behind you.

“There you are,” Cordelia said, her voice soft enough to make you groan.

You didn’t know what to say. It had been a while since you’d seen her there, in your room, looking as if she belonged. You pressed your lips together, backing up until your spine was pressed against the door. In nothing but your robe, you felt exposed, vulnerable, like you’d left your armour behind.

“I was worried you’d melted in the rain,” she said, giving you a half small.

“No,” you said, “just having a bath.”

“You were drenched out there,” She took a step towards you, her hands clasped in front of her body, “you left something behind.”

Your book, the one you’d left in the kitchen as you’d rushed upstairs, was clutched in her hand. You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it again. The thought of her noticing you enough to know you’d been out in the rain sent an ache through your chest. She took another step towards you, holding the book out to you. You shook your head, pressing harder against the door.

“What’s wrong?” She seemed to wilt under your gaze.

“Nothing,” you said, voice so small you were surprised it still existed, “thank you for returning the book but I think I’m done with it.”

“You’ve read it?” she asked.

You shook your head. A love story wasn’t really what you were looking for. If you really wanted that you just had to watch Cordelia with Misty. Which only made you want to throw up.

“Darling, talk to me,” she said, taking one more step towards you.

“I’m just tired,” you said, not able to meet her eyes, “maybe you should go.”

Fingers tilted your chin up and you had to hold back tears. The touch of her skin against yours was what you’d been yearning for, wishing for, praying for. You tried to pull back but she held on, her grip tightening to keep you from moving away. You wanted it but not like this.

“If you really want me to go, I will,” she said, “but I’d rather stay and talk to you.”

“I’m sure you have other people you can talk to.” You hadn’t meant to sound so bitter about it.

Something in her face shifted. You held your breath, not wanting her to see the real reason, the embarrassment of it more than you’d be able to handle. She let you go, turning to walk to the bed, placing the book down on the bedside table. You could feel yourself trembling, still pressed against the door.

“You’ve been distant lately,” she said, fingertips running over your comforter.

“I…” You didn’t have a proper answer for her.

“I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve done something wrong. If I have I wish you’d tell me. I don’t like the thought of upsetting you,” she said. The way she looked at you with barely contained regret was not an expression you ever wanted to see on her face.

“You haven’t,” you said.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

That wide eyed stare swimming in sadness was not one that made you feel any better. Your heart clenched and you would have done anything to make her feel better.

But the accusation was ridiculous. You hadn’t been avoiding her. She’d been spending all her time with Misty, choosing someone else’s presence over yours. You’d thought… Well, what you’d thought wasn’t important anymore.

“I haven’t,” you said, “you’ve just been busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you,” she said, voice so soft it could break you in half.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Just because she believed it didn’t mean it was true. Hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her and all those old feelings came swooping back in. Your heart skipped a beat and it didn’t matter that resentment had been building in your chest for weeks now. You’d always fall at her feet, even if she didn’t love you the way you loved her.

“Please. I’ve missed you,” she said.

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep all of the ugly thoughts inside. Her eyes flicked down to it, a thumb gently pulling it free. Your breath stuttered and you had no idea how to function with her so close, touching you in ways you could only dream of.

“Darling…” she breathed.

“I know how you feel about Misty,” you blurted out before it could go any further than it already had.

She blinked, drawing back far enough for you to be able to breath properly again. Her hands were still on your face but the look she was giving you was baffled, as if your words hadn’t made sense.

“What?” she asked.

“I know you’re in love with her,” you said, “so you probably shouldn’t be touching me like this.”

“You think I’m in love with Misty? Our Misty?” She sounded so confused.

“I don’t think. I know you are. I’ve seen you with her and I’m not an idiot. It’s obvious,” you said, wondering if you should be pushing her away as she wasn’t moving on her own.

“I’m not in love with Misty,” she said with a small shake of her head.

“You don’t have to lie to me just to spare my feelings,” you said, “seriously, it’s fine.”

“And while that’s good to know, it’s not a lie. She’s not who I’m in love with,” she said.

Your mouth slammed shut as words failed you. She moved forward again, her palms practically burning the skin of your face. You didn’t know what to do, frozen beneath her hands and her gaze, heart thundering loud in your ears.

“Darling?” she prompted.

“So you are in love with someone?” you asked.

You didn’t know whether to feel sick or hopeful. Maybe sick from being so hopeful.

“I am,” she confirmed, “but it’s not Misty.”

“Who is it?” Your voice didn’t feel your own.

“I thought it was obvious,” she said.

“It’s not,” you replied, shaking your head.

“It’s you, my darling girl,” she said, “you’re the one I’m in love with.”

You didn’t have words. She was smiling at you, the soft one that always made your stomach somersault and your heart flutter. You swallowed past a lump in your throat, not quite able to believe the words she was saying. All your hopes hung on her and it scared you.

“I am?” you asked.

“Of course you are.” Her fingers pushed your hair behind your ear, lingering on your jaw, “you’re the one I want.”

You were hesitant as you brought your hands to her waist. She was so warm under your skin, so soft. Her head dipped, breath ghosting over your lips.

“I want you,” she murmured, lips brushing yours, “only you.”

You kissed her, surging up, pressing yourself to her. You couldn’t stop yourself, needing her with every fibre of your being. She pushed you against the door, pinning you to it, her tongue slipping into your mouth. The taste of her had you moaning, head turning fuzzy.

Her fingers pushed into your hair, tilting your head up as she kissed you deeper. You whimpered, arms curling around her body, holding her against you. She mumbled your name into your mouth, slowing the kiss down, taking her time to explore. You melted under her touch.

“My sweet girl,” she murmured, “my darling girl.”

Her nose brushed against yours, skimming the length of your jaw, lips ghosting over your skin. You were practically vibrating under her, strung so tight, wanting every part of her.

“I’m hoping this means you return my feelings,” she said.

“Yes,” you gasped, “yes, so much. Oh god, so much, Delia.”

“That’s a relief,” she chuckled, drawing back far enough to be able to look at you. Her thumb traced over your bottom lip, smile deepening when you pressed a kiss to it, “so there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you muttered.

“Darling.” She threaded her fingers through yours, tugging you away from the door, “you left every room both Misty and I were in. You sat as far away from me as you could. You stopped showing up for our late night tea.”

“I thought you had someone else you’d prefer to be with,” you said.

“You were jealous,” she said.

“I… was jealous,” you admitted.

Her hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for another kiss, shorter than you would have liked. You whined when she drew back, her chuckle making your cheeks heat.

“You have nothing to be jealous of,” she told you.

“It just looked like… I mean you were always with her,” you tried to explain, “and you touched her like you touch me. You didn’t have time for me anymore.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way, darling,” she said, pulling you closer until she could wrap you in her arms, “I always have time for you. It was never my intention to make you feel like I didn’t.”

“Are you saying you’ll make it up to me?” you asked, muffled against her shoulder.

“And what might you want, my darling girl?” You could hear the amusement in her voice.

Your lips found her neck and her breathy laugh had heat curling in your stomach. She was gentle as she pushed you back, a flush high on her cheeks and bright eyes looking down on you. You pouted but with her hands on your shoulders she kept you back.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” she said, “but dinner will be soon and I’d rather not be interrupted.”

“But-“

She placed her finger over your lips, silencing you more effectively than you could have thought possible. Her smile softened and she stepped closer again, encasing you in a cocoon of her warmth and the scent of her perfume.

“Later, darling. You get dressed. I’ll see you downstairs,” she said.

You nodded. She let you go, stepping around you. She turned at your door, hand on the handle, eyes scanning over you again. You looked back at her, warmth flooding through your veins.

“Oh, and I love you,” she said.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

She gave you a radiant smile and slipped from your room, leaving you alone once again. You stared at the door for a moment, not able to believe your luck.

As it turned out, there really was no reason to be jealous.

[marchsfreakshow]

Reading This And That {Kyle Spencer x Reader}

Drabble :3

You're reading a small novella before bed, and Kyle cuddles up to you, wanting to use the book as a tool for reading.

General Frankenkyle being adorable nonsense since he deserves some respect in this household<3

Your Perspective.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

The dreary night loomed through the windows as my book was lit by a small, warm white light by my side. A simple little book I could read in an evening or so. It was a Christmas themed one I'll admit, but I was still happy reading it. The Christmas part of it was barely mentioned, so it didn't feel totally wrong reading it a few months before December 25th. I was distracted by it, so I didn't hear Kyle come in until he laid ontop of me. "Hi angel, what's wrong?"

"Arg.. Argument. Madison."

"Who did she argue with..?"

"Nan." You looked annoyed at the open door, and closed it quickly, so neither Nan or Madison came in. Kyle turned around, and moved under the duvet before running his finger over a paragraph, trying to read it. "Clara... clearly, clearly can't tell..." He stopped himself, unable to continue. As I held the book, I clapped and kisses his cheek.

"Well done Kyle. Wanna try and continue? I can read the rest if you don't want to." I asked, patting his head a bit.

Quickly, Kyle nodded, putting his finger back on where he stopped. "She's, she's making Charlie...un.. uncomfort.."

"Uncomfortable." I whispered slowly, taking it one syllable at a time.

"un.. comfort..able."

"that's it."

Kyle grinned and carried on reading the paragraph to his liking. It just melted me, but I felt proud of him. He was still learning to speak full sentences, and small books worked like that. "Want to read this book in its whole?"

"Can ask.. Cordelia.."

"To get a whole book for you? Okay...Well remember this book okay?" I closed the book, putting the bookmark on the page we just read. "This Winter."

"pictures." Kyle mentioned, opening it up again, and flipping through to find he different illustrations. He stared at every single one, admiring how the author drew them. Every picture of the family, sharing a Christmas that wasn't perfect. Almost like ours. Kyle didn't mind though, I let him look at the pictures as I slowly started to fall asleep. "Love...love you. Sleep."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter Four - That You Are

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my favourite so far

warnings: mentions of violence and blood, arranged marriage

song: That You Are - Hozier

You let your eyes wander. 

It was not a rarity for the king to request to dine in the gardens, though you don’t understand why he never has a tent put up so one might not suffer so much beneath the mid-day sun. 

It is still summer, the last inklings of it clawing uncomfortably at your dignity as you excessively fan yourself, just below the line of impropriety. 

Your sister has clicked her tongue at you multiple times now, in hopes that you might calm yourself, but you cannot and you will not relinquish your only means to cool down the tiniest bit. 

To your right sits Benji. Actually sits and does not lurk behind you or a few feet away, as your father, so very graciously had ordered him to take a seat and is now boasting over how smart the deal he made with the Brackens and the Blackwoods is and how only a true king could come up with such skilled thinking. 

You’re fairly certain that this could not have come from the little bit of dazed brain he must have left but nobody speaks out, least of all Benji, who simply nods and every now and then thanks the king. 

It’s all quite arduous to sit through and your mind keeps circling back to the end of town and wondering whether the medicine you had made in a hurry two nights ago was doing what it was supposed to do. 

Marion had gone bright red in the face when you had informed her of your indiscreet meeting in the dungeons but you cannot seem to muster up even an ounce of concern over having shared your secret with Benji. 

Quite the opposite, actually. 

You allow yourself a stolen glance at him and this newfound sensation overwhelms you again. You cannot figure it out, incapable of identifying the strings that pull at your heart, but it has fluttered up ever since you had entrusted him with your concoction, grown stronger still, when he gave you a clandestine wink to inform you that everything had arrived safely and where it should be. 

Cordelia nudges you beneath the table. “Did you hear a word he just said to you?”

You frown. “Tristan didn’t say anything.”

“No, but father did. You are to begin a courtship with the young Lord Cathcart.”

Your heart drops to your feet, hand clutching onto your sister’s before you glance up to see a wide-smiled Lady Cathcart, her spider-like fingers curled around the king’s biceps. 

Just then your father lays his eyes upon you and smirks. “Is that not wonderful news? And your knight will be there to protect your honour throughout this. Before we know it, there will be more grandchildren roaming the world.” That last part he directs at his mistress, with a beyond disturbing wiggle of his brows. 

You look at Cordelia and Tristan, both of them blank faced. 

