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secretswiftymarvelfan · 4 months

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Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 3)

Summary: Despite Chris telling you to back off there's undeniable chemistry that both of you are struggling to ignore

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! Language! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! Masturbation! SMUT! 18 + ONLY! MINORS DNI!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 3

You let out a long sigh as you shimmied into the 5th bridesmaid dress that Tommi had sent over to you to try on. Once it was mostly up you grabbed the string you had attached to the zipper and pulled it up to zip yourself in, a little trick you’d learnt after living alone for a few years. You then stepped back into the view of Tommi who was watching through your laptop screen.

“Hmm I don’t think I like that one as much as the others, the neckline doesn’t look quite right” she hummed as she assessed the dress.

“Yeah I’ve never been a fan of strapless” you added as you tugged the bodice of the dress up higher “This dress does make my ass look good though” you smirked, twisting to show off all the work the dress was doing.

“You can say that again” Tommi whistled “Still doesn’t beat dress number 3 though”

“Yeah same, that one’s my favourite” you agreed “How many more are there?” you asked glancing over to the large box which she’d sent over to you containing all the different dresses.

“Just two more” Tommi answered “I know 7 is a little overkill but I just wanted you to have a dress you definitely liked, especially as my maid of honour”

“Yeah, yeah I know it's okay” you sighed tiredly, scratching your forehead “So is this going in the no pile?” you asked dropping your arm to gesture at the dress you were currently wearing.

“Yeah let's ditch that one” Tommi confirmed with a nod of her head.

You let out another long tired sigh before stepping away to undress and put on the 6th dress.

“Hey is everything okay? We can call it a day if you wanna?” you heard Tommi call out.

You shook your head and stepped back into frame “Nah it’s alright, just been a long week that’s all”

“It’s Wednesday” Tommi frowned.

“Exactly a long ass week” you grumbled as you step back, take off the dress and toss it into the no pile with the 4 other dresses.

“Not as fun working with your dad as you thought?” Tommi asked as you changed into the sixth dress.

“No it’s not that,” you said zipping up the dress and stepping back into the frame “Chris has just a bit… I dunno…”

“A dick? Asshole?” Tommi supplied making you shake your head.

“No, not really, a bit dickish but not majorly” you defended.

Tommi frowns “Right… so what’s happened since Sunday and now?” she asked.

“Well apparently he didn’t realise I was the coach’s daughter, got all pissed that I’d hidden it from him” you explained.

“Did you?” Tommi frowned.

“No, well I didn’t outright tell him who my dad was because there wasn’t really the opportunity but I gave him enough to connect the dots, I assumed he already knew” you explained with a shrug of your shoulders “Yeah I should have probably made it clearer but who cares who my dad is? We’re grown adults!”

Tommi nodded “What else did he say?”

“That he wouldn’t have slept with me if he’d known, all because my dad said no one on the team is allowed to date me” you sighed.

Tommi took a deep breath as she nodded her head slowly “Well… at least you cut it off before it got any further, one time can be played as a mistake” you just hummed in response, not quite willing to admit that you still offered him more “wait, what did that hum mean?” Tommi asked and you cursed under your breath.

“Can you stop it with your empath vibe checker thing” you groaned in annoyance rolling your eyes.

“It’s not that, I’m just know you too well, so c’mon get it out otherwise it’ll just fester,” Tommi said with a knowing look.

You let out a long sigh as you repositioned your laptop so you could sit down on your bed “All I did was point out that my dad said no dating, and casual sex isn’t dating”

“No but it’ll get messy if you keep seeing him, I’m sorry but I agree with Chris on this one, you need to move on a find someone else” Tommi said gently.

“I know but fuck I just can’t seem to stop myself from thinking about him, it's like I’ve got this itch that only he can scratch” you explained.

“I think you might need to get that checked out” Tommi smirked pulling a snort of laughter from you.

“You know what I mean, there’s just something there like a magnetic force that keeps pulling me in and I know I shouldn’t but the words were just out of my mouth before I could stop it” you told her.

“I get that” Tommi nodded “but maybe you just need to find someone else to scratch that itch, someone where the possibility of it blowing up in your face is smaller” she suggested.

“Yeah, the team are playing at home again this weekend so I could probably find someone after the match again” you hummed as your fingers mindlessly fidgeted in your lap “It's just… I think what my mind keeps coming back to and part of why I feel that pull is the way Chris has behaved suggests he’s a really good guy”

“Even though he was a bit of a dick after he found out?” Tommi frowned.

“Yeah, but it must have been a bit of a shock to find that out so it’s gonna be justified, and you know he cares about what my dad thinks, anyone else who was a dick wouldn’t have cared, he does” you explained “which just makes me think it might not blow up in my face”

“Yeah… that is true but it still might and even if you did end things amicably there’s still gonna be that awkwardness and do you really wanna risk that?” Tommi said with a gentle sigh “Look I think right now you just need to focus on you, and your job and just be happy with yourself, do what you want”

“Yeah maybe you’re right” you admitted despite it feeling so, so wrong, especially since what you wanted was Chris.

“You’ll find someone else, someone who’s not a dick and isn’t gonna cause unnecessary drama,” Tommi said with a reassuring smile.

You nodded “Thanks Tommi,” you said before standing back up “This dress is a definite no, it digs in when you sit down and while I plan to do a lot of dancing at your wedding, I can not not sit down”

Tommi let out a loud laugh nodding her head “Okay, another one for the no pile, so unless number Seven is a miracle dress, number three it is”

“They do say three is the magic number” you winked making Tommi laugh even louder.

Like predicted dress number three was the winner so you packed the rest back into the box ready to be shipped back to Tommi so she could return them. The two of you then ended up spending another hour or so catching up, talking a little more about the wedding before you finally had to call it a night.

You felt exhausted when you climbed into bed. Today’s training session hadn’t gone well at all, all the players were playing well individually but their cohesion was gone. They were a completely different team than what you saw on Saturday. It meant more minor injuries were cropping up like jarred fingers that needed strapping.

Chris seemed to be the worst though as he missed countless number of passes and tackles, it was like his mind was switching off periodically. Part of you wondered and maybe hoped it was because of you. That maybe you were on his mind just like he was on yours. Another part of you was worried if that was the case because Chris was right about needing to focus on the Championship.

Despite how tired you were you just couldn’t get comfortable and your mind just wouldn’t turn off. Chris was once again on your mind, first you were just revisiting the encounters you had and wondering how you could have played them differently. Which then turned into daydreams about what you’d do and say if something similar happened again, which just turned into straight-up fantasies.

Fantasies like what if Chris had taken you up on that offer in the medical room. Would he have bent you over the medical bed and taken you from behind? Or would he have lifted you up onto the counter and taken you there? You honestly couldn’t decide which you’d want more.

If he took you from behind you’d feel his hips slapping against your ass, he could take full advantage of your ass, grab it, spank it. He could wrap his hand around your hair, tugging it, pulling you back to make the angle even more delicious.

If he took you on the counter though, he’d have full access to your chest again. Your top would be ripped off as soon as possible, your bra discarded too. One hand could grip your hip to keep you where he wanted, the other would be massaging and squeezing your breast. His callused fingertips playing with your peak, pinching and twisting. He’d give your other breast equal attention with his mouth, using his tongue and teeth to pull you to your peak.

You could feel the heat pooling at your core at just the thought of Chris. You tried to just think it away and not scratch that itch but it was impossible. Soon enough your hand slipped under your sleep shorts and you felt just how turned on you were just at the thought of him. You couldn’t recall a time you’d been this turned on at the thought of someone.

Just the feeling of your fingertips running up and down your core brought relief while also making the pressure ten times more intense. You increased the pressure, bringing your fingers up to your clit, swirling them around the sensitive nub, gasping when you pinched it between your fingers.

Feeling the needy ache inside you, you slipped your fingers down to your entrance, biting your lip to hide a moan when you slipped your fingers inside yourself. You knew almost immediately your fingers alone would not be enough. You gave yourself a few pumps, pressing the heel of your palm against your clit but it just wasn’t enough. You needed the thickness of Chris’ fingers, the thickness of his cock.