Benji swirls the wine in his cup from side to side and nobody speaks for an awfully long amount of time.

The other advisors at the table do not seem thrilled either. 

House Cathcart births unpleasant people, to put it quite kindly. Their Lady was a great example, an insufferable little parasite, clearly seeking to fuck her way into power and sparing nothing but ill-temper and rude words for anybody she does not view as important. 

She is an embodiment of sleaze, if one that has been blessed with wonderful teeth and hair. 

Her younger brother is not much different. You had heard the ladies of the court whisper about his disgusting lack of manners. 

“Father, might I remind you that I have many offers from much…,” you pause, contemplating whether you would actually like to speak your mind. “Well much more esteemed birth.”

Apparently your father has had enough of your face because he no longer makes the effort to look at you. “And yet, you have not enticed them. You will begin your travels to visit him tomorrow.” 

You desperately try to think of a young nobleman you would prefer to spend time with, yet your mind goes blank, your brain one continuous noise of a warhorn being sounded.

You let go of your sister’s hand and scrape your knife across your plate as the conversation resumed, occasional attempts of naming other highborn heirs, perhaps even from another kingdom.

Sure, you think to yourself, might as well remove me from the only home I know. Might as well let me be a cattle to be bred an ocean away.

“Your highness, I believe it is time for your dance lesson,” Benji says. 

Your head snaps up. It is not. 

He nods, the slightest bit, and then turns away. 

You are not certain, but you think the apples of his cheeks are tinted light pink. 

“I must be excused,” you say, as Benji already pulls out your chair for you. 

Cordelia and Tristan exchange a look that you wholeheartedly ignore and yet nobody else bats an eye.

A third-born daughter’s daily schedule is not of importance to them. 

In long strides you walk away from them all, with every inch of distance you can feel your heart cinching, breath shortening and by the time you’re inside the castle, you cannot see straight ahead.

“Hold on one moment, Princess,” he says and grabs your arm to push you down a narrow hallway, his arm around your waist the moment you are hidden from plain sight. Gratefully you lean your whole body weight against his, until you are back in your kitchen. 

With a swift movement you are sat on your chair, hunched over desperately trying to get air into your lungs, even stale and wet dungeon air, tainted by the stark smell of clandestine medicinal practice.

But you cannot. 

Your mother had died shortly after birthing you. Cordelia had struggled through every pregnancy, growing weaker with each child planted in her body and then clawing its way out. 

You think you might hurl. 

“Princess..,” Benji carefully mumbles. 

You try to see him through the blind panic and fury that clouds your mind but your eyes won’t focus, horrible images of what would happen to you. 

“I can’t breathe,” you gasp. 

He kneels in front of you, his hands clutching at yours. “Yes you can.” 

His voice is laced with uncertainty, as though he doesn’t believe his own words.

Firmly you shake your head. “No, get me out.”

He drags his thumb across the soft palm of your hand. “Out of where?”

Another sharp gasp. 

Here, this palace, this family, this kingdom, this world. 

“My corset,” you all but whimper. 

There is a moment of hesitation, where you cannot hear or feel anything but your own soft cries. 

Then he gets up and walks behind you. 

“My god, this thing is built like a trap,” he mumbles, rough fingers fiddling with your bodice. 

You might have laughed at that. 

It takes him long to help you out of it, revealing the fishbone corset, your hands now clawing at your neckline, praying for some sign of sweet release. 

He is taking forever, or maybe he is not but you have lost all sense of time and space.

Finally there is the sound of a barbaric rip and you are left in your linen shift, panting heavily.

You slump forward and bury your head in your hands. 

Unwilling to be seen, or look him in the eyes - eyes that are undoubtedly looking at you with nothing but pity. 

“Princess..,” he whispers again. You can feel one rough hand through the thin fabric as he circles around to your front.

You shake your head, like a child. “He can’t do this. I’m not ready.”

A soft touch against your wrists, softer than you had thought possible from him. “You’re a witch. Just put poison in his wedding night supper,” he says. 

You snort, an ugly sound, much unlike your usual demeanour. “You-” Hiccup. “Speak treason, Ser Benjicot.”

Carefully he interlinks your hands into one and pulls them from your face. Your forehead hurts from where you dug your nails into it. “You’re smart for a capital girl, you will manage.”

His face is kind and warm, a desire to make you smile clearly etched into the twinkle of his eyes.

“I won’t kill my husband. He is not at fault for my father’s failures.” 

Benji huffs. “And I am the one speaking treason.”

You hiccup again. “He is the king but he is my father no less. And he is horrible at both.”

His fingers sweep hair out of your face, unthinkingly, quickly. “His children turned out quite well either way. A benevolent queen, an honourable heir to the throne and a witch.”

Now he manages to make you smile lightly. “My god, what must a lady do for you to not tease her.”

“I would rather not say,” he answers, and you know there is a double meaning there but you don’t know how to decipher it. You have studied the human body but some things will lie beyond your book knowledge.

Until your bedding ceremony, that is.

Your face drops again and you lean back. “Have a seat somewhere, would you? I do not wish for you to crouch in front of me.” 

“I am your knight. Kneeling comes with this duty.”

You huff. “Does ripping up royal corsetry and sneaking potions into town also go along with it?”

He scrapes the chair across the floor and plops down beside you. 

The two of you sit, and though your eyes are set on the cauldron in the corner of the room, you know he is looking at you.

Perhaps he wants you to say that you feel better?

You decidedly do not, this is after all your deepest fear becoming reality.

Benji nudges the tip of his boots against your calf. 

Everything between the two of you is contrasting. 

“We will find a way. The counsel is against his choice as well, he may be the king but he is not a king at heart and soul.”

A deep sigh escapes you, hiccups slowly fading away.

 “Mayhaps he will be overthrown by the time we reach Lord Cathcart’s castle,” Benji adds. 

Would you want it that way? 

Yes. 

Yes you would.

You would not want him dead, you think, but you want Tristan to rule. You want your father to desert the throne and leave it for somebody capable and dignified. 

Somebody who has honour. 

“Won’t you cheer up, little witch. You still have Marion and me to come with you.” 

A hand flies to your mouth. Marion. “She won’t come. And even if she would like to, I will not let her. Her love won’t let her. Her life is here and her family and friends.” Your hands claw at each other, nervously digging into tender flesh. 

Benji hums. The weight of his oath must be a harsh burden to carry. He will never have a choice but to go where you go.

“I am sorry,” you whisper. “For it all. I know you hate it here.”

He shrugs and grabs your hand. To prevent you from scratching it bloody, you’re certain. 

“I am a man of honour and strength. I suppose it is best put to use for your protection. And the occasional smuggling and destruction of dresses far more expensive than my pay.”

You snort. “It didn’t suit me anyways. Made me pale.”

“Told you. I like red best.” 

He winks. “Like the colour of your cheeks turn sometimes.”

With little force you shove him, your fingers still securely interlinked. “Watch it, I’ll begin sobbing again, my knight.” 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You had bid your goodbyes to everyone at dinner tonight.

A courtship, successful or not, could take many moons and this one is nearly set in stone to end in marriage. Your return home, for now, is a distant dream that you can’t put faith into.

Surprisingly many people had grieved over your farewell. 

Much of the courtiers and even more of the staff insisted that they would miss you. 

Cordelia did not leave your side the entire evening and repeated many times that marriage is less scary than one might expect and that for the most time, your husband would likely leave you be. 

Even Tristan, ever so calm at all times, had looked as though he might like to tie you up if that meant you got to stay and you couldn’t help the deep gratitude you felt for Benji’s consistent, calm presence next to you.

Though you couldn’t claim that you were not deeply embarrassed over how dishevelled he had seen you today, even after he had assured you multiple times that he did not care, as you snuck through the secret passageway back to your room, his cape draped around you. 

Marion had wept the most; her waterlike, bendy fingers preparing your hair for dinner, achieving perhaps her finest work yet. 

It seems sadness is the greatest motivator of the human mind, tears streaming down her face and yet leaving your hair in neat braids. She had apologised many times, that she could not go on this journey with you and that she would likely forever miss your generosity, something you felt she was inflating greatly. 

After all, she had risked her position and even her life every single time she snuck you in and out of the castle walls. 

Your fingers cramp around your quill.

Over the course of your meal, you have come up with a plan once again, though this one might be the most idiotic one yet.

You know that almost everyone with blood rushing through their veins inside this castle is opposed to this marriage and maybe there could be another way to get out of it, but you know it would take long and you will not let your father torture you in the mean time.

Droplets of ink stain your wrist as you scratch forcefully across the parchment. 

You are not dense. You had never tried to trick yourself into believing your betrothal would occur from a love match but you had always been able to comfort yourself with the fact that at the very least you were to do something useful to your family line.

Marry into another important house, a house of wealth or with a strong army. Something that would strengthen the crown and its representation in the kingdom. 

Colour drains from your face each time you think about this fate. 

You’d be ridiculed in the history books, married off to a Baron, the lowest of ranks anybody in your line had married into, ever since the claiming of the throne.

No, you must leave and you must do so quickly. 

Your finished letter remains on your pillowcase. 

Wrapped in your velvet robe you peek out of your door into the hallway where the nightwatch had taken Benjicot’s place a few hours ago. 

“Ser Lawrence. Ser Timon. I wish to not be disturbed during my last night in the castle. Any and all visitors must immediately be sent away,” you tell them.

“Yes, your highness.”

Satisfied you go to lock the door, but then quickly remember. 

“Ser Timon, please tell your cousin that he must reapply the bandage and salve everyday.” 

And with that you turn your back.

You switch your robe out for the most simple dress you own.

While Ser Rodrick had still been around, Marion had kept a better disguise hidden in one of the trunks beneath your bed, but when the change of protector was imminent, she had taken it back home, in fear of being caught. 

You slip into a hooded cloak, in hopes it might do more to keep your identity hidden, wrap a satchel filled with jewellery around your waist, in hopes to pay for travels.

You wish you could take your horse.

Fury is a good horse, in your humble opinion, the most empathetic and perfect companion one can ask for.

Weirdly, she reminds you of Benji, now that you contemplate it.

She looks scary; tall and black and when you had gotten her she was unruly and stubborn but that quickly faded.

A terrifying thought crosses your mind suddenly.

What would happen to Benji? If you were to disappear, would he have to die for it?

You halt in the middle of your room.

No.

That is not a price you are willing to pay for your freedom. You could not in good conscience be responsible for such an atrocity.

Maybe they would let him off the hook? After all there had been a deal made with the Blackwoods, perhaps his family would revolt? 

Would your father have his head still? 

And in mere seconds your last bubble of hope had burst and rained onto you in glittering glass shambles. 

Benji was tough to crack and a little rebellious but you won’t have his blood on your hands forever.

You gaze out the window, see the distant sea. 

But you could still sneak out. For one final night. Check on your medicine. Maybe you could find a tavern to spend time in.

Marion had always said that she loved nothing more than to dance with the common folks, telling never-ending stories of how much lively the music is than at your royal balls, how free and funny the people are.

Yes, you might not run away but for once in your life you would simply do what you wanted to do. 

You pull up your hood and slip into the narrow staircase behind your bookcase. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The streets were bustling, even after nightfall, people chatting away, merchants yelling from every corner, sounds of life buzzing in your ear.

You are smiling, weaving through the crowd. A stranger had handed you a daffodil, proclaiming his inn had the best hunter’s stew in all the kingdom.

Another had told you she could read your future from the palm of your hand, which you of course deemed ridiculous, but had let her do anyway.

She told you that you were destined for a great love. Ridiculous, but endearing in a peculiar way. 

Now you were hoping to find that tavern that Marion so loved to frequent. It was called duckling, or something to that extent. An odd name for a place where people go to drink and celebrate. 

But your feet carry you still, steps lighter than air. You had noticed that your boots were a tad too white, and had promptly walked through every possible puddle to blend in. 

It was exhilarating. You know your privileges and you know them well, but while all the rest of the nobles question how the people of lower birth could live like this, you wonder how you could have gone your life without this. 

Every path revealed something exciting. 

When you had snuck out with Marion, she had dragged you through quiet back alleys, to avoid as many people as possible, but now you wonder if she wasn’t also trying to keep you from being drawn into this magical world you are witnessing now.

A shoulder bumps you and you stumble a bit. 

“Oi watch where you’re going,” came a gruff voice and you almost want to laugh, heart melting at the vulgarity of it, but you have the good sense to not.

“I’m sorry, good man.” 

He grunts and goes to move along but then something catches his eye and he stops.

“Where you from?” He asks.

He has a strong build, tall and burly. You try not to let that worry and flash him a smile. “Arbormere.” 

The man steps forward. You don’t step back. Marion and Ser Rodrick had drilled into you for a long time, that fear is one’s worst enemy. 

“Are ya, now? I ain’t ever met a girl from over there.”

You shrug. “I am their queen’s handmaiden. She is visiting her family,” you lie, quick as the wind and then you decide that you should not remain in one place for so long, shuffling to step past him. 

He blocks the way and before you know it he’s grabbed your arm, with enough force to make you shriek in surprise.

You squirm beneath his grip, attempting to meet the eye of a passerby desperately but nobody seems to notice this scene playing out. 

“Let me go,” you order, with as much authority as you can muster.

With too much ease, you are ripped into a side street. It smells rotten and you close your eyes when the back of your head meets the cobbled wall. 

“Pretty girls like ya’self shouldn’t roam foreign streets,” he says. His breath smells acidic as it fans across the side of your face. 

“Help,” you croak out but you know it is of no use. There isn’t a soul here to hear you in this dark corner.

He squishes your face between one hand, thumb deep in the soft of your cheek. 

“Somebody should teach you a lesson, aye.”

“Yeah and somebody should teach you some fucking manners, you fucking cunt,” a voice rings. 

Benji.

Your face is freed from his grip and you rub where it hurts. 

“Piss off, lad. Ain’t none of your business,” the man tells him.

Something unfamiliar flashes across Benji’s face, a shadow of something sinister. 

Bloody Ben, you think. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” he growls through clenched teeth.

He laughs at Benji, his arms crossed. “I’m not gonna fucking say it twice, boy. Piss–”

He can’t finish his sentence before Benji is on him, a disgusting sound of bones cracking as his fist connects with his nose. 

You yelp, a hand pressed to your mouth in an instant. This stranger is considerably larger than Benjicot, who himself could not be described as a slender man. 

The pair of them tumble to the ground and with every hit your sworn protector takes, you wince, as though you were feeling them yourself. 

Blood sprays across their faces, their hands, the hem of your shirt and you wish you could avert your gaze. 

Something glitters. 

“Knife,” you scream. “He has a knife.”

But Benji has already registered it. 

In a movement so smooth and quick that it was barely noticeable, the knife is stuck in the man’s hand.

He wails, guttural and gory and tries to crawl back. 

Your knight gets up from the ground, towers above him. “Get the fuck away.” Then, in an act so raw you are almost taken aback, he spits on him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the stranger staggers away, as fast as his delirious self can. 

There is a sickening swirl in your stomach and for a moment you think you will cry, but then good sense wins and you leap toward Benji.

Panic strains your voice. “Are you well?” You ask, gently inspecting his face. His nose is bleeding profusely. It stains your fingers, streams down to your wrist, thin red streaks across your skin and white linen sleeves. 

He nods. Distance clouds his eyes but then it is almost like he snaps back to this world. 

He flicks your hands away, and searches your face, the way you had done his. 

You grimace. He is clearly in much worse condition. 

“You fucking idiot. Don’t fucking ever frighten me like this again,” he whispers. 

“Do you know what could have happened? What you look like?”

He raises your hands to eye level. “Your hands are soft, you’ve not done work with them ever. Your hair shimmers, you walk like a fucking fairie and you reek of rose and lavender.”

With each word his voice raises to a whisper-shout. “Do you know how lucky you are that you weren’t recognised? How lucky you are that I got here in time?”

The tips of your ears run hot. “I just wanted-”

“What? To run away and die in a ditch?” 

You shake your head fervently. “No! I was going to return, I just forgot to rip up the letter! I didn’t mean to-”

He scoffs. “You’re lucky I was the one to find that thing. You’re the luckiest girl in the world, in fact.” 

Now there will likely be many moments in the future where you regret this moment but you cannot help yourself. “You call this situation lucky? I am lucky that I will be shipped off to be fucked by a disgusting little man for the rest of my life, be forced to bear his children, do as he pleases me to do, until the day I die? You think this is lucky? I would rather spend my time working every hour of every day of every week of every moon until my bones fail me.”

Benjicot comes even closer, the tips of your noses are almost touching. “Do not ever do something like this again. I will give you as much freedom as I can, but I suppose you did not plan to spend a night of freedom being defiled in some dark alley. Don’t you ever do this to me again.”

To him. 

“Understood?” 

He has engulfed your senses, speaking seems too hard a chore now. You nod. Is it normal for a knight to chastise his princess like this? 

“Good,” he whispers, but you don’t let him get away. 

You use the tissue tucked into your cleavage and dab at his nose. Crimson red stains the colour of house Aprikate. “I think I should set your nose.” Your voice is faint, like you’re worried you might scare him off, like some jittery woodland creature. 

“Hmm.” 

Your hand pulls away and your eyes lock. You swallow thickly. That new sensation haunts you again. 

Benji’s hand curls around the small of your back. 

This feels dangerous. You can’t bring yourself to end the moment. 

He does it for you.

“Let’s return to the castle.”

The air feels tense, new and vibrant the entire way home.

taglist:

@dancingbaek

@jhepolie

@knight-of-flowerss

@majoso12

@rebeccawinters

@poppyflower-22

@nixtape-foryou

@accidentpronedork

@xlittlefiend

@vqmpyrecult

[0-n-1-x]

Headcannons <33

Link to the series masterlist <3

Despite his rough exterior, Jason is surprisingly skilled in the kitchen and enjoys cooking elaborate meals for his partner.

Jason is a secret romantic and loves surprising his partner with thoughtful gestures like handwritten notes or surprise date nights.

He's a night owl and often stays up late working on his motorcycle or reading. Usually accompanied by your half-asleep figure

Jason's taste in music is eclectic, ranging from classic rock to indie folk, and he loves sharing his favorite songs with his partner.

Despite his tough exterior, Jason is surprisingly affectionate and loves cuddling up with his partner on lazy Sundays.

He's a bit of a neat freak and can't stand clutter or messiness in the house.

Jason is a skilled handyman and enjoys tackling DIY projects around the house, and you like watching how his arms flex as he works

Jason's favorite movie genre is action-packed thrillers, but he secretly enjoys watching cheesy romantic comedies with his partner.

Jason has a green thumb and loves tending to his garden, finding solace in the quiet moments spent surrounded by nature.

Despite his tough exterior, Jason is surprisingly sentimental and keeps mementos from important moments in his life, like ticket stubs or photos

Jason's favorite holiday is Halloween, and he goes all out with elaborate decorations and costumes.

Jason is definitely a bookworm and loves curling up with a good book, especially mysteries or thrillers. He likes reading you to sleep more though

Jason is a bit of a thrill-seeker and loves adrenaline-pumping activities like skydiving or bungee jumping.

He's a bit of a tech geek and loves tinkering, but not with gadgets and electronics, he loves working/and taking apart cars or bikes and takes over all IKEA projects.

He's 100% a history buff and loves visiting museums or historical sites

Let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist <33

[failing-to-write-again]

Baby Photos Part 2!

Part 1

Since the lovely asker @lilithram did say to pick between Sakamaki baby photos or reader baby photos, I chose both. While the previous part was less overall fluff and more early relationship I decided to make this one closer to an established relationship. I’m a bit nervous about making the boys ooc so any feedback on parts that are good and in character or those less in character would help me work to tailor my writing.

I worked under the ages proposed by @diabolik-shu-lover from this post.

Shu Sakamaki

Visiting le château de Heinz wasn’t your ideal vacation spot if you were to be completely honest. Unfortunately a major downside to dating a crown prince is how business minded people are going to be about your relationship. Shu had delayed taking you here, sharing his wish to live a more ordinary life until his accession, and even then he still wanted to have a more “normal” relationship. So far your little trip had consisted of a dinner with Shu and his father where he quizzed you on your life, followed by two days of loneliness where Shu was kept away by business of some kind with his father. 

Waking up to day 3 of being alone you elected to at least try to find some evidence of Shu’s childhood you could tease him on. There had to be some silly sailor uniform or ruffled collar from when he was a small Victorian lad. Wandering the halls the castle was a thousand times creepier than the Sakamaki manor had ever been, especially when you were left without a lazy vampire keeping an eye on you. Karl Heinz had requested that his sons not kill you but that was before you began dating the son most likely to be forced into some arranged marriage. It didn’t help that the staff weren’t hidden familiars, they were standing in every room just looking… creepy.

Eventually your exploration landed you in a gallery, paintings decorated the hall with spotlights above each painting. Many seemed very old and depicted pretty women in the castle gardens at night. One of these paintings had a woman you were convinced was Shu and Reiji’s mother. She was under a gazebo in a red dress staring lovingly at someone standing somewhere behind the painting. 

“This must’ve been back when they were all in love before Cordelia.” You mumbled to yourself, turning away and continuing down the hall. You found some more imposing portraits of men, a few being Karl Heinz himself, and some more general landscape paintings. 

After nearly 2 hours of this you found a new hall of all six Sakamaki sons in a series of paintings, VICTORY. It’s always a bit weird when you get obvious reminders of your boyfriend being 387 years old even though he looks like a 19 year old. Seeing paintings of him in severely dated clothes and poses was just bizarre, snapping a picture of him in a wig from the Georgian period was a good form of pay back for his abandonment of you these past few days. There was one painting of him unlike all the others, he looked roughly 3 or 4 and was sat in his mother’s lap with a silver rattled as he peered down at a bundle in Karl Heinz’s lap, the raven coloured hair giving it away as Reiji. He looked so curious and his father looked so happy. He was cute, with blonde curlier locks and a big round face, he looked like any modern day child meeting their younger sibling. Seeing him with eyes so awake and full of life, and no animosity between the two oldest sons of Karl Heinz.

“She kept scolding me for not sitting still.”

Shouting in shock as you turn to see your MIA boyfriend with a shit eating grin on his face at your reaction.

“What’s with that face woman, girlfriend’s are meant to be happy when they see their boyfriend’s not scream like a banshee.” Teasing you as he stepped closer, moving his hands to sit comfortably at your waist. In response you let your head fall with a thud into his chest, wrapping your arm around his back.

“Well boyfriend’s aren’t meant to tell their girlfriend’s they’re going on vacation to then vanish off for days. We never get time together in the manor without your brothers hanging around and now your dad is keeping you busier than you’ve ever been.”

Sighing, Shu buried his nose in your hair  wrapping one arm around your shoulder and another around your lower back huddling you close. “I’m sorry. That guy wouldn’t stop talking about all this protocol and other crap about properly introducing you as my chosen queen. He wanted to rush everything.”

Pulling back just enough to look up eyes wide at what he was saying. Queen, you a queen? Not to mention having to meet more creepy vampires. Sensing some of your unease, Shu smiled.

“Relax, I managed to get him to agree to a much slower schedule, you won’t be rushed off to a ball anytime soon. For now the worst of it will be seeing some property we own and meeting his close advisory staff and my other’s old staff. After I have you to myself for another few months we’re going to graduate first.”

Letting out a sigh of relief you lay your head against his shoulder, staring back up at the painting. “As a kid you were pretty cute Shu.”

“Not as cute as you as a mini ballerina,” he shot back, absentmindedly rubbing little circles against your back as he also stared at the portrait.

“If I do end up as Queen you’re not allowed to marry anyone else, I refuse to deal with the whole situation with your mothers. And you can’t ever let our kids have such a poor relationship like you and Reiji.”

“Not if, when, princess and don’t work yourself up over stupid things. You’re mine, I'm not letting some woman try to take me away ever. Seriously such bothersome thinking.”

Leaning down he gently kissed you, as if you were so delicate and precious. Looking up at blue eyes finally looking awake and closer to that childhood Shu then he had in centuries.