In desperation you grabbed your vibrator from your drawer. Your shorts thrown haphazardly across the room to give you more room to work with. You instantly turned it on and pressed it against your core, a moaning curse escaping your lips. The memory of Chris doing the exact same thing played in your mind, the way he teased you and made you beg.

The memory alone meant you were precariously close to the edge when you finally pushed the vibrator inside. Usually, you found yourself still having to work yourself up, only ever finding your peak with the highest setting, but just the thought of Chris had you nearly coming on the lowest.

You wanted to find relief, but you needed this to last longer. You took a couple of calming breaths, bringing yourself back down from that cliff edge. When you felt ready again you began playing with yourself once more, hands roaming over your body.

Your mind kept coming back to Chris which just made your need even more intense. So much so that even though you wanted to pace yourself you turned up your vibrator to a higher setting, a loud moan escaping your lips when you did so.

Not knowing how thin your walls were and not wanting to disturb your neighbours you rolled over onto your stomach so your pillow could muffle your moans. The new position did wonders as you then pictured Chris taking you like this, the way his weight would push you down into the mattress as he pounded you from behind.

Your hips instinctively bucked up off the mattress as if he was there, as if you were moving to meet his thrusts. Your fantasy was so vivid it was like you could feel his presence in the room, smell his aftershave in the air.

You moved up onto your knees, head still against the pillow as you picture him lifting your hips up. His fingers leaving marks on your hips as he gripped onto you. You once again turned up the intensity of your vibrator, your whole body moving as you pumped it inside you, chanting Chris’ name like a prayer. The chanting became a scream when you hit your peak, the noise drowned out as you buried your head in your pillow.

Your legs felt weak so you rolled back onto your back, your chest heaving as you came down from your high, the vibrator still buzzing inside you. The image of Chris hitting his own peak flashed through your mind. The moan that escaped his lips, the blissed-out look on his face. You were caught by surprise when a second orgasm rolled through your body just because of the mental image of Chris hitting his peak.

When you finally recovered you quickly turned your vibrator off and set it aside. Your chest was still heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You had never had an experience like that on your own, never been able to give yourself two orgasms. You knew it was all because you were picturing and wanting Chris.

Even though you agreed with Tommi that pursuing something with him could lead to disaster, you knew that even if you did find someone else you’d be comparing them to Chris and it would just lead to disappointment. Chris had officially ruined you.

Chris was screwed. So, so screwed. All week he’d been off his game, at first he could blame it on his sore leg holding him back but thanks to your stretches that was sorted by Tuesday. He had no excuse for the rest of the week.

In the gym sessions, he wasn’t able to work at his usual level, benching far below his average. When he got questioned on it he just lied and said he was playing it safe this week. When truthfully he wasn’t physically able to lift any heavier.

In training sessions when they went over drills he wasn’t able to hit as hard or take as many hits. His passes were slow or off target leaving the rest of the team to pick up the pieces. He could see the frustration on their faces when they had to scramble to collect the ball, he understood how they were feeling because he was feeling it too.

He tried everything he could to get his head back in the game. He stayed late in training sessions, running drills solo. He tried meditating to clear his mind but it was impossible because there was always one thing on his mind.

You.

Even when he didn’t see you at training you would find a way back into his mind. His mind kept going back to when he confronted you in the medical room and despite how pissed he was he was one move away from initiating round two. Your offer replayed in his mind, reminding him of the loophole, tempting him.

He couldn’t give in to temptation though. There was too much on the line for that. Every time he considered it he just told himself that he needed a release. It was worse at night when the world was quiet and his brain could get loud. So every night he found himself jerking off to give him that release he was clearly craving. He’d try not to picture you but it was near impossible, each time he’d picture a new fantasy each one getting more vivid and intense than the last. So much so that last night even after he brought himself to orgasm he still felt the intense need for release.

He just hoped that on gameday everything would click back into place and he could focus on the game. As he walked into the stadium he followed his usual pre-game routine. He had his headphones in, head down as he walked through the corridors to the changing room, ignoring the photographer who was capturing the team's arrival.

In the changing room, he kept to himself as he changed into his kit. He was lucky that he was even picked to play following his awful performance, he hoped that it was because Coach Y/L/N still believed in him and not because he wanted to lie about an injury during training.

Once he was ready he just sat in his cubby and mentally ran through drills, picturing the Chicago Knights recalling all their weaknesses he’d noticed during analysis sessions. As the rest of the team arrived he gave them small nods of greeting before returning his mind back to the game ahead.

When it was time to go out onto the field he felt more confident than he did this morning. He had yet to see you though which he worried was the reason why. He knew he’d regret it but when he walked out onto the pitch he glanced over to the bench and that’s when he saw you talking with the other medics. He managed to catch your eye, he watched as you studied him for a moment with an unreadable expression on your face before returning your attention back to your conversation.

Your complete dismissal of him left a strange feeling in his stomach. He was fighting the urge to walk over and say something. He didn’t know what he wanted to say but he just knew he wanted to be next to you. Thankfully he was snapped out of that train of thought when Ari slapped him hard on the shoulder.

The confidence Chris had built was all but gone when they started warm-ups and drills. He wasn’t playing as bad as he had during the week but he wasn’t playing well at all. When he went aside to practice his kicks his accuracy was completely shot. Angles that he usually found easy were now near impossible and he could hear the murmurings of the crowd behind him.

When warm-ups were done the team gathered for their usual huddle. While the coaches gave their usual talks Chris worked on emptying his mind, so much so that he didn’t notice it was his turn to talk until Jensen patted his shoulder to get his attention.

“Sorry” Chris muttered shaking his head “We’ve had a tough week, all of us, some more than others, but we need to put that behind us and focus on the here and now” Chris started looking around at the team “we beat the knights earlier this season on their turf, we can beat them again on ours, think positively and think clearly, they’ve got something to prove so they’re gonna hit us hard so be prepared, we can win this and we will win this,” he said trying to convince himself more than anything.

Thankfully the team didn’t seem to notice his lack of confidence as they nodded along and did their usual cheer in confirmation before heading back into the changing rooms ready to start the match. As Chris followed behind them he once again spared a glance in your direction, you met his gaze once more but instead of looking away, you gave him the smallest of nods. Chris was surprised to feel it settle him slightly, he didn’t allow himself to think about it though as he shook his head and walked back through the tunnel.

Any confidence Chris had that the team were gonna win this match was shredded pretty quickly into the first half and it was all Chris’ fault. The other players were playing well, they’d taken what he said on board and put everything behind them, it was him who was letting them down.

He missed so many passes, fumbled the ball and knocked it on. So far almost all the penalties in the game were because of his mistakes. At one point he seemed to almost completely switch off and missed a tackle allowing the knights to break free, if it wasn’t for Johnny’s speed and tap tackle they would have scored.

He was bringing the team down with him, any play he tried to make was the wrong call. He was making poor choices and the scoreboard reflected that. All he could hear was the crowd complaining whenever something went wrong.

Needless to say, Coach Y/L/N was not impressed when it was finally half-time and the team made their way back into the changing rooms. Chris had only just sat down in his cubby when the coach marched in, a look of thunder on his face.

“What the hell is going on out there Evans!” he demanded.

Chris tried to find a reason to explain it all but he couldn’t so he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head “I-I dunno coach, I’m sorry… I think I’m just in my head” he apologised.

“It’s not good enough Evans! You’re off for the rest of the match, Levinson you’re captain for the second half” Coach Y/L/N ordered.

“Yes sir” Ari muttered glancing over at Chris whose jaw had dropped.

“No sir I’m fine! I’ll play better I promise” Chris reasoned not liking that he was being dropped mid-game.

“You’re lucky you even played today Evans and you know it!” Coach snapped “We need to win this match and then we have a two-week break, use that time to get your head on straight, I don’t care how you do it, just sort it out”

Chris let out a defeated sigh and nodded his head “Yes sir”.

Chris zoned out for the rest of the team talk, just shrugging on his jacket to keep him warm just in case he needed to go back on. He doubted it though, the only reason he’d go back on now was if there were enough injuries that the coach had no choice.