Reiji Sakamaki

“The box I’m looking for is about as big as an envelope, and has a leather strap holding it shut. Let me know if you spot it.”

“Alright, anywhere you’d prefer I don’t look. I don’t want to run into some secret Laito porn stash up here.”

You hear Reiji chuckle at that. “Laito doesn’t come up here, too many spiders. I do not care where you go, we are partners, we agreed no secrets right.”

That made you smile, your relationship with Reiji was the fruit of a long journey of trying to reach an understanding. For a while you were both not fully able to understand each other, and while no relationship is perfect, especially yours, hiccups that would’ve caused serious arguments before were now easier to settle over tea. It felt good to feel like a respected partner.

Looking through the attic for this mystery box was a good time to find mementos to learn more about Reiji. Looking through older books and boxes of clothes or unused houseware most of the items in this portion of the attic seemed unimportant. Reiji focused his search on the opposite side of the room where the ceiling was higher, you were shorter than the 6ft man so were less uncomfortable searching where the roof sloped down. A small dusty window allowed some of the early morning light to stream in. Reiji had begun waking later during holidays to allow you both to have a day that had more sunlight for you. He claimed it was to reduce risk of seasonal depression or vitamin D deficiency, with the added benefit of allowing you both to go to museums and other date locations. Waking at 12am gave you the opportunity to see sunrises daily, and if you were honest the view of your boyfriend in the hazy early morning glow was always a welcome sight. 

“You’re staring.” 

“I see nothing wrong with admiring my boyfriend”

He let a smile sigh pass his lips as he smiled, shaking his head. Looking back down at the stack of cardboard boxes he was rifling through. You pull your eyes away and back to the room around you, you spot something sticking out behind a shelf. Pulling it out you find a handful of photos and a small box. The photos were black and white, Daguerreotypes, on metal sheets. The images showed a younger Reiji taking what looked like test photos. Some were of him, slightly blurred from incorrect technique, others of items. The last photo was much clearer and was of Reiji sitting in a chair with a book in his lap. He must’ve gotten a familiar to take the photo. 

“Hey Reiji can I take these down? I don’t know how to store such photos though.”

Looking up Reiji walked over, taking the photos from you to look through. He picked up a box placing them inside before handing them to you,

“I will have the familiars store them properly and make scans so you can have more stable prints of them. If you wish to have images of me to display however, I would prefer you take more modern photos with both of us.”

Smiling down at the box of photos, Reiji spoke again.

“Smiling over such trivial things as a few photos, you should be harder to please.”

“You’re probably the first man to ever say that Reiji, besides it’s nice to have childhood photos of each other. I only have my locket but what happens when your children ask to see what you looked like as a child?”

“Our children will have plenty of paintings of me to see at my father’s castle, and if we are so lucky your only response will be that they look exactly as you did as a child.” Adjusting his glasses Reiji knelt down and picked up the box you had also pulled out with the photos. Meanwhile as his words set in your face flushed slightly.

“Our children…Reiji you shouldn’t say that stuff so casually. Besides, why would you want them to look like me? I'm human.”

That was not a response he liked, gently lifting your chin with his thumb and pointer finger Reiji looked you in the eye as he spoke. “Our children should be as pretty or handsome as their mother. I’m insulted you think, after all we’ve been through, I have not grown out of the belief that blood is a final decider in terms of superiority. You are superior, you are who I want, you alone are my partner and equal so strong as to be able to hold my heart in your hands. Am I clear?”

Your blush darkens as Reiji flusters you further, you can only nod your head in response to such strong compliments said so earnestly. Smiling Reiji’s thumb gently swiped over your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you. Reiji always kisses you with the aim to convey all of his feelings for you, as if you will never be able to kiss him again. Moving in tandem you ended up leaning against a shelf with Reiji’s arm pinning you there, your arms holding onto his collar to prevent him pulling away too soon. 

Unfortunately, Reiji has to ensure you take in air so moves back. Opening the box, he removes a key, turning it over in his hands.

“This key is to my father’s laboratory here, he used it when he was visiting us as children. I sealed it off years ago and elected to use my room for my experiments. However, due to the chemicals it is not safe for you to sleep there so they must be moved.” 

“What’s wrong with my room?”

“It is a guest room, I’m not going to sleep every night in a guest bedroom in my own home. No, my room must be altered to fit its needs and to do so I shall reclaim the laboratory as my own to allow you to rest safely.”

All you could do is follow along as Reiji began to return back downstairs, gazing down at the box of pictures. Looking at the sad younger Reiji you couldn’t help but compare him to the cool, confident man he had become.

Ayato Sakamaki

Ayato had demanded you meet him in the garden of the castle that evening, something about having something special to show you. You weren’t sure what to expect really, surprises with Ayato were often either very nice or sweet but messy failures. Breakfast in bed when you’ve never cooked before was a bad idea in hindsight, even he had to admit. Still as the night started to fade into dawn you made your way to the gardens, examining the sights around you as you went. 

The father of the Sakamaki’s had summoned them to return for some festival of sorts. Ayato had been vague in describing it, rather unhappy to be returning. It seemed like some carnival was being set up, you hoped it was a carnival anyway. As you ponder the pros of encouraging Ayato’s competitiveness to win you stuffed toys you eventually reach the garden. Opening the glass doors you see Ayato sitting on a blanket, under the stone gazebo and some candles lit around. He had a few plates of your favourite deserts around as well as takoyaki. He grinned as you approached, arms crossed and pride beaming from his face.

“I set this all up, yours truly is the best boyfriend ever, and I have a present for you.” Pulling out a box with a bow stuck on the lid, he gestured for you to open it. You sat down cross legged, opening the box to reveal a collection of photos. 

Lifting some out you realise these were the photos Ayato had burnt after he had first met you, before you had started dating. They looked untouched. Ayato, not trusting your silence, began to speak again.

“Ore-sama got the familiars to find copies and I had those losers in the tech club at school print them. They couldn't say no to yours truly. Do you like it?”

“Why did you do all this, you threw them into the fire.” Ayato blushed before looking away, a hand on his neck.

“I…felt…bad about making you cry like that. It’s only fun when you cry from my bites, not over that stuff.” 

Your sniffling brought his attention back to you, panic spreading across his face. Pulling you into his lap and holding you close as his brain froze trying to find the best course of action. Your hands rising up to hold his cheeks as you attempted to calm down, a smile on your face.

“It’s ok, they’re happy tears. I’m happy Ayato.”

“Are you sure, don’t lie to yours truly.”

“I’m not, I swear! Thank you Ayato, these photos are important to me.”

Sighing in relief, Ayato leant back letting his head thunk against one of the gazebo pillars. 

“Damn it, you’re not meant to cry when Ore-sama gives you gifts.”

Running his fingers along your back. You began rifling through some of the photos noticing some new additions to the collection. There, between the photos of a younger you were pictures of you and Ayato on various dates. You, completely unaware of the camera while Ayato was looking and seemingly taking each photo. There was also one picture of a painting, it was of three boys with the child on the left resembling a much younger version of your boyfriend. 

“I didn’t know you had any childhood photos of Ayato.”

“It’s the only one, you can’t have a collection of photos without one of yours truly to admire.”

Giggling you sit back leaning against his chest while you both began to enjoy your picnic and company. 

Laito Sakamaki

You were currently facing a big problem, for some reason the 2nd year history department had decided to assign a project discussing your family history…in detail. So you were currently stressed out of your mind trying to figure out how to worm your way out of this one. Laito was covered, his family history well laid out as a royal and all of his ancestors having false human lives, it basically wrote itself. Yet here you were unable to write anything. It’s not that you were necessarily ashamed of your orphan status, and your close companions now also ‘brides’ of the Sakamaki’s were virtually sisters and you could maybe write about them. But people always got weird about orphans, and while you weren’t ashamed to be one by any means, being Laito’s girlfriend let alone a Sakamaki girlfriend involved gossip, it came with the territory. Extra rich boys in a school full of rich kids would always mean they were an aim for many girls and their parents alike, let alone Laito’s colourful past meaning he’d slept with basically any 2nd year heiress he could say a word to. All of them convinced they’d be the one to make him want to stay, and all of them feeling the same disappointment or satisfaction when one failed. Then in comes a girl under a sponsorship by said extra rich kid’s father who then ends up dating each of them effectively removing them from the market, and meaning every single girl, generally all conventionally very attractive and whom most men would gladly keep as girlfriend, being ‘beaten’ as they saw it by someone with no assets. 

So to put a long story short, while you weren't super torn up about not having an easy to explain family tree, you weren’t ready to deal with everyone’s response to that little tidbit. All of this led you to now, sitting with Laito as he brushed your hair listening to your predicament.

“Like whatever about the teacher getting weird, I’ll gladly take the free pass to ask for extra stuff. But you really made everything difficult. I can handle snide remarks from Hana, Aoi, and Emiko; they're mostly harmless. Yet, if they get it in their heads that I don’t have parents to cause any issues they might get worse.” You stopped to pick up some popcorn, holding your arm backwards to give Laito some. He took the opportunity to lick your fingers, snickering as you pulled your hand back, wiping it on your jeans. 

“Don’t be nasty, I'm having a serious talk. I just… some of the 1st year girls were horrid to Subaru’s girlfriend just for finding out she had been at a boarding school. They cornered her in the bathroom and stuck gum in her hair. Gum! Like yeah me and the girls tore them a new one but…gum!”

Humming thoughtfully, Laito placed down the brush switching to running his fingers through your hair. He moved to rest his head on your shoulder, letting a comfortable silence sit over you while he thought of what to say.

“If you want, I can get you a family tree in full detail”

“How would you even do that, if you just make people up and anyone finds out then it's worse.”

“We could always make one~”

A pillow to the face shut that idea down, laughing as he fell backwards against the cushions while you were glaring at him.

“Be serious! What am I meant to do?”

Sitting back up, Laito took your hand pulling you up.

“Follow me.”

Walking through the manor, Laito took you to a less well maintained wing. Cobwebs littered the hallway and the wallpaper was peeling slightly in patches, there weren't any electrical lights either, only wall sconces with candles Laito lit as you walked by. Laito was silent for most of the journey, only giving a hand squeeze of reassurance whenever you caught his eye. You weren’t sure if the squeeze he gave passing a portrait of Cordelia was to reassure you or him, whenever you even heard of that woman it sent shivers down your spine.

Paintings became more common the further you walked, most were of adults with a vague similarity to Laito and his brothers, others were portraits of women in beautiful dresses with a characteristic pale visage. Finally stopping in front of a picture of three young boys with a signature red and purple haired look.

“This is the only painting or picture of me and any of my brothers together. Me and the other triplets don't argue as much as Shu and Reiji but we aren’t close,” he turned, taking your hands in his. “You have sisters, actual sisters who you have stories and pictures with. Anyone who disagrees, I will handle.” 

“Gum in my hair Laito. It’s not a good look.” Laito sighs, pulling you close before you hear him mutter.

“Theirs will look worse when I cut it all off.”

Kanato Sakamaki

“Dolly, why are you in here?”

Turning to greet Kanato from where you sat in the quiet wing of the Sakamaki manor, placing your sketchbook back down beside you and making room for your boyfriend to sit nearby.

“I come here to sketch the portraits since I can’t get a good wifi connection to look up references. I really like this painting, it’s of you right?” 

Kanato sat down looking up at the painting then to your sketch. It was different to the painting in many ways, the main difference being that it was a younger him alone with teddy. You had changed his posing too slightly to make him look less nervous. He was pinching his fingertips though, a sign he was uncomfortable that he picked up from the exercises he had copied you doing to help regulation. You could see he was struggling to find his wording. Scooting closer you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to reassure him you cared and were listening. 

“It’s pretty, but dolly I don’t like you being here.”

“Why Kanato? It’s nice here, nobody comes here to interrupt or be loud and there's all these pretty paintings. What’s wrong?” Continuing to play with his fingers, he moves closer to you turning to face you straight on.

“This is where…her room used to be. We have to leave me and Teddy hate it here.” Immediately you were filled with questions. While you knew Kanato, Ayato, and Laito killed their mother and have mixed feelings towards her, you had never seen Kanato spooked. It did explain why this area was not well maintained. You had to bring a brush with you during your first visits to the wing to remove some of the largest cobwebs and first from your seat. However, you had to admit that with the newfound knowledge that these halls were where your boyfriend had been tormented by his own mother for centuries it changed the atmosphere. Suddenly the quiet was now tense, the weathered appearance of the halls becoming creepy signs of lifetimes long since passed. 

So you went along with Kanato’s instruction, returning to the more familiar manor where Reiji had familiars ensuring everything was organised and dustless. Following behind while mulling over the best way to approach this particular conversation. He led you to his room, sitting on his bed with your sketchbook and flipping through it. Pacing the path from his bedside locker to his balcony doors slowly, Kanato watched you. Around your fifth lap he gently grabbed your forearm guiding you to sit next to him, playing with the pages of your sketchbook. He turned to one of your favourites, you had drawn Kanato sitting in front of a backdrop of rose bushes. A small smile on his lips and a glint of childish glee in his eyes.

“I’m hanging this one up.”

“That one isn’t fully vanished, it's only a sketch.”

“But I like it, so it’s finished and I want it on my wall. And I want a matching one of you to go beside it.”

Sighing in acceptance you took his hand winding your fingers with his. It was probably better to shelf some questions anyway, while you were well past the stage of Kanato stabbing you with a fork for too many questions it was still not always easy to bring up sensitive topics. 

Subaru Sakamaki

“Oi, idiot the car is outside. Are you ready to go or what?”

Grabbing your earrings and standing, you began walking over to your boyfriend in a new sundress and short heels for a lunch meeting with Christa at some new vampire restaurant she had taken a liking to. In the years following yours and Subaru’s relationship, both of you had begun to put work into  helping both Subaru and his mother move forwards in their lives and reducing the impact their past traumas had on them. It was a slow and difficult progress with what felt like 100 steps back after every step forward but Christa had reached the point where her good days outnumbered her bad ones with the help of a team of specialists and patience. 

Within the last half a year Christa had begun to travel short distances from her home, a fairly new cottage Subaru had built her close to the manor after we graduated from Ryoutei Academy. Today’s trip was to a cafe she had been to numerous times with her trusted hand maids, so it was an obvious choice for the first excursion you and Subaru were joining in on. On Subaru’s part you had nothing but admiration and pride for the strides he had taken, he still had periods of self doubt often linked to birthdays and when his father was involved. However, such episodes were short and he had grown into more healthy responses to these thoughts, that still didn’t reduce his worries when interacting with his mother in environments that could trigger an episode. It took reassurances from Christa and her therapist to show that there was a set of precautions to ensure her safety before he agreed to this lunch. 

That brought you to today, where your boyfriend adjusted the collar of his pale grey shirt and looked at you with eyes that clearly showed his trepidation about this trip. Looping your arm around his as you made your way to the car you offered reassurance.

“She’s been looking forward to this lunch, she goes there every week at this point it's basically the same as when we have dinner with her.”

“The first time we had dinner with her she started screaming at your halfway through thinking you were a thief, before she tried to cut your hair off.”

“That’s not a fair comparison and you know it. Christa has found medicines that work and worked with Dr. Estelle for years now.”

“You know she  wants you to call her mum.”

“She’ll be mum when you get on the ring choosing we both agreed last time at dinner remember. She even offered to help you plan everything.”

Grunting, he looked away squeezing your arm while opening the passenger side door of his porsche. The ride was mostly quiet with you running your shared spotify playlist with Subaru mentioning concerns for you to counter with considerations made to address them. Once you arrived at the cafe Subaru relaxed quickly seeing Christa behaving normally. 

As always, you were greeted with hugs and excited interrogations as to the going ons of your life since your last visit. Christa had been so kind as to give recommendations based on your individual tastes, having an excellent grasp on the menu. She was also so kind as to bring an album of photos her staff had made of Subaru growing up to allow her to feel more included in his life while locked in that tower. 

“Oh my goodness! He looks so cute here, when was this one?”

You pointed to a photo of a roughly 8 year old Subaru sitting on a wooden table licking a spoon covered in some batter. Smudges of the batter were on his cheeks and shirt as a fire was lit in the background. It was a cosy image and something you had seen Subaru do before. Anytime you baked anything he insisted on spoon cleaning duty to ‘make it easier to clean’.

“Ah, one of my ladies in waiting had that painted after she heard me talking about how happy I was during that visit.”

“I love it, Subaru was such a cute kid!”

“I don’t see what's so cute, I’m just stuffing my face there.”

“Oh shish Subaru. She’s right, you were an adorable kid with cute little cheeks.” To emphasise her point she pinched his cheeks while cooing at him. Subaru only scowled in response, but it held no actual malice behind his glare.

While leaving the cafe, after nearly 5 hours of catching up, Christa pulled you aside to give you the picture claiming she had hundreds more. During the drive home Subaru kept looking at you admiring the photo. 

“You can always take pictures of me ya now. You don’t need to use a kid photo of me for that.”

“I have photos of you, I just like this one, it's special.”

“You’re such a weird woman.”

“Would you have me any other way?”

[stayevildarling]

So I just found your page! I absolutely loved One Too Many Secrets and everything else you have written! I was wondering if I could request another Cordelia/Billie/Mina x Reader or Natasha/Wanda/Cordelia x Reader (whichever you prefer) where Reader goes missing one day. They search for her, but can’t find her. A while later, one or all of them run into her in public, but she’s very confused and claims to not know any of them. She is with another person who calls her a different name, eventually R leaves with that person, leaving the others rather upset, hurt and confused. Then a few days later, Reader reaches out to them. She tells them she was in an accident and woke up with absolutely no memory of who she is or anything about her life. She’s hoping they can maybe fill in some details.

So this whole time, they’ve been searching for her. Praying she hadn’t left them or was taken or worst case scenario no longer alive, and she’s just been living under a different name with no idea who she is. I’ll leave the ending up to you if Reader remembers or not.

I just have this idea of Reader reaching out to them like, “…wait… so you know me?”

“Know you? …. We love you.”

…if you wanna… if not, I totally understand!!! I love your writing!!!

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Cordelia Goode x Reader- It all fell down

A/N: I just want to say thank you to whoever sent me this 🫶🏻 I absolutely adore requests like these. I changed some of it to fit the storyline that I had in mind and I decided to go with wandanat x Delia for this one because I enjoyed writing their chemistry together last time. I apologise if the ending seems a bit cheesy or rushed but this was getting really long.

tags/warnings: female reader, established relationship, quad polyamorous relationship, mention of violence, mention of blood, mention of weapons/guns, amnesia, cursing, angst, fluff

translation: detka= baby, malishka= baby girl

word count: 7k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

As soon as the front door opens, both Cordelia and Wanda immediately rise to their feet, anxiously rushing towards the hallway only to expose a soaked, beaten and bruised Natasha. The sound of rain and thunder from outside draws out as the redhead steps inside. ,,Oh honey'' the supreme coos, tilting her head a little and biting her lip to hide her own anxiety. Wanda simply watches, her green eyes never leaving her girlfriends as the black widow brushes past them, her features tense as she makes her way towards the bathroom. Two sets of worried eyes follow her, as the door bangs shut matching her inner frustration.

The cold water grounds the Russian a little as she runs it over her tired features, using a towel to dry off her hair and the remainder of water on her body before glancing at herself in the mirror. All she can see is shame, disappointment and guilt, another night of searching for something, any clues, anything that could help her. ,,Darling?'' Wanda tries softly, knocking on the door a few minutes later. Natasha knew both her lovers could easily open the door, Wanda being the scarlet witch and Cordelia being supreme and headmistress to Miss Robichaux's Academy and so with a sigh she opens the door, exposing her tired features.

,,What happened?'' the blonde tries softly, tilting her head to the side again and her fingers tracing gently across the cut forming on Natasha's forehead. ,,Nothing- I'm fine'' she quickly reassures, before again brushing past them and walking over to her dresser, ridding herself from the wet clothing and changing into a new tank top and some sweatpants. ,,Honey, you have got to stop this'' Cordelia tries, taking another step towards the former assassin. Wanda nods, agreeing with her partner before her green eyes try and search for Natasha's. ,,You can't keep going out there, one day you'll get hurt or worse, we will loose you too'' she explains before tears fill her vision, her lip beginning to wobble as her fear and the words practically burst out of her.

,,I have to'' Natasha mumbles, ignoring her lovers words and concern, the only thing on her mind you. ,,Someone has to keep trying'' she huffs before walking over to the armchair in the corner. ,,And we will darling, just come to bed with us please'' Cordelia tries, her expression stern as the concern threatens to overwhelm her. ,,Later'' Natasha huffs, her accent thick as she settles into her usual corner before Wanda and the blonde simply give up. It had been like this for a few months, ever since your disappearance, Natasha has been out there every single night, searching the streets for any clue, talking to people who may know something, going back to your favourite places or the ones that made you feel safe like the lake where Wanda would always take you for picnics, even Delia's academy as you had spent a majority of your time there and even the hill with the special view that Natasha had shown you once. But it wasn't successful and eventually the redhead grew tired of this, getting more aggressive with her search, with her questioning.

The day where you didn't return home from work had changed them all indefinitely. Cordelia had the strange feeling something wasn't right as soon as the clock turned it's usual time for your arrival home. Wanda and Natasha tried to calm her down, thinking maybe you had gotten caught up with something or simply stopped somewhere on your way home. However, the feeling quickly settled in Wanda's stomach as well as she had tried calling you countless times, Natasha eventually spending the whole night in the hopes of finding you. However you never returned and it killed them all in their own way. Wanda spent the first weeks devastated as her own past came to haunt her before she tried to use all of her strength and magic to find you. Cordelia had spent every waking moment trying to find you, using countless spells but none of them had worked and it killed her. And so the only thing she could try and do was look after both Wanda and Natasha and try to remain strong for them. Not a day passed where Cordelia didn't miss her little sunshine and Wanda didn't miss her special girl.

For some reason it hit Natasha harder than both of them. Every night she sat in the same armchair in the bedroom, the one that overlooked both the street and also the front door, simply in the hopes that you would return. She would have little sleep, sometimes even none. Skipping on Missions with the avengers often as she wanted to do her own thing and find you, knowing their resources failed when they had equally looked for you a while back. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was her fault, after all she was the most like you. Growing up you had equally been forced to work for an organisation and they turned you into their own villain and spy, sending you all over the world to gather information and during this you became strong both mentally and physically until you stumbled upon Natasha and Wanda when trying to infiltrate the avengers compound before they took you in eventually, being able to tell you wanted out.

The black widow couldn't help but think that she should have been there that day, that they should have never allowed to let you take that silly little part time job as you were busy enough with missions for the avengers as well as helping Cordelia back at the academy, despite not being a witch. She feels like she failed you, often wondering whether you may have walked away voluntarily and that she or they may have upset you. Her first thought was you being taken but she had made sure to shut down the whole organisation from your past and there had been no sign of you anywhere on earth. While Wanda had a strange feeling that you may be dead, as she couldn't feel you anymore, Natasha never gave up, spending every waking moment on finding you, finding her detka, despite ruining her life and relationship in the wake of it. But she didn't care, her main mission always being you and your wellbeing.

After another week had passed by, Cordelia and Wanda somehow convinced Natasha to finally spend some time with them and forget about her mission for one day and the black widow only agreed because she was tired, tired of not getting any answers and not finding you. The supreme had suggested the markets as it was her usual Saturday morning routine and despite the thought killing her as she always went there with you, she thought it may bring Wanda and Natasha some joy. They stopped at some little stalls, Cordelia picking up some herbs and flowers, Wanda trying to relax although the only thing she could do was search for your face in the crowds. Natasha actively tried to relax, wanting to be better for both her girlfriends, knowing this hadn't been easy on them either. After going some more places, picking up some ingredients for dinner, the sky now filled with some dark clouds, Wanda suddenly halts in her steps, almost dropping some of the bags.