Once half-time was over Chris followed the rest of the team back out, except he took a turn to sit down on the bench instead of following them onto the pitch. He let out a long sigh as he sat down he glanced over to the side and saw you stood with the other medics ready to run on at a moment's notice. Chris instantly shifted in his seat knowing you were now only a short distance away from him. This was gonna be a long second half.

You usually watched a match pretty intensely because you had to spot when a player was stubbornly trying to play on when really they needed some medical attention. But today you refused to take your eyes on the pitch unless you absolutely had to. Mostly because all you could feel was Chris’ eyes on your back and you didn’t want to find out whether he was glaring daggers at you or not.

He was seriously off his game and you couldn’t help but feel like you were to blame and you didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, you really didn’t want him to be off his game, and you didn’t like that you were the reason especially if it was pissing him off. But… on the other hand, a part of you liked that you had gotten into his head, that you were affecting him as much as he was affecting you.

Curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. Only to find him watching you with his jaw clenched and shoulders tight. The look on his face was not one of want it was one of irritation. Yep, he was pissed off at you, curiosity killed this cat so you whipped back around to focus on the game.

Thankfully there were only 20 minutes left of the match and you could head home and get away from this. There was definitely no chance with Chris and you needed to accept that fact. If it required a pint of ice cream and a gallon of wine then that’s what you’d do.

You were just making your non-break-up-break-up recovery plan when you noticed Johnny get up from a tackle limping. You grabbed your bag and ran onto the pitch to meet him and made him sit down to get the weight off his leg.

“Hey, hey sit down before you make it worse” you said wrapping your hand around his arm to stop him.

Johnny flashed you a lopsided smile before nodding “Sure thing” he agreed sitting himself down “It’s my ankle, just needs strapping”

“Sure not a problem,” you said passing him a water bottle before grabbing some tape from your bag.

As you worked you could feel Johnny watching you and when you glanced up you saw his trademark boyish smirk “I have to say you pull off that orange medic bib well, not many do” he said.

Your eyes narrowed as you studied Storm “What are you doing?”

“Flirting with you,” he said without missing a beat.

“Did you not hear my father’s warning?” You asked him returning your attention to his ankle.

“Oh I did, but Evans is off his game and jealousy never fails to give someone that push” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders “We’ve got a championship to win, we don’t need a Captain who’s distracted because he’s not allowing himself the action he wants”

You swallowed nervously “he told you about that?” You ask trying not to sound too scared at the prospect.

“No it’s none of my business, I’d just heard he’d left the bar with a girl last weekend, didn’t know it was you until I saw the look on his face when you walked in on Monday” Johnny explained.

“What look?” You asked tilting your head slightly.

“The look of running into a hookup unexpectedly, trust me it's a look I know well, I also know the look on your face whenever you look at him,” Johnny said pointing at you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” You scoffed.

“The one that says you’re lost in whatever dirty daydream he’s currently starring in,” Johnny said knowingly.

“Yeah well he’s made it pretty clear that it's not gonna happen” you huffed as you put the tape back in your bag and passed him a water bottle.

“Nah he’s close to cracking, trust me” Johnny said with a shake of his head “So tell me do you want to get into bed again with the captain?” he asked with a knowing look.

You bit your lower lip as you considered it. The voice of Tommi flashed through your mind telling you it was a good idea that Chris cut things off. You can’t get hurt if you don’t get involved. But no matter how many times you told yourself that you just couldn’t get the craving to go.

“Yes,” you whispered nodding your head.

The grin on Johnny’s face grew “So let me help you, and in turn, help the team” You don’t say anything except arch a brow and a lopsided grin grows on his face “all you need to do is laugh, smile at me and maybe send me on my way with a touch to the arm”

You glanced towards the sidelines where Chris was watching from his spot on the bench. Even from this distance, you could tell his expression was stormy and it wasn’t because he’d been taken off early. His gaze was set solely on you and Johhny.

“Alright, deal,” you said holding out your hand to help Johnny to his feet.

“Perfect, and in return you can give me the number of your sister if you have one” Johnny smirked.

You laughed at that “I like you Storm but even if I had a sister it would be a no” you chuckled.

“Hot single friend?” He asked hopefully making you laugh even more, not even needing to fake it.

“Focus on the Rugby,” you told him, touching his bicep as you stepped away back towards the sideline.

As you walked back your gaze met Chris’ whose face had turned even stormier. He quickly adverted his gaze, only to glare daggers at Johhny. It was a good thing that he’d been taken off because by the look in his eyes, he’d probably tackle Johnny himself.

Thankfully for the team, the Bears managed to claw back the scoreboard and beat the knights so the team were in high spirits when they returned to the changing room, with the exception of Chris who was still being broody.

You were stood in the corner with the rest of the medical team while your dad gave his usual post-match speech and they all celebrated. When there was a break you caught Johnny asking you to come over to his cubby with a beckoning finger.

“Hey what’s up? Ankle okay?” you asked him as you crouched down to examine his ankle.

He pulled it away though and leaned forward so he could whisper to you “It's fine, ready to execute phase two of our plan?”

“Phase two? I didn’t realise this was a multiphase plan” you said tilting your head.

“We’ll use as many phases as needed” Johnny smirked “So what’s gonna happen is I’m gonna loudly invite you out to celebrate with us tonight”

“Like a date?” you asked.

“Sure, but you’re gonna turn me down and say maybe another time” Johnny explained.

You let out a small snort of laughter “Are you sure your ego can take that?” you smirked.

“It's a risk I’m willing to take, all we’re doing is confirming to Evans that he still has a chance but he has to act fast” Johnny elaborated “You’re gonna say that all you want is a night at home”

“So he knows where to find me” you realised.

Johnny winked “Exactly, so get yourself home and put on some of your cute cosies you girls have, the ones that say you weren’t expecting visitors but will still send his blood south” he smirked.

You let out a loud warm laugh at that, shaking your head at him “I like you Storm” you chuckled happy to know you had at least one friend on this team.

“Everybody does, now you get home and get some” Johnny winked.

As soon as you could you made your way home. You figured you had a bit of time to have a shower to freshen up and make sure you were ready for if and when Chris decided to show up. You then did as Johnny said and got into your best-looking cosies which consisted of a fluffy crop top and leggings.

Then all you had to do was wait.

And wait. And wait.

You waited for so long that you were really starting to doubt Johnny’s plan. What if Chris had decided to go out with the team? Would Johnny try and convince him to go home? What if Chris decided to find someone else, did what Tommi suggested you do?

You needed something to drink. Opening the fridge you let out an irritated groan when you discovered that you were out of beer, all you had was a bottle of white wine which was not your preferred drink. It would have to though so you grabbed the bottle and poured yourself a large glass.

Walking back to your couch you took a healthy glug to try to calm your nerves. You set it down on your coffee table so you wouldn’t drink it all in one go as you sat down, your leg bouncing nervously. Picking up your phone you considered maybe texting Chris, maybe you could phrase it in a way that looked like you were just checking if he was okay.

Before you could even think any further on that you heard your intercom buzz. You swallowed nervously and rose from the couch and made your way over to the intercom, taking a deep breath before pressing the button.

“Hello?” you said simultaneously hoping it was and wasn’t Chris.

“It's Chris… we need to talk” Chris responded making you breathe out a sigh of relief, at least you thought it was relief.

“Sure, c’mon up,” you said buzzing him in.

You didn’t hear anything else from him to suggest he was actually coming up but nevertheless, you opened your apartment door and waited for him. As you did so you nervously wiped your hands on your leggings hoping you didn’t look as nervous as you felt. What if he was still pissed? What if he thought you were trying to get with Storm as was here to tell you to back off?

When he finally came into view you had to swallow and tell yourself to behave because he looked that good. He had clearly showered but not bothered to reapply any hair product because his fluffy brown hair was disheveled. He wore a navy zip-up hoodie which was a size or two too small going by the way it clung to his biceps. But his grey sweatpants were the real killer and you had to mentally remind yourself to look at his face.

Neither of you said anything as he stepped inside your apartment, his hands buried in his pockets. You barely moved after shutting the door, just watching as he stood there looking around at your apartment.

“Less boxes” he finally said, his eyes finally finding you.

“Yeah… thankfully” you said struggling to find anything else to say, the atmosphere quickly becoming awkward “Do you want a drink? I don’t have any beer, but I have wine” you said looking for an out, pointing at your wine glass.

Chris shook his head “i’m good… you’re not expecting anyone are you?” he asked clearing his throat.

“No, I wasn’t, I’m not” you told him taking a couple of steps closer.

Chris nodded his head pursing his lips “Just figured you’d invited Storm over” he said.

His tone made your hackles rise, putting you on the defensive “Would it be a problem if I had?” you stated making Chris clench his jaw “Because you know we are two consenting adults, we don’t need permission to do what we want, we don’t need your permission, or my dad’s”

“Oh, so you do want to sleep with him?” Chris fired back.

“Why? Why do you care? Is that why you came here? To tell me to back off?” you demanded.

“No” Chris growled.

“Then why? Why are you here? What do you want?” you pressed walking over to him.

“I-” Chris started but you interrupted him again.

“What do you want!” you pretty much shouted.

Chris just growls surging forward, his hand clasping the back of your head as he crashed his lips down onto yours. You instantly responded, kissing him back hungrily, your arm winding around his shoulders, your other hand gripping his hoodie tightly. He in turn pulled you closer hand moving to cup your ass, a groan escaping his lips when he squeezed it.

“You’re such a bad idea” he groaned as he continued to kiss you.

“Then why does it feel so right” you murmured as you tried to tug him back towards your bedroom but he wouldn’t budge.

“Because you’re a drug” he muttered making you gasp in surprise when he turned you around, his hands placed firmly on your hips as he pressed kisses to your neck “All week I’ve wanted you, I thought I could deal with it myself but it wasn’t enough… I needed the real thing,” he said tugging your hips back into his so you could feel just how much he needed you.

“I know… I felt the same” you gasped as he slipped one hand beneath the waistband of your leggings, fingers running over your core and feeling your arousal.

“We shouldn’t do this” he murmured but still doesn’t stop, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in circles.

Your head dropped back against his shoulder giving him perfect access to your neck. Your hands gripped his arms to keep yourself upright when he nipped at your pulse point only to soothe it with his tongue.

“Don’t stop” you begged, your hips bucked up into his touch.

“I don’t plan on it” he growled as he plunged his fingers into you.

You let out a loud moan but it was silenced by his lips capturing yours once more. You all but melted into him, you would have completely fallen to the floor if he hadn’t wrapped his free arm around your waist, trapping you against him.

You came in record time, moaning his name as you hit your peak. Your chest heaved and your vision turned hazy but you were pretty sure you were watching Chris lick your arousal off his fingers which only made more flood your core. He caught sight of you watching him, a smirk on his lips as you bit yours.

Without saying anything he moved you so you were bent along the back on the couch, your leggings and underwear were soon tugged down and removed, thrown somewhere in your apartment. The anticipation was killing you as you heard Chris undress behind you and the tell-tale sign of a foil square being ripped into.

It then went silent. All you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and your heavy breathing as you waited for him to do something. After what felt like an eternity his hands ran over your hips and ass, massaging and squeezing your cheeks. He took his time, a moaning gasp escaping your lips when he decided to spank you once only to instantly soothe the stinging with a kiss.

He then kicks your legs further apart before stepping closer and lining himself up. You tried to fight back the moan at the feeling of just his tip pressing against you. He then went still and all you could hear was his heavy breathing as if he was trying to hold himself back.

You didn’t want that though, it had been the longest week in existence and you needed him now. You didn’t want him to hold himself back, you wanted him hard and fast, you needed the release only he could give you. There’d be time to go slower another time.

He must have been reading your mind or you were thinking out loud again as he then slams into you with so much force you nearly went over the top of the couch. He didn’t give you a moment to recover and you didn’t want it either because this was exactly what you wanted, what you fantasised.

“Fuck you feel so good” Chris groaned as he thrusts deeply into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly leaving his mark on you “How could I possibly think I could stay away” he muttered more to himself than to you.

His words made your back arch as you gripped the couch and ground back against him. Getting that confirmation that you had the same effect on him that he did on you was the biggest turn-on that existed.

Chris took advantage of your arched back reaching around to slip his hand under your fuzzy crop top to cup your breast. Pulling a loud moan from you as he played and pulled at your sensitive peak.

“Ch-chris I-” you moaned unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Hold on, I’m not done with you yet” Chris groaned as he placed a kiss to your spine “Not yet” he repeats when you let out a pleading whimper.

You did what you were told, trying to hold on for as long as Chris wanted you to, talking yourself back down from the edge that you so desperately wanted to jump off. You held on until it was impossible, grabbing Chris’ hand and directing him towards your clit but he pulled his hand away before you got the touch you needed.

“Ah, ah, ah, did I say you could cum?” Chris asked leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Please” you begged gripping his wrist.

“Please what?” Chris pushed moving his hand closer to where you wanted it.

“Please Chris, just please” you pleaded.

Chris didn’t say anything making you whimper only to gasp when he placed a kiss to your shoulder as he finally found your clit and brought you to the peak you were desperately chasing. You came with a loud moan your walls clenching and pulsating around him, you were so high in the clouds that you were only faintly aware of Chris hitting his peak just after you. Your only indicator being the feeling of his weight over you as he finished.

Your vision began to clear as you felt Chris pull out of you. You continued to recover, catching your breath as you heard Chris moving around your apartment behind you.

You were about to push yourself up to stand when you felt Chris’ hand run gently up your back. Looking over your shoulder you saw the gentle expression on his face as he helped you stand before leading you around to the front of the couch.

You watched as he lay down on the couch before pulling you down to lay on top of him, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. Your hand rested on his chest as you looked down at him and tried to understand the expression on his face. You knew there was stuff you needed to talk about, work out exactly what this arrangement was but you didn’t want to ruin this moment just yet.

So you just rested your head down on his chest and ran your hand over his chest “What are you doing tomorrow?” you asked quietly.

Chris hummed “nothing…why?”

You lifted your head again to look back down at him “Congratulations, you’ve been awarded membership to the most exclusive club in Boston”

A lopsided grin grew on his face “About time” he chuckled as he cupped your cheek and kissed you.

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

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#niamhwrites #Boston Bears Series #Boston Bears: Off-Limits #Rugby AU #RugbyPlayer!Chris #Chris evans #Chris Evans x Reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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ghost-proofbaby · 11 months

Note

One is horny and one is tomfoolery you say? Hour 19 has been plaguing my mind and it’s not even out yet. I just know it’s the horny one. Let me have at it, please, just a lil snippet, I’ve been listening to deftones all night

ah, well, if you've been listening to deftones all night... i'm legally required to provide the snippet, right? that's how that works, i think.

“So that’s all? You just want to get out of here?” he isn’t looking at you as he reaches for a bottle of shampoo, blinking water out of his eyes.

This conversation is going surprisingly well.

“Not here specifically,” you clarify. Your chest aches at the thought of just leaving behind all the friends you’d made, the life you had started in this city. The thought of already beginning to preemptively tear it down was enough to dampen your mood worse than the steam of the shower was doing to your hair, “I don’t know. Who cares about the future? What are you doing with your money?”

He’s about to squirt some of the shampoo into the palm of his hand when you suddenly snatch it from him, holding up a finger and twirling it in a demanding manner. He’s shocked, but he turns for you regardless, even bending his knees as he gets the message.

He doesn’t question the fact that you’re about to wash his hair. No protests towards something so domestic between previously sworn enemies.

“I wasn’t lying earlier,” he starts just as you have lathered up your palms and set aside the shampoo on the shower ledge, fingertips digging right into his scalp. Even with the slight bend in his posture, your arms have to stretch to reach the crown of his head, “A new bike or guitar would be nice but– Oh,” a particular scratch of your nails has him faltering in his words, throwing his head back a bit more and humming. The throb, the ache, the burn returns. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Keep talking, pretty boy,” you murmur as he hums even louder.

“Well, I… It’s not a lot of money, y’know? I mean, it is. But it also isn’t. Am I making any sense? Fuck, that feels good,” he stumbles across his point as your fingers continue small circles, and you already know without looking that his eyes have flutter shut.