,,Wands?'' Natasha asks softly, her face filled with concern seeing the expression on her lovers face. ,,What is it darling?'' Cordelia asks concerned, noticing how Wanda almost seems frozen in her spot. ,,Y/N.. it's Y/N'' she whispers, her eyes locked on a little crowd of people standing by a lemonade stand. ,,Darling'' Cordelia sighs, knowing Wanda has been struggling with this especially and looking for you everywhere whenever leaving the house, often having to remind her that someone with the same height, hair colour or piece of clothing wasn't you and having to pick up the pieces. ,,No wait'' Natasha stops the supreme, seeing the back of your head and her breath almost getting caught in her throat. She is quick to abandon her other lovers, rushing through the crowds until she reaches you. ,,Y/N.. detka?'' she tries before the person next to you turns around.

As soon as Wanda and Cordelia catch up, the supremes hand hovers on your shoulder, urging you to face them and when you do their faces drop in realisation that this really was you. ,,Oh my god Y/N'' Wands cries, tears instantly streaming down her cheeks as she had waited for this for so long. ,,Oh my sweet girl, where have you been?'' Cordelia asks through tears equally, her hands instantly reaching to cup your cheeks. Natasha watches carefully as you flinch at the supremes touch and your confusion when Wanda spoke to you moments before, carefully observing the person accompanying you and watching the scene unfold.

,,I-'' you almost stutter, turning towards Jay in confusion before glancing at the three unfamiliar women again. ,,Who- who are you?'' you ask confused, watching as their hearts shatter in front of you. ,,Y/N'' Cordelia begins, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion and pain. ,,I don't know who you are and my name is Alex'' you repeat, growing frustrated and still thinking they are mistaking you for someone else. ,,It's us'' Wanda tries, reaching for your hand hoping her touch could do anything, make you feel, make you remember. ,,Sweetie, this is Natasha, Wanda and I'm Cordelia'' the blonde tries to remind you and despite recognising the first two from somewhere, you still had no clue what was happening. ,,So you.. you know me?'' you ask confused, having no memory of your life until a few months ago back when Jay had found you.

,,Know you? detka.. we.. love you'' Natasha tries, finally finding her voice despite the pain almost crushing her whole. Your face turns from confusion into shock listening to their words. Helplessly you search their eyes for any sign of a lie despite not knowing them well but something within you told you could trust the set of brown and two set of green eyes who are equally pleading with you to listen, to trust them. ,,Jay?'' you almost whisper, getting his attention before he looks at you, your eyes pleading anxiously and frustrated at your husband, he having been the only one by your side since you can remember. ,,This is clearly a mixup, her name is Alex'' he claims before tugging at your arm and ushering you to follow him. ,,Hey back off'' Natasha warns, gripping his arm hard and freeing you of his grasp. ,,Nat.. calm down'' Cordelia ushers, stepping between the two of them before pulling the Russian away.

,,I'm sorry'' you whisper with guilty eyes before following Jay and within seconds they had lost you again as you are out of sight. Natasha tried to follow, however she was stopped by Cordelia, the supreme knowing they couldn't figure it out like this. A loud sob suddenly ripples through Wanda, causing Cordelia to let go of the redhead. ,,Wanda hey'' the supreme tries, watching as the ginger sinks to her knees, watching you walk away again. ,,Malishka it's okay'' Natasha tries, doing her best to hide her own pain and broken heart and the confusion of all of this. Together, they help Wanda back on her feet, collecting the bags that had been dropped in the process of this before taking the exhausted and confused witch home, careful of her fragile state.

It didn't take long before they made it home, tugging Wanda into bed as the confusion and pain of seeing you again and you not recognising them had tired her out. With gentle hands, they had tugged her in, gave her some water and dried her tears before softly coaxing her to sleep. As soon as the Scarlett witch had settled, Cordelia and Natasha leave the room, leaving the door open a little bit incase Wanda would wake and need them by her side again. ,,What the hell was that?'' Natasha sighs, her accent again thick due to her frustration. ,,I don't know.. I don't understand'' Cordelia cries, finally letting her walls down and the tears flow. Rubbing her temples in confusion, the supreme paces through the hallway and living room, trying to make sense of this, going over the scene again and again to make sure that she hadn't missed anything. ,,How can she just not recognise us?'' Natasha sighs before speaking again ,,And who the hell was that Jay guy?'' she asks in frustration, her fists forming in anger.

,,I don't know but I don't like this Nat, she doesn't like being around guys, you know that better than I do'' Cordelia tries, remembering your past trauma from your life before meeting them and joining the avengers eventually. ,,I gotta figure this out'' the redhead announces, before grabbing her keys and jacket. ,,Where are you going?'' Cordelia asks, worry evident in her voice. ,,The compound.. I'm sure I can find something on the guy there'' she ushers before glancing at the supreme one more time and her eyes pleading for permission. Of course the blonde agrees, knowing if anyone could figure this out it was the black widow. ,,Be safe for me'' she ushers before Natasha steps closer, softly wiping her tears and kissing her forehead goodbye. ,,Look after Wands for me'' she whispers as they share a moment of intimacy. ,,I promise and you'll let us know?'' the supreme asks before Natasha nods and leaves in a rush.

While Cordelia takes a moment to breathe, before eventually joining Wanda in the bedroom again and laying beside her, making sure she could be there as soon as her girlfriend would wake, Natasha was quick to make it to the others. ,,Natasha'' Tony exclaimed almost excitedly, not having seen the woman for a couple of weeks. His features turned serious along with Steve's as they quickly take in her tense features and the concern in her green eyes. ,,What is it?'' they ask almost in unison before the redhead sighs. ,,We saw Y/N today'' she sighs before their faces turn into confused ones. ,,But that's grea-'' Tony begins before she cuts him off. ,,It would be, if she remembered us and wasn't accompanied by some strange guy'' Natasha huffs, their eyes meeting as the words settle in. ,,What can we do?'' Steve asks concerned, always having been fond of you and your disappearance hurting them equally as they had missed you around and ultimately both Wanda and Natasha.

,,I need to pull up any CCTV from the market and surrounding areas and I really have to find that Jay'' she announces before they both nod, Tony already walking towards a computer and joining Natasha while Steve goes to collect some more members, fully prepared to join Natasha on this mission of finding you. They spent the next several hours going through any details and despite it being quite tedious at first, they manage to actually find some footage of both you and the guy that Natasha had mentioned getting into a car. Once they found this, it took them seconds to pull up a name, quickly realising that his name wasn't actually Jay and pulling an adress from the licence. ,,I'm going'' Natasha was quick to announce, before Tony and Steve had stopped her, ushering her that they would go as well, as she had no idea what she may walk into.

Natasha halted in her steps, thinking whether this was wrong of her, whether she should include Wanda and Cordelia in this. After all they are two of the most powerful witches on earth and could surely help her figure this out. A part of her knew that this came with certain risks if this was truly not just some guy you are living with and she didn't want her girlfriends anywhere near that danger. So in the end she agreed, following Tony and Steve into one of the cars, insisting on driving as she was undeniably the fastest. It doesn't take her long until they pull up to an industrial building block with several apartments. She had convinced Tony and Steve to leave their gear behind as she didn't want to risk scaring you incase this wasn't what she thought it was. And so, the three of them quickly make their way to the building, opening the front door as it had been unlocked before climbing several stairs to reach the adress of the guy they had found, supposedly going by the name Jay.

Tony is quick to use his technology to determine that the apartment is empty, before Natasha breaks the door open with a lock pick, trying not to leave any tracks behind. As soon as they step inside, they find photos on the wall of both you and Jay and Natasha could instantly tell that those weren't real, as she had seen pictures of your younger years and the job being overall poorly done. As the three of them spread out and search the place, they quickly discover that it almost looks like a normal home, however as they take a closer look, their suspicion grows. Steve finds multiple weapons, some guns and also some weapons they had never seen before while Tony tries hacking into the computers to get as much information as possible. Natasha goes through your and Jay's belongings, eventually finding some clothes and nothing out of the ordinary at first. ,,Nat'' Steve calls out from the bathroom, having found a cracked tile in the bathroom behind the sink exposing a book.

,,The therapist said it was a good idea to write things down'' he begins reading out loud ,,My Husband.. Jay.. that feels weird to say. It's not right.. but he's nice'' Steve reads out loud, Natasha being able to recognise your handwriting in an instant. She can't help but scoff, feeling the anger bubbling inside of her. ,,Oh don't be jealous'' Steve tries joking to lift the mood, however Natasha can't seem to find any of this funny. With a swift motion she snatches the book from his hands, flipping through the pages, exposing drawings and more writing. ,,Guys we gotta go'' Tony calls, before Natasha slides the book into the inside of her vest. ,,Let's go'' Steve ushers, reaching for Natasha arms as she stands frozen in the hallway, staring at the fake photographs of you. ,,Did you get anything from that?'' the redhead asks as soon as they get back into the car, Steve the one driving this time. ,,Yes pulled it all, Friday found the base and locations, seems to be some type of organisation'' he explains before Natasha's heart sinks in her chest.

,,We need to go there now'' the redhead ushers before Steve and Tony glance at each other. ,,Give it a day or two, we need to plan this accordingly'' they try to convince her but she is having none of it. ,,She is there, they have her and probably brainwashed her'' she tries arguing before Steve speaks again ,,I know but Nat, she has been safe so far and if we do this wrong we may lose her again'' he speaks and this time she remains silent, knowing that he has got a point with this unfortunately. ,,Let us take you home'' they offer and Natasha remains silent, caught in a wave of painful memories and flashbacks with you, the guilt of this whole thing consuming her entire being. She should have protected you, should have prevented this, should have been by your side.

Almost aimlessly Natasha walks back into her home, ignoring the worried glances from both Cordelia and Wanda as they watch her walk inside. ,,Darling, what is it?'' the blonde tries, only finding the redhead looking right through her, her expression pale and they fear the worst. ,,Please tell me she's okay'' Wanda begs, having seen that same expression on people's faces before and knowing it didn't mean good news. Natasha snaps out of it as soon as she hears the fear in Wanda's voice ,,Yeah, let's sit'' she ushers almost a little absentmindedly still, before walking towards the kitchen table. They both remain silent, waiting for their lover to speak first and it takes a little while for the woman to compose herself and find the right words. ,,We found an adress'' she begins speaking before filling them in on what they had found, the assumption of an organisation behind this, your fake life, fake photographs. They both listen intently, the confusion, pain and grief written over their faces as the extend of the situation weighs in.

,,And I found this'' Natasha speaks, as she had been unsure whether to show them the book she had found. Cordelia is the first one to reach for it, skipping through the pages and reading over your words, her equally recognising your handwriting in an instant. Wanda watches as well, finding drawings of silhouettes ,,Wait that's us'' she speaks confused, before Cordelia reads a little further. ,,Yeah she has these dreams'' Natasha speaks, having read those pages earlier. Silence fills the room, the three of them still left in utter confusion, they had even doubted whether it was really you at the markets as you had been so adamant that your name was a different one but it all fades together as they recognise themselves in your drawings. ,,What have they done to her?'' Wanda sighs, her eyes quickly turning a dark shade of red as she is over washed by anger. ,,Do you have an adress?'' the scarlet witch asks and both Natasha and Cordelia look at her with shocked expressions.

,,Tony has all the data but we need to do this right'' Natasha tries, despite wanting nothing more than to run in there herself. ,,I want to go as well'' Wanda demands, feeling like she has been the least useful in all of this. ,,We'll do it together once it's time'' Natasha reassures, finding Cordelia's grateful smile meeting her as she knows she isn't part of the avengers of course but still wanting to be there for this and help. ,,We should get some rest and wait for further instructions from Tony tomorrow'' Natasha sighs after a while, slowly feeling the effects from today and the lack of sleep from the last few months finally catching up with her. Despite the comfort of being with each other and knowing that at least you are alive and they know where you are, neither of them find much sleep, Wanda mostly overtaken by anger at the people doing this to you, Cordelia deeply worried for your wellbeing and what this all would mean for you and Natasha going over and over the fake photos, as if they had been burnt into her memory.