The pit of your stomach can only rally, twisting and tumbling at his satisfaction. Something so domestic and something you had started with sweet intentions was quickly derailing, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

You have him. But you don’t have him. The same type of conundrum he faces with the amount of money promised to the both of you if you were to survive these hours.

“You’re making sense,” you promise with a shy grin you know he can’t see, “Like, I know the money won’t pay off all my debts or college tuition, but it’s a good start. Anyways, as you were saying?”

Both of you struggle to focus as he continues on, melting even further into your touch, “I dunno. Maybe if I have anything leftover, I’ll send it to my uncle.”

His voice is strained, and you know it’s a throwaway sentence, but the small detail of his life you’ve been rewarded doesn’t go unnoticed.

Uncle? Why uncle?

“You in debt to your uncle over a bad night of gambling or somethin’?” you try to joke as you finally release your fingertips from his scalp. Your palms come down on his shoulders as you spin him slowly, encouraging him to keep his head tipped back as he lets the water wash away the suds produced.

Surprisingly, his shampoo doesn’t smell like boy. It’s akin to green apples, maybe something smoother beneath it all like coconut. Something sweet and something innocent.

Maybe that’s what has him being so open to you as he explains, “I’ll always be in debt to him, but not for gambling. He raised me. My folks… weren’t the best. I owe everything to that man.”

#thank u ily <3 #vol2eddie <3 #twenty four hours #someone call 911 they're actually opening up and being vulnerable for longer than a few minutes !#the shower is a fun place #it's always in the shower #isn't it?#ALRIGHT now back to ghost stories <3

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lovelylogans · 9 months

Text

the parent trap

CHAPTER SEVEN: operation augstus

The realization of having an identical twin does quite a bit to spur some out-of-the-box levels of creativity.

⁂

The rest of the day passes in a giddy, unreal blur.

They eschew camp activities and communal meals—who needed any of that when you’d just found your twin brother for the first time?!

The wedding photo, placed as close to reunited as they could manage, has taken place of pride in the midst of their communal bulletin board.

Cubby and Paddington—in their own way, reunited, long-lost twins—are put in pride of place at the forefront of Roman’s dresser, the best-lit location in the room at the moment. They even look like they’re holding paws.

They spend a lot of time going I can’t believe it! and who’d have thought and I really, really can’t believe it! but that one’s mostly Roman, but Remus can totally get the urge.

Because seriously. A long-lost identical twin brother.

A long-lost identical twin brother who is currently telling him all about life with Dad—who exists and walks and talks and is generally a real person with thoughts and opinions rather than a frozen figure in just one picture—and Dad’s cousin, Uncle Logan, and their Grandfather (“we have a Grandfather?!”) who all live together in—

“How big’s the townhouse?”

“Oh, don’t make me try to translate proper measurements to your awful system,” Roman complains. “I don’t know—big enough that we all have our own bedroom? It’s a house.”

“Still—you’re in London, you all have to be squished in between other houses. That sounds really—”

“How could they have never told us about each other?” Roman says, and that stops Remus in his tracks.

He tries to come up with something. Anything.

All he can come up with is “I dunno.”

“I know that Dad doesn’t tell me everything in his life, especially if it has to do with Papa,” Roman says in a small voice. “But I’d have thought he’d at least tell me something as important as this.”

“And hiding this is totally unlike Pa,” Remus says. “He’s a total open book. He’s so lovey-dovey with so many people, and he’s all about that importance of family junk, he schedules in bonding time and everything. Almost a little too much, sometimes.”

“...maybe he schedules too much with you because—”

“—what, because he’s missing you?” Remus says, then stops to think for a literal second. “No, yeah, that actually sounds a lot like Pa. Huh. That’s definitely part of why he’s so…”

He struggles for the word, then, “You’d get it if you met Pa.”

“I wish I could,” Roman says glumly. “If our parents didn’t even know that we were going to meet each other—”

But that jogs a thought for Remus and he interrupts immediately.

“So you haven’t written Dad about me, right?” Remus checks. “Like, back in the fencing match or whatever.”

“Certainly not,” Roman says, affronted. “He’d be lecturing me for weeks that I managed to get caught pulling tricks on someone else.”

“Me either, with Pa,” Remus says, “except he’d just be lecturing me for weeks period. Dad sounds cooler about that sort of thing, but I’m getting off track: you never mentioned the name Remus or Parker, right? Because I never said anything about a Roman or a James.”

“No, I was so sick to death of the conversation that I just completely blocked out the fencing match from my letter,” Roman says. “And then—well, all the trouble started. I think I mentioned going to play poker, but that would be it.”

“Well,” Remus says. “They can’t know that we’ve met.”

Roman looks stung. “Why not?”

“Uh, hello?!” Remus says. “I don’t know about you, but I think a letter home going Dear Pa, Guess who I met! My identical twin brother, and you’ve got some explaining to do! might not get the results we want, will it?”

“But we can’t not write about anything,” Roman says. “I don’t know how I’d feel waiting to talk to Dad about camp until we got home again, I’ve been writing him fairly consistently, unless—”

Roman pauses.

“Unless?” Remus prompts.

“...unless we come up with an alias,” Roman says slowly.

“A what?”

“An alias! Like a codename,” Roman says. “That way, we can write home saying we’ve made a new friend this and that, and then when we get home we can lay all of our cards on the table. Like, we know we have a brother out there, look at this Polaroid for proof and explain yourself!”

“That’s a pretty good idea,” Remus admits. “What’s our codename, though? Like, Harry M. Welsch?”

“That’s a movie character, isn’t it.”

“Oh yeah, for sure.”

“That would give it away immediately. No, we need something unique…”

Roman hand-to-God starts tapping his finger against his chin, like some kind of movie character, before: “I’ve got it! Well, part of it.”

“Well, tell me your part, and I can come up with my part.”

“Roman,” he says, placing a hand to his chest, then pointing, “Remus.”

“Yeah…?”

“You’re familiar with the story of the creation of the Roman empire, aren’t you? Isn’t a name for something related to both of our names obvious?”

“Your codename cannot be Rome.”

“No!” Roman laughs, then, “I’m saying the real-life founder of Rome instead of the mythical ones. Our codename should be Augustus.”

“...Huh,” Remus says. “You know, that’s… not terrible.”

“I’m making friends with a boy in my cabin named Augustus,” Roman prompts. “We play poker and we’ve found an abandoned cabin—”

“—no mentions of our exile then—?”

“—of course not—and we hang out together a lot more, we’re getting to be really close, practically like brothers…”

“Oh, I catch your drift,” Remus says. “Hm. I guess I should come up with a last name, then…. oh!”

“Is it going to be awful?”

“Augustus Plotka!” Remus says, nudging him. “Because Augustus is key to our plot?”

“Awful.”

“I could just call him last name Operation, first name Augustus.”

“Plotka’s fine,” Roman says hastily.

⁂

Hi Pa and Virgil,

Sorry I haven’t written in a while! I got real caught up in stuff with a guy from Pine. He’s pretty cool, I guess, he knows a lot about fashion and fencing and poker and stuff. His name’s Augustus Plotka and we’ve had to spend a lot of time together lately since it’s raining like crazy here so it means we spend a lot more time talking to other people.

Which also means more letter writing, since there’s not a lot to do out while it’s raining. I guess everyone needed a rest anyway, so much has been happening here that you probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you. There’s been a bit of a shuffle around for scheduling since I guess the counselors trust us enough to know our way around now and me and Gus found this abandoned cabin—I’ll stick a Polaroid in the envelope—isn’t it spooky?! It looks like someone’s going to come and murder us in the dead of night and this cabin used to belong to the founder of camp who haunts it to this day, I love it.

I haven’t actually found any evidence of hauntings or grisly murders. Yet. But give me time!!!

I think Gus would probably like that if just through a storytelling perspective. He’s kind of squeamish but I guess everyone is compared to me. You should’ve seen his face when I started making Sludge at the dinner table! He didn’t think I would eat it! It’s like he’d never even met me!

How’s stuff at the vineyard? How’s Sprout doing? Apparently there’s going to be some rinky-dink old donkey down at camp sometime, but there’s no way that ass is gonna hold a candle to Sprout. (I can write it! That’s the technical name for a donkey!)

Send suggestions of junk food to st request from the kitchens!!! I think Gus is Amish or something, he’d never tried a Dunkaroo or a Fruit Roll-Up until he came to camp, can you believe it?!

Pet Sammy and Sprout for me, and also don’t even worry about whatever noises are coming from the closet in my room,

—Remus

⁂

Dear Dad (and Uncle Logan, and Grandfather),

At last, some semblance of home here! The downpour we’ve had lately is truly something; Augustus from my cabin keeps trying to tell me various American turns of phrase for it, but I think at least one of them is fake. Probably “the devil’s beating his wife,” because that seems rather uncouth, doesn’t it? But Augustus swears up and down that’s what Americans say when it rains while it’s kind of sunny outside so long as his last name’s Plotka.

This means much more time for drawing and painting—we got to explore a bit more before the rain shut us in, and Augustus and I found this abandoned cabin (sketch enclosed) that makes for a nice quiet area to sit in shelter without worry of any interference from other campers, who seem to ignore this cabin’s existence entirely.

Augustus likes to paint too, but he tends to a bit of a more… impressionistic style, let’s say? Lots of bright colors, lots of interfering with any brushstrokes with using his fingers because “the paint’s not going where I want it,” but it turns out pretty good, so I suppose I know what he’s doing.

We’ve rather settled into a rhythm here at camp, and the counselors seem to trust that we know where we’re going now, so we have much more freedom in picking our tasks. So that means less basketball (I really am rubbish at it) and much more footie, arts and crafts, and hanging out by the lake, which is as I prefer rather than trying my best to avoid being tackled by the brutish sport that is American football.

Anyway, this weather ALSO leaves us plenty of time to play poker (Augustus gets close but he’s hasn’t beaten me in three matches, even though he tries to count cards and is absolutely unrepentant) and talk about things. His home sounds interesting, but I find myself missing you all more and more.

Your son/cousin-once-removed/grandson,

Roman James

⁂

And now, to close the night, they’ve pushed their beds together, arms tucked under their heads, talking and talking, the way they’ve been talking and talking all day, and it’s just—

It’s just so weird. Even for Remus.

“Did Papa ever remarry?”

“Nah,” Remus says. “He always says he’s too busy with me and the vineyard, and that romantic love isn’t the end-all be-all of life anyway and that he’s perfectly happy with the platonic love he’s got. How about Dad?”

“No—he said that marriage isn’t much for him,” Roman says, then, thoughtfully, “I’m sure he’s gone on dates, but nothing too serious.”

“Same as Pa, then,” Remus says.

“That’s rather poetic, I suppose. Both of them mirroring each other even after all this time.”

“I don’t know if they sound too much alike,” Remus says. “Actually, they sound real different. They did end up getting divorced for some reason, you know.”

“Do you know?” Roman says. “The reason our parents got divorced, I mean.”

“Not really—Pa doesn’t talk about it, much. It makes him too sad.”

“Dad either. He always changes the subject. I don’t know much about their partnership, really. Well—clearly, neither of us knew that much, considering our current predicament.”

“Do you know much about how our Dads met?” Remus asks, adjusting slightly so he can see Roman better.

“Some,” Roman says. “Probably the same as you.”

“Say it anyway, in case you know any little details different from me.”

“Well,” Roman says. “Dad’s scared stiff of flying, you see, so when he had to go from London to the States he booked a ticket on the Queen Elizabeth II, an ocean liner. Dad was put next to Papa at dinner, and I’m told that was history. They were married onboard the ship in less than the two weeks the voyage took.”

“Going from strangers to marrying them in two weeks,” Remus says with a shake of his head. “That’s wild. And I’m saying that.”

“Well, I think it’s rather romantic,” Roman declares.

Remus wonders, in a daze, if hearing about the opposite life he could have had is as strange for Roman as it will be for him… if they’d just been switched at birth, it’s the life Remus could have had, knowing his Dad instead of his Pa, but then…

But then it clicks.

“Roman,” he says, turning to grin at his brother—his brother! “I have a completely perfect, totally awesome idea!”

Roman blinks at him, briefly lifting his head, propping himself up on his elbows.

“You want to know what Pa is like, right?”

“Well, of course,” Roman says.

“And I wanna know what Dad is like,” Remus pushes. “I’m thinking—Roman, when camp is over, I think we should switch places.”

Roman gapes at him.

“I’ll go to London to spend time with Dad and Uncle Logan as you,” Remus says, then, “so weird I have an Uncle, by the way—”

“—he’s not technically our uncle, he’s Dad’s cousin—”

“—same difference—and you’ll go to California to spend time with Pa as me!”

“Remus,” Roman protests, “we’re so completely and utterly different—”

“Roman, we’re identical twins!” Remus urges. “This is the kind of thing that pranksters dream of! We can teach each other—you can tell me about why I should like beans on toast—” (“they’re good!”) “—and I can teach you cool things, like how to build stink bombs—look, I can be you already!”

Remus covers the streak in his hair with his hand and puts on his haughtiest English accent.

“But do you want to know the real difference between you and me? That I know how to fence and you don’t? Or is it that I have class and you don’t? Take your pick.”

Roman grins sheepishly.

“Come on, Rome,” Remus urges, clasping his hands together under his chin. “I gotta meet my Dad—and I know you wanna meet your Papa.”

He juts out his lower lip and widens his eyes in his best possible puppy-dog eyes impression.

Roman chews his lip. Then—

“You know,” Roman says, some realization dawning over his eyes. “You do realize, if we switch…”

“Yeah?”

“Then Dad and Papa are going to have to reunite to switch us back.”

Remus gasps, the realization hitting him.

“And when they do—” Roman prompts.

“They’ll have to reunite again!”

“After all these years…” Roman sighs, “oh, it’s like a romance movie, I could just die!”

“Ugh, I dunno about romance,” Remus complains.

“Oh, hush,” Roman says happily. “So… if we were to switch…”

Remus nudges him with an elbow. “You’re gonna have to work on your accent.”

“Oh, as if yours is any better.”

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#my fic #my fanfic #tpt fic

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cabinofimagines · 2 years

Text

Day two; Spirit Halloween

Disclaimer; none American dealing with supposed liminal spaces; I watched 2 videos with the inside of spirit Halloween's. Don’t correct me if I’m wrong, also I do not condone stealing.

Pairing: Platonic Annabeth, Percy, Will, Piper and Calypso x gn!reader

Warnings: none, possible misinterpretation of Spirit Halloween stores

Word count: 1.3k

< prev - Halloween 2022 mlist - next >

-Asnyox

Everyone was really glad to finally be stretching their legs. There had been some grumbles when you brought up your secret missions from Leo, but no one stopped you from pulling over into the gigantic parking lot in front of the Spirit Halloween. You hadn’t even noticed the sign next to the highway before you mentioned it to Will, who was sitting next to you. And then you immediately nose-dived the car across three lanes to make the exit to the pop-up Spirit Halloween store. Safe to say that everyone suddenly was very awake in the car.

“Anyone else getting like, chills?” Percy asked as he gazed at the Spirit Halloween. There were dark clouds forming behind it. You interrupted the darkening mood quickly, before everyone decided that maybe Leo should fetch the decorations himself.

“I have always dreamt of visiting one of these.” You said wishfully, looking at the previously abandoned building.

“Why? I have never been either.” Annabeth said and you slowly started making your way to the store.

“I dunno, I thought that maybe Spirit Halloween stores were a myth.” you explained and Piper laughed behind you.

“Because they are pop-up stores?” She asked and you nodded.

“And they inhabit abandoned warehouses- plus all the spooky stuff.” You started walking backwards, so you could look at your friends.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never been,” Calypso glanced to the building behind you, “And this building does feel as if it shouldn’t be here.” You smiled at her.

“Thank you, Cal!” Calypso turned shy from your excitement.

“Wait, so no one here has ever been in a Spirit Halloween?” You asked. Most of your group nodded.

“I mean, I never said I had gone either,” Piper spoke.

“Nope, my mom never had the time of money to take me so,” Percy shook his head.

“I have, Nico took me on a date there last year.” Will piped up.

“Oooh romantic!” Piper joked, followed by some laughs.