It takes another couple of days before the avengers had gathered the information necessary. They managed to find the base where the operation was working from and after a debriefing with most of them, including Natasha, Wanda and Cordelia, they are finally ready to find you again. Tony had only agreed to let them join if the three of them stayed back and let them do the main job, and despite agreeing they all knew it wouldn't be that easy for your girlfriends to stand back. With swift motions, Tony manages to hack into the building, entering and most of the avengers taking care of some guards by the front. After getting towards the lower floor, they find a huge base, including weapons they had never seen before, countless vehicles and high end technology. It baffled them how they had missed this for so long but they stayed determined and focused, taking out the guards one by one, Natasha and Wanda leading Cordelia further into the base. It takes them a while until they finally find the man that had accompanied you before and Wanda's rage quickly takes over as she sends him flying to the nearest wall, lifting him in the air with her magic over and over again.

Cordelia physically has to stop Wanda before Natasha approaches the man, gripping him by the throat and lifting him into the air yet again before speaking ,,Where is she?'' she speaks, her eyes turning darker. ,,I have no idea what you are talking about'' he struggles with his words before Natasha's fist lands in his face, sending a wave of blood flying. ,,Y/N where is she?'' she demands again, raising her first in order to get him to speak. ,,Sure you'd like to know'' he smirks in a disgusting way before Natasha's hand squeezes his throat tighter. ,,I know you have been to our place'' he hisses and Wanda is quick to enter his mind, finding out the information that they needed before again sending him flying and dropping unconsciously to the nearest wall. ,,This way'' she ushers, being able to tell where they had been keeping you.

Together, with the avengers they find some back rooms, struggling to find you at first but Cordelia abruptly halts in her steps as she can hear your whimpering in her head through her telepathy, instantly causing for her heart to drop. ,,Over here'' she cries out, causing for all of them to rush into the room. Natasha finds you tied up on a chair, several computer screens around you, as you are hooked up to machines, some wires on your head and you slipping in and out of consciousness. ,,Oh my god'' Wanda cries, quickly running over before freeing you from the machines. ,,My god what have they done to you detka'' Natasha whispers, taking in your broken features. ,,We need to get her out of here and to med bay'' Steve encourages before Natasha takes you into her arms, quickly abandoning the rest of this mission and Wanda and Cordelia following the redhead and your almost lifeless frame to the nearest quinjet. ,,Stay here and finish this'' Natasha pleads with Tony and Steve and they are quick to agree, knowing it took more than this to stop this organisation altogether. ,,She'll pull through, she always does'' Steve encourages before they part ways.

And then within the weeks following, the real pain began as they slowly uncovered the organisations secrets, beginning to understand what they had done to you and how much you had suffered. They each struggled in their own ways, Wanda almost torn apart by her rage wanting nothing more than to kill the people responsible for this. Cordelia had been on the verge of losing it equally, abandoning her duties which was highly unlike her but she couldn't focus on anything else but you. Natasha tried to stay sane and calm, at least having you back with them, however it took every bit of strength and composure to be by your side and keeping Cordelia and Wanda safe in the process. It took a week in total for you to finally wake up and when you did, every single muscle in your body hurt, your brain felt fuzzy, your vision blurry and dizzy.

As you finally manage to open your eyes, you tense immediately, remembering what happened before you passed out, how mad Jay had been at you and forcing some medicine into you, how you had no idea what you had done wrong. Your heart rate slows as you catch a glimpse of the three women from your dreams again, quickly relaxing as you realise it's another dream and not your horrible reality. It's when Cordelia crouches down beside your bed, noticing you waking, her eyes filled with tears, when you realise this wasn't a dream as they never spoke in your dreams. ,,Y/N?'' her voice is soft and calm. ,,My name is Alex'' you quickly speak, despite the words coming out raspy and broken.

Your vision adjusts as you watch them glance between each other ,,It's not sweetie and deep down you know that'' the blonde again speaks softly and reassuringly. ,,I don't.. everything feels funny.. I don't understand'' you speak as tears fill your vision, everything feeling painful and overwhelming. ,,We got you back'' Natasha says, her voice hoarse. Their words get you thinking, the lack of memories, Jay hooking you up to machines, torturing you, the strange place, the life that felt fake and then suddenly these three who you had no memory of other from that one time and your dreams. And somehow they made sense, they felt more real than anything you could remember. ,,He wasn't really my husband was he?'' you whisper, chin wobbling and hands trembling as tears continue pouring. ,,No detka'' Wanda whispers. ,,But we...'' Cordelia begins ,,We're yours darling'' she speaks softly, almost reassuringly and you can't help the way she suddenly makes you feel calm, stopping the trembling of your hands, the wobbling of your chin and how she wipes your tears, for the first time in a long time making you feel safe and sound.

Slowly the days turned into weeks, the beginning spent with a lot of bed rest as they hated the idea of you leaving med bay too soon, however you had been cleared and so with your permission they took you home. Of course you had no idea what home was and it felt strange, entering the walls with photos of you everywhere alongside with the three women that you had gotten to know better as they had been sitting by your bed every day for weeks. Still, you couldn't tell whether it was another fake life, another organisation capturing you after you had learned what happened to you. You couldn't tell and a part of you felt like not trusting them, despite feeling a strange connection to them, especially due to your reoccurring dreams with them and your drawings. The first week after bringing you home, they had been increasingly worried as you stayed in the guest room most days, mostly sleeping and forgetting, rather entering the comfort of your dreams than the pain of reality. You barely ate, barely moved, barely talked as your past slowly came to haunt you each waking moment.

,,We need to help her'' Natasha speaks with an urgency in her voice as she again sits there with her two girlfriends for lunch, you sleeping through another meal, another day. ,,We need to give her time'' Cordelia tried arguing, knowing this must have been a lot to process. ,,I agree.. with Nat'' Wanda says, taking the blonde and redhead by surprise. ,,We can't let her waste away like this'' she huffs, fiddling with her rings due to her nerves. ,,I have an idea but I'll need her consent and yours'' and she didn't need to explain further for the other two to understand what she was implying. And so gently, they coaxed you from your shell, waking you gently and offering you some food before Wanda tried her approach carefully.

,,Darling, I would like to try something to help you and us'' she explains and you simply look into her eyes, feeling empty and hopeless at this point. ,,Do you trust me?'' she asks carefully and you freeze then. Did you trust them? They seemed so familiar and like your home but at the same time they are strangers, two avengers and two witches that could easily be tricking you, playing their own game. How could you ever trust anyone ever again? But something within you takes over, simply nodding your head before you watch her eyes turn a shade of red as her hand gently hovers on your forehead.

Wanda watches, seeing how you had left work that day , excitedly glancing at your phone before a truck approached at high speed, hitting you purposely before two men leave the truck, capturing you. Despite the memories being blurry, she manages to put it together, how they made you wake up in a hospital when in reality it was their base, how they had drugged you, given you details of a fake life, giving you several drugs and medications, serums to make you stronger. From what the avengers had discovered she manages to put it together at last, as her hands leaves your forehead, tears welling in her eyes. This had been their plan all along, to capture an avenger, to turn you into their super solider to destroy them, getting you to play along to this picture perfect life while trying to convince you to join their purpose. Only when they had realised that they had been caught on, they tried to go ahead but thankfully Natasha and the rest figured it out and found you in time.

,,I'm so sorry sweetie'' she whispers, having seen and felt every bit of your pain. Natasha and Cordelia watch in pain, not needing the details to know whatever happened must have been traumatic. You stay silent, unsure what to do or say before feeling a little fuzzy. Your brain feels on fire a little after feeling your memories, feeling Wanda entering your thoughts and memory. ,,Detka.. are you okay?'' Natasha asks, noticing the shift in your behaviour and how considerably pale you turned within seconds. ,,I'm tired'' you whisper before meeting their expressions. Cordelia gives you a sad, encouraging smile, giving you permission to go rest and you do, wanting nothing more than to sleep again, to forget, to enter your reoccurring dreams with them as it had been the only escape for you.

,,Wands what did you see?'' Natasha asks after watching you leave before the witch closes her eyes, sighing. ,,Pain.. great pain'' Wanda cries, her green eyes filled with tears. Cordelia frowns, gently reaching for the witches hand and holding onto it tight. ,,Tell us please'' Natasha encourages before the witch fills them in, telling them about the accident and what had happened since and they sit in shock listening to her words, wanting nothing more than to hold you, run to you and hold you in their arms. But they knew they couldn't, not until they somehow managed to get you back, get you to remember and back to them. ,,We need to help her remember us'' Natasha sighs before finding her two girlfriends agreeing in silence but their faces betray their anxiety and hopelessness about the success of making that happen.

Within the weeks following, the three of them try their best to include you more in every day things. Wanda had taken you for a picnic, Natasha to the place with the special view and to the avengers compound, gently showing you around and meeting the others in the hopes to spark your memories again. And slowly you did remember little things, mostly places and odd little details like where your old room had been before moving in with your girlfriends at the compound. Today, it had been Cordelia's turn and she offered to take you to the academy after finding a drawing of the mansion and you telling her how you remember a large white building with black iron fences and a gate. ,,Ready sweetheart?'' she asks gently, offering her hand to you and you taking it before following her inside.

Within the last few weeks you slowly learned to trust them, learning more about the people who you used to know everything about, every detail. You learned more about their life, how Wanda loved baking, Natasha appeared to be a badass on the outside but is in reality a huge softie and how truly kind and beautiful Cordelia truly was. As you follow her inside, you are greeted by the scent of vanilla and it reminds you of the supreme as whenever you had been around her lately she had smelt just like that. She leads you through a large hallway, you watching in awe of the marble and details that seem strangely familiar. She introduces you gently to some people who you had met before losing your memories, before leading you outside into the gardens and greenhouse.

The greenhouse had always been your sanctuary before everything fell down and changed, despite not being a witch yourself, often spending time there with Cordelia and the other witches, sitting in on some classes, Delia teaching you how to mix potions, watching her in awe of her magic and loving to be around the plants and atmosphere. ,,Does any of this feel familiar darling?'' she asks softly, watching as you carefully observe the little details. ,,Hmm..a little?'' you ask a little lost and helplessly, almost feeling bad for how they had tried and wanting to remember yourself as your old life they had told you about so much actually seemed beautiful. ,,I just need to take care of some things in my office, would you like to join me?'' she asks slowly, drawing you away from your thoughts but you shake your head. ,,I think I'll stay here for a bit if that's okay?'' you ask and she simply gives you a warm smile before leaving you be.

For a while you spend some time alone, simply taking in the atmosphere before growing a little curious and skipping through some books that had been left from classes before. When Cordelia returns, she watches you sitting on one of the tables, your legs dangling down the side while reading one of the books and she can't help but linger by the doorframe for a minute, as she had found you like this so many times and despite the bitterness of it all, she can't help but feel grateful to have you back. ,,Hi there'' she smiles warmly before approaching you. ,,Hi'' you whisper a little shy before closing the book. ,,I'm all done sweetheart, would you like to go back home?'' she asks, wanting to make sure this isn't too much for you. ,,Um sure'' you mumble and she can notice your hesitation. ,,What is it?'' she asks a little concerned before you speak again ,,Cordelia, you're a witch right?'' you ask, despite knowing the answer to this. ,,But you're also like really powerful right?'' you ask before she nods a little confused.

,,Can you make me remember?'' you whisper, tears filling your eyes as you want nothing more than to remember the life they keep telling you about. Cordelia sighs a little before her gaze drops to the floor. They had tried within the last weeks, both her and Wanda with their magic but you ever only seemed to remember small bits and she didn't want to fail you again. ,,I can try again darling but I'm not sure if it will work'' she explains as her brown eyes meet yours. ,,Please'' you beg with tears glistening in your eyes again. ,,But please make it the real ones'' you plead and Cordelia's eyes close in pain from listening to your statement. ,,I promise, you can trust me'' she encourages before reaching for both of your hands, holding them gently before closing her eyes and resting her forehead gently on yours. You listen as she speaks some latin words, not the ones from before that she tried with Wanda before everything stops for a moment.