───────────

As you entered the store, you all quickly lost your group. You had wanted to look out for Calypso, and you hoped someone was near her right now. You don’t know how it happened, but one second everyone was still together, than you looked at one animatronic and immediately everyone was gone. You wanted to look around to see if you could find anyone, but the heightened ceilings with bright lights prevented you from focusing on things too far away. Plus, all the sounds from the different toys, animatronics, and gimmicks around you were distracting you.

But you had a mission, with a basket in hand you started collecting various decorations for Leo. While you were at it, you somehow found a baking isle together with loads of Halloween candy. You grabbed some stuff for your baking session later this week with Nico, hoping that he would not mind.

You stumbled into the next isle, only to be met with Percy trying on a gremlin mask. Annabeth was laughing as Percy struggled to get the mask on right. You sneaked up behind Percy, his vision being compromised by the mask.

“BOO!” You scream in Percy’s ear, and he yelps as he turns around. Annabeth catches him quickly, preventing Percy from bringing down the aisles next to him. You laugh, as Percy struggles to get the mask off.

You reach out and help him. As he lays eyes on you, he is red in the face.

“Not funny, (Y/n).” He scolds you and Annabeth laughs behind him. Percy glares at her, but than breaks a smile himself. As she calms down, Annabeth turns to you.

Percy and Annabeth agree, and you quickly bide them goodbye as you resume your search.

“Having any luck with finding what you need?” She asks and you nod.

“Got a lot already, uhm,” you absentmindedly show them your basket, “Anyone seen Calypso?” You ask and both Percy and Annabeth shake their heads.

“Should we help you look?” Annabeth asks and you shake your head.

“No, just, keep an eye out? I don’t want her to be overwhelmed by all of this, y’know.”

───────────

You finally find Calypso, who seems frozen in time, in a corner of the store. You carefully put your basket down and stand in front of her. You take her shaking hands into your own. You noticed how this corner was relatively quieter to the rest of the store, but it was still loud. There were almost no customers around the two of you.

“Too much?” Calypso nodded, eyes shifting around.

“I just, I don’t trust it here.” Her voice comes out shaking, “It’s so loud, and so many things move-” you nod in understanding and open your arms as an invitation for a hug.

She quickly moves in and thanks you under her breath.

“Better?” You ask and she nods as she breaks the hug, “I should have staid closer to you, Cal. I didn’t know this store would be so chaotic.” Calypso shrugged.

“The modern world generally has just gotten so much louder. It’s something to get used to, I suppose.” You hummed in agreement. Then, the ugliest costume you’ve ever seen caught your eye. You picked it up, holding it in front of your body.

“What do you think?” you asked Calypso, who seemed appalled at the piece.

“The quality is horrible, (Y/n),” she stated as she touched the fabric. You saw her visibly shiver at the sensation. “Please, let me make you a costume and don’t even consider wearing this.”

“Oh, Cal is making costumes now?” Piper walked around the isle, joining you in your corner. Calypso nodded, a smile slowly coming on her face.

“I enjoy sewing, so why not.” Piper’s face filled with excitement.

“Can you also make my costume? I would love to wear your craft.”

“Sure,” Calypso’s eyes glittered at the prospect of making gifts for her friends, “I can make everyone costumes if they need them!”

Suddenly, Annabeth walked up to you nervously, holding Percy’s hand. Will was close behind them.

“There are monsters- the entire staff is monsters.” She whispered. You looked up confused, before staring intensely at the worker stocking the shelfs. Your eyes widened the worker morphed into small cyclops right before your eyes.

“Piper- no,” he objects, but Piper took the basket out of his hands, and nonchalantly started walking to the door. You followed trying not to look like you were about to steal probably a hundred, if not more, dollars’ worth of Halloween goods. Will angrily followed, but he did not complain anymore as he warily stared at the cashier.

“Ah fuck,” you quickly looked around the group of friends, “Let’s check out and run for it?”

Piper shook her head.

“The manager, a manticore, is glaring at us- I think they know,” she whispered, “Let’s just, hold on tight to the goods and run for it.”

“And steal?” Will whispered in disgust, and Piper nodded.

As you left, the alarm of the store rang- You all got into a sprint, clinging to your basket. Percy reached the car first, and quickly sprang in the driver’s seat, turning on the car. You dumped the goods in the back, closing the trunk and getting in the backseat yourself. As you heard the screams of the monsters getting closer, Percy drives away, breaking the speed limit by just a little bit.

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ashbelero · 2 years

Text

I need to explain something to all you fandom purists out there. I’ve been struggling with the words but now, as I sit here languishing with a stomach bug, somehow I’ve got it.

Have you ever stood at the railing of a tall building or a bridge and imagined jumping off? Not even to kill yourself, just to jump.

Have you ever imagined an argument with someone, a situation where you’d confront a person and exactly the right things you’d say, and you’d antagonize that person to make a point?

Have you ever gotten really angry at someone, either someone you know or like, i dunno, a politician - and you imagine yourself beating their fucking face in with a crowbar? Now ask yourself

Have you ever actually done any of that shit?

Welcome to fictional content, where everything’s made up and the points don’t matter.

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mixsethaddams · 1 year

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Extract from chapter 4 of crushcrushcrush. Read now on ao3.

WIP, 24684 words, rated M, Steve/Eddie

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Hawkins High senior prom in 2012 was nothing special to most of the people there.

Sure, they were all excited to graduate and go off to college, but it was just another big party. The punch was spiked to all hell, there were girls crying off their lashes in the bathrooms, and there were boys wrestling in the middle of the dance floor. Typical teenage shit. They all thought they were so grown up, and the racks of everyone’s baby pictures made them all feel so much older. The theme was ‘How Far We’ve Come’ and the prom committee had bullied everyone’s parents into handing over childhood photos to display outside the gymnasium in the school courtyard for the event. They were hung with clothes pegs onto string lights, wrapped around room dividers that usually got used to keep people away from half-finish projects in the art rooms.

Steve was standing in front of the pictures now, seeking out his friends’ faces. Everyone else was still inside so he could stand and look for as long as he wanted without needing to move. Tommy Hagan had pointed to his when they passed by earlier, but Steve’s mom said he needed glasses because he couldn’t focus on the tv lately, and as he struggled to see any of the faces in front of him he couldn’t help but agree. He did consider for a second that it might be down to the punch though, it was like rocket fuel with the amount of peach schnapps and bourbon that was dumped into it the second the music started. He took a step closer to the display and squinted, finding it hard to even find his own face in the low light of the surrounding exhibit. Steve found Tommy’s eventually, and then Carol’s, but he was getting a headache now from the strain. As he away with a step backwards, he sighed loudly into the quiet courtyard, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Rough night?”

Steve jumped at the unexpected company as Eddie came to stand beside him. They hadn’t really spoken to each other during their senior year. Steve thought that maybe it was last year that they had last said anything to each other. His stomach swooped at the thought. He watched as Eddie looked over the pictures in front of them. Steve thought he looked great. A black shirt with no tie under a loose blazer with ripped jeans might have looked messy on anyone else, but Eddie’s purposeful underdressing for the prom looked perfect. Beautiful, even. He was wearing a cologne that smelled of something vaguely familiar. Steve couldn’t quite place it but he had some distant memory of it that his mind just couldn’t quite get hold of. Their arms were close, and Steve felt the urge to lift his hand and grasp Eddie’s sleeve. He pushed the feeling away.

“Where’s yours?” asked Eddie, turning his head look at Steve for the first time.

Steve sighed again, casting another look over the pictures.

“I dunno, honestly,” he said, forcing lightness into his voice, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can’t see for shit, I guess I really do need glasses,”

Eddie hummed for a second and nodded, drawing his lips into a tight look of consideration. He looked along the lines of photos and then flicked his finger against a picture just to the left of Steve’s eyeline.

“I’ve been telling you that since we were kids. You’re right there,” he said before shifting his gaze to the rest of them. “Now, where am I…”

“How did you–?”

The picture was of Steve at no more than two years old, sitting on his living room floor and covered in a Sesame Street blanket. Now that it had been pointed out to him, it’s position was obvious, even if the edges were still a little blurry.