As the supreme opens her eyes again and moves away a little, she sighs, assuming it didn't work again before your eyes abruptly open. ,,I'm sorry darling, I'm sure we can do this, it just needs time'' she tries, feeling guilty. ,,De-Delia?'' you whisper before looking up to meet her brown eyes. And that's it, enough for the woman to understand that it worked, as you hadn't called her the nickname in months. Your eyes sparkle in that exact same way they had before all of this happened, and instantly both of your eyes fill with tears, as you clutch to your lover. Somehow, Cordelia's magic had worked, maybe it was the different spell she used, maybe it was the last puzzle piece after remembering slowly, the drawings, the dreams all finally making sense and blending in together. Almost like a little movie you watched your life from before as everything blended in again, the accident, being captured, losing your memories before they had found you. ,,I'm so sorry, I wanted to come home after work, I was so excited to see you three'' you apologise.

Cordelia shakes her head at your statement, gently cupping your cheeks ,,My sweet girl, none of this is your fault ever'' she explains sternly, wanting to make sure you understand her every word. ,,Thank you for giving me my memories back'' you thank her before your lips capture hers in a kiss. ,,Can we please go home?'' you beg under tears, wanting nothing more than to be back in the embrace of your lovers. ,,Of course my sweet girl.. come on'' she encourages, before taking your hand and leading you back home. As soon as the front door opens, you burst inside, watching Wanda baking in the kitchen, Natasha sitting nearby reading on her laptop. ,,Hi you two, how was it?'' the ginger witch asks as you stand there frozen almost. ,,Wands.. Nat?'' you whisper as tears again fill your vision. Wanda drops the spoon on the floor, Natasha instantly abandoning her work as they take a look at you, instantly picking up the nicknames, the shift in your voice and features.

,,I remember.. I remember it all'' you cry, before Natasha runs up to you, Wanda quickly behind. The redhead picks you up, hugging you tight before spinning you around a little ,,Oh detka'' she smiles before kissing your forehead. ,,Malishka'' Wanda smiles with tears before planting kisses all over your face and taking you into her arms. ,,What happened?'' Natasha turns to Cordelia in confusion. ,,She wanted to remember so I tried a different spell and it worked'' the supreme explains before Natasha smiles, despite the shock written across her face. ,,Thank you'' she thanks the supreme, her features serious. ,,You brought her home after all'' the blonde reminds the black widow. ,,I'm so relieved baby girl'' Wanda whispers, still not having let go of you. ,,Is there anything you want, anything we can do for you darling?'' Cordelia asks, despite the relief and gratitude, still knowing you had to go a long way to recover from the emotional and physical trauma you had endured.

,,I-'' you begin but quickly stop yourself as you glance around. ,,I really just want to cuddle'' you whisper with puppy eyes and their faces melt almost in the same way. ,,You can have all the cuddles sweetie'' Wanda smiles before Natasha chuckles a little. In a swift motion she picks you up as you dangle over her shoulder, Cordelia and Wanda chuckling as they follow. ,,Let's get you into bed and all the cuddles you deserve'' the redhead announces as your giggles fill the apartment. And at last, despite the days turning into weeks and weeks turning into months they had managed to finally get their detka back, finally make you remember and have you right back where you belong, in their loving, strong and steady arms.

[breadbrobin]

the bet

part three

cedric diggory x reader — harry potter

[fem!best friend reader]

summary: for once, losing a bet might be a good thing.

warnings: kissing, quite a lot of swearing, betting/gambling, mentions of underage drinking, minor suggestive content, GOD they’re so in love it’s stupid, i think i’m a comedian (i’m not), switched from an x oc story so might have a few mistakes oops, mediocre writing (again i wrote this years ago and this is the worst part i think)

word count: 1.7k

(let’s not talk ab how long it took me to put this up and instead i’ll tell you about how i went away with my friends and may or may not have completely forgotten about this lil series oopssss anyways this is the last part and it’s my favourite i love it so muchhhh enjoy 😘)

part one

part two

——————————————

The Rainy Days

Neither you or Cedric had brought up what he’d said that night, but it hung in the air between you, stagnant and stiff, leaving awkwardness to rest in the growing distance.

It was odd, you realised. One moment, you were closer than ever before, hugging for a second too long, soft touches as hands brushed, then the next, you were sitting at opposite ends of a metaphorical couch, shooting furtive glances at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking.

It was confusing, and you were conflicted.

You almost wanted to bring it up. You knew he remembered, that much was clear. It was obvious in the subtlest of looks, the gentlest of touches, the softest of smiles. But sometimes, it would leap to the forefront of his mind and, cheeks red, eyes downcast, he would retreat into himself.

And so, neither you or Cedric brought it up.

No matter how much you may have wanted to.

The days passed in almost comfortable normalcy.

There were no trips to the lake or the town, just sitting and enjoying each other’s company.

You and Cordelia taught him how to play Last Card on a thundery Tuesday, all pouting out the window at the storm.

“I hate thunder,” Cedric shuddered. “It’s the worst to play Quidditch in too.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to play in thunder,” you huffed, collecting the cards after he won again. “I mean, lightning strikes the highest object, right? And look what happened to Harry last season.”

“Yeah, that was horrible,” he cringed, taking the cards from her and shuffling them. “Although that was the Dementors too.”

You pulled a face. “Still not an excuse. It really isn’t safe.”

Cordelia looked between you in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You remember Quidditch, right?” Cedric asked. “On the broomsticks.”

She nodded slowly. “Did you know that witches riding broomsticks used to be a euphemism for riding the devil’s—”

“—Oh-kay, that’s enough cards for today!” You cut in. “Cords, why don’t you go grab a board game, yeah?”

“Okay!” she chirped, dancing off upstairs.

You breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in your chair.

Cedric shot you an amused look.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

When you saw a person running towards your house without an umbrella in the pouring rain, you assumed they were an idiot.

Then the figure got closer and you realised that it was your idiot.

“God, Cedric, you dipshit,” you whispered, dropping the knife you was using to butter your toast on the bench and running to the door, grabbing a towel from a clean pile on the way.

You opened the door just as he reached the front steps, having to grip onto the handle tight so that the wind didn’t rip it from its hinges.

“What are you doing?” you asked over the downpour, letting him inside and handing him the towel.

“I swear it didn’t start raining until I was halfway here.” His teeth were chattering. “Gotta love English weather.”

You shook your head in defeat. “Shut up and go take a hot shower. I’ll bring you something to wear.”

He didn’t even move to object, shuffling towards the bathroom instantly.

You left a bundle of warm clothes outside the door and sat on the couch with your toast to wait.

Thankfully, you weren’t alone with your thoughts for very long.

Cedric padded into the room with his hair wet and messy and in a hoodie and sweatpants that he’d left at your house a few weeks before. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Are you okay?” you handed him a blanket and a piece of warm toast as he sat down next to you.

He nodded. He looked significantly less cold than before. “Merlin, the last time I was this cold was when you pushed me into the Black Lake.”

“I didn’t push you, you slipped.”

“Yeah, right,” he huddled closer to you, making her tense up briefly. The last time you were this close on the couch…

“Hey, Y/N…” he said quietly after a few beats.

“Hm?”

“About that night—”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to—”

“No, I think we should—”

“Cedric,” you said firmly. “Don’t worry about it. We were drunk. It’s okay.”

He paused, studying you like he was committing all of your features to memory. You knew you were doing that for him. “Okay.”

You sat in silence, watching the rain stream down the window.

The Confession

You had a confession to make.

First, to yourself: you liked Cedric—No. You were in love with Cedric.

It was the way he said your name like it was made of porcelain, fragile, delicate. It was the way your bodies fit perfectly together when you hugged, your bodies and hands made for holding each other. It was the way he looked at you, that night and every day since; like you’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. It was the way he made you feel safe.

Was that so difficult?

Yes, a nagging voice in the back of your mind muttered. You’re going to be twenty galleons more broke because of your stupid feelings.

Maybe, you countered it. But I don’t even care anymore.

Your next confession would be to Cedric. That was slightly more difficult.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have the opportunity; you were almost always at each other’s houses. It was more to do with the issue of you being too scared. You shied away from admitting it every time you thought you were ready, pushing your feelings down and down until they were compressed under a pile of anxiety.

So, the confession was going well. Really well.

You stole another glance at him across the room, peering over your book to find him already staring at you. You withheld a squeak and looked back down, sinking lower into your end of the couch.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked, slipping a bookmark between the pages and setting his book on the end table.

“What is what?” You didn’t take her eyes off your book, pretending to read with your eyes locked on one phrase: ‘I love you.’

Is it that easy? You asked yourself. I just say it?

Cedric leaned forward and pushed your book down. “Well, either that page is very interesting or you suddenly can’t read, because you haven’t turned the page in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m absorbing it properly,” you lifted it back up but he pushed it down again.

“Absorbing it, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Well, my other thought was that you were so distracted staring at me every five seconds that you forgot to actually read.”

You dropped your book, struggling to catch it and sending it careening onto the floor. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him. “No.”

He was smiling, that soft, almost smug smile that you’d fallen in love with. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh, because from here, it looked like you were staring at me.”

You sat up straight. “Really? How odd.”

“Hmm…” he smiled a bit brighter. God, you wanted to kiss him. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

You breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as he leaned back.

“Shame, because I was actually quite flattered.”

“Oh, I bet you were,” you scoffed.

He leaned back into the couch, opening his book agonisingly slow.

You stared at him, legs crossed and brows furrowed. Your head was swirling with thoughts, all repeating, Cedric, Cedric, Cedric. You’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad, to just hold someone. You’d never, ever in your life, wanted to lose a bet.

His grey eyes flickered up to you once, then twice, then again. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, what the fuck,” you muttered, pushing yourself forward and pressing your lips to his.

He dropped his book, the hardback thudding dully on the floor right next to yours, but neither of you cared. His hands found their place on your waist as you leaned over him, one arm supporting you on the wall behind him, the other entangled in his brown hair.

Butterflies danced in your stomach, your heart racing wildly as your lips melded together. It was like they were made to kiss each other; the way they fit so perfectly, the curve of your cheek and the straight line of his nose. All of your swirling thoughts subsided, leaving only one: Cedric.

God, you never wanted to stop kissing him. He was like sugar; tantalising, sweet, addictive.

He pulled away first, thumb digging subtly into your hip, lips parted and gasping for air. “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, unable to find your voice. “But I couldn’t wait another—”

He kissed you again, more passionate; noses knocking, hearts pounding, hair standing on end. You wondered how you got so lucky. God, you were lucky.

This kiss was more intense, all those weeks of pent up emotion, released in that moment.

You never wanted it to end.

But, as your lungs gasped for air and your head began to swim, you pulled away. He chased your lips, pressing a final, sweet kiss to them, before resting his head back again.

“Never apologise for that,” he breathed. “Never.”

“Got it,” you whispered, eyes tracing a pattern in his faint freckles. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“Amazing at kissing?” he tilted his head.

“Just amazing in general.” You kissed him again. And if you stayed on that couch all afternoon? Well that was no one’s business but your own.

The Pay-Up

You had twenty galleons ready the second you set foot on the Hogwarts Train only a few weeks later. Cedric was holding your free hand as you wove past loitering students and nervous first years until you found Lizzie and Camila.

“Hey, Morgan, Cedric,” Lizzie raised her eyebrow at you.

Camila saw your connected hands and started prodding her arm.

“Hey, guys,” you smiled brightly. “Just paying up.”

You tossed Lizzie the bag of galleons and turned to Camila. “Sorry, I made the first move.”

“Liar,” she pointed at you. “Cedric, please tell me she’s lying.”

“Nope,” he let your hand go and wrapped it around your waist instead. “She kissed me first.”

Camila groaned, digging through her bag. “Fuck.”

As Lizzie danced in victory and Camila complained about you finding your balls, you had to admit, you had never been happier to lose a bet.

cedric taglist:

@sunburnhurts

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

When I play Awakening I MUST pair Cordelia with Virion, so Severa ends up looking like Hatsune Miku. I can't use Severa if she doesn't look like Miku

Say I’m the best and bow to your princess #1 / You should know I get my way, all morning, noon, night and, day, okay?