“Your dad showed it to me once,” explained Eddie, still looking for his own picture. “Oh my god, this is what Wayne gave them?”

Eddie laughed as he plucked his picture from its peg high up on the top row and held it close to them for Steve to see. The two boys, dressed as donkeys, were smiling wide during Miss Tilly’s nativity play. Eddie leaned sideways to knock their shoulders together as they looked down at it. Steve took his hand out of his pocket and hold the other corner of the photo.

“Oh my god,” echoed Steve, smiling at the memory. “At least it wasn’t the one of us dressed like SpongeBob and Patrick for Halloween I guess. Do you even remember this play?”

Eddie pressed their arms close together again and this time held the contact.

“I remember us asking why we had to stand all the way in the back,” he said with a grin, looking at Steve. “We thought we were the stars of that show, man,”

Steve laughed now. Their poor teacher had been followed around by the two of them for weeks having to explain why the donkeys wouldn’t be at the very front.

“But Mary and Joseph knew the donkeys! The other people were all strangers!”

“Uh huh, uh huh, they were way better friends with them, they’d want them to see their baby before anyone else,”

“Boys please go back to your seats,”

“Which was funny because she wouldn’t let us dress as stars either,” said Steve. “Samantha Conners and Sara Bright got to do that, remember?”

“Remember?” asked Eddie with mock offence. “I’m still holding tight to that grudge, they couldn’t ever sparkle like us,”

Eddie’s pinky finger had moved the small distance across the back of the piece of card in their hands and rubbed against Steve’s. His stomach flipped at the unexpected sensation but now Eddie pulled his hand away entirely, leaving Steve holding the picture by himself. Eddie put his hands on the top of his head and spin into a messy little pirouette. He finished by holding his arms wide when he came to a stop and wiggling his fingers. Steve put a hand to his mouth and giggled when Eddie spat out the hair that had gotten into his mouth. He hadn’t giggled in a long time. No one was able to make him laugh like Eddie. Eddie gave a small bow and rolled his hands in a circle as he did so.

“So Boston, huh?” asked Eddie, standing up straight and putting his hands into his back pockets. He rocking back onto one leg, turning to face Steve properly now. “School paper says you’ll be coaching college varsity teams by the time you’re 25,”

Steve was caught off guard by the question. He had half been ignoring the fact that he was leaving in a few months. Early acceptance was great and everyone said it gave him a better chance to get his head around the idea of leaving, but Steve had found that it just gave him more time to think about what he wasn’t bringing with him. Who he was leaving behind.

“Boston, yeah,” said Steve looking at the bottom row of the display next to him. He slipped the picture in his hand into his suit jacket pocket, as if he was trying to pin the memory to his heart. “Not sure about the coaching thing but, yeah…”

“You excited?” asked Eddie. He took a step towards Steve and ducked his head to try meet his gaze.

Lying was something that Steve could never do when it came to Eddie. He was always compelled to tell him exactly what was going on in his head. Maybe it was because Eddie had trusted him with all his own secrets that Steve never felt the need to put up any boundaries of his own. So, was he excited to go to Boston?

“No,” said Steve admitted with a strained smile, feeling the corners of his eyes starting to prickle. “I’m terrified,”

#steddie #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #my fic #steve x eddie #modern au #seth writes

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whumpering-heights · 2 years

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Villain recovery arc: I'm here

MASTERLIST

tagging: @pumpkin-spice-whump @octopus-reactivated @fanastyfinder @whumpy-arts-and-crafts @arsonfrogger @burtlederp @harri-00 @akito-fuckn-fear @potatoo-angst

CWs: mental whump, implied brain damage, cognitive trouble, clumsy caretaking, aftermath of starvation, emeto mention, child abuse mention, arguments

Villain woke from his nap. His head pounded and every muscle was sore, yet he smiled when he saw Hench sitting next to his bed.

In bits and pieces, the memory of the reunion came back. It wasn’t a dream, though it still felt fake. He hadn’t woken up back in his cell as he had feared.

“You’re really alive,” he muttered, still foggy with sleep. “But… I don’t understand, how?”

Henchwoman looked at him oddly. Fondly, with a smile, but there was something tight around their eyes.

“I got out just before the lab went up, Boss,” she explained. “I’ve told you that three times already.”

Villain tried to remember when that must have been. He remembered waking up to the IV, and hugging Ada. Had that been the same event, or was he cobbling together different moments? His headache got worse, and he struggled not to give up and simply stop thinking.

“How.. How long have I been out? Of Hero’s cell, I mean?”

“Same as last time I told you, about a day.”

Her voice had a slight edge to it. Was it annoyance Villain heard? Or just pity? He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. He could feel the tremors in them, the way fever was making his skin electric. He sighed, but then stopped and frowned.

He was upset about something. But he couldn’t remember what. He looked over at Hench, in the hope seeing her would help him remember. The young woman looked at him expectantly.

“Do you?” she asked.

Villain blinked in confusion.

“I’m… What? Did you ask me a question?”

“Yes!” Hench clearly said that a bit louder than she’d meant to, and cleared her throat to cover it up. “I mean, yes. I asked if you need anything?”

“My brain back, that would be nice.”

Hench didn’t seem to think it was funny.

Well, why not? It was funny! Like she could just pick up his brain at a grocery store. Hello, I’d like one coherent mind, please. That’ll be 3,99. Villain chuckled at the absurdity of that mental image, and then lost control over the reaction, like he was slipping on ice. It wasn’t even a good joke, but he couldn’t really stop, to the point he was having trouble catching his breath. Oh, if he died right now, wouldn’t that be a laugh? All that trouble to escape Hero, and he’d pass away cackling like a madman at his own dumb quip.

Once his fit calmed down, he groaned. Laughing had jostled his injuries, and though the painkillers made the pain nice and muted, he could feel his frail body straining under the excercise.

He turned his head away from Hench when he caught her eyes.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” he muttered.

“Like what?” she asked. Villain didn’t answer, because he couldn’t find the words. He just knew Henchwoman’s face made him want to hide under the blanket.

Thankfully, he was pulled from his thoughts when Vigilante entered.

“How are we doing here?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“I dunno,” answered Henchwoman, speaking over Villain’s bed to Vigilante.

“He’s not thinking straight. How long do you think he’ll be like this?”

Villain’s brows lowered. Please don’t talk about me like I’m not here, he thought. I am. I can still hear you, even if I might not remember in five minutes.

“I don’t know,” answered Vigilante. “He’s still recovering. Give it time. He’ll come back to himself eventually.”

“I’m here,” said Villain, in a tone more bitter than he’d aimed for. Vigilante smiled and looked at him.

“Hey, good job on remembering! Yeah, you’re in my place, and-”

“No,” interrupted Villain, more insistent. “I’m here, I can hear you. I’m stupid, not deaf. And I’m already myself. I can’t become any more than I am. This is it. Okay? ”

The other two were silent for a moment. Villain wondered if they even understood what he’d been trying to say. Did he even understand his own words? The fever was making it so hard to focus. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself.

“Hey, you’re not stupid,” Vigilante tried to console. “Your brain is going to bounce back, don’t worry. Here, I brought you some food.”

Villain decided it wasn’t worth it to argue. He was too tired for it, anyway.

He reached out his thin, pale hands to take the ceramic bowl. It appeared to be filled with a chicken soup, about halfway. He cocked his head at the small amount.

“That’s all?” He picked up the spoon and let some of the nearly clear broth fall back into the bowl. Hunger made his stomach pang and he glanced at Vigilante sideways. “Hero didn’t starve me enough, then?”

Vigilante sat down next to his bed, on the opposite side Henchwoman sat at.

“No need for the attitude. I’d love to give you more, but we need to take it slow. Otherwise, you’ll be puking all over the bed.”

Ah yes, Villain supposed that made sense. When Sidekick had made him pancakes, that exact thing had- Sidekick.

He nearly dropped his spoon when he remembered.

“Where’s Sidekick?”

Vigilante wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Look, Villain-”

“Where is he?” asked Villain, a little more frantic now. He needed the kid to be safe, he had to know he was alright. And he… Sidekick always made it better, right? Yes, how could he recover without his help? He had been his support so long, why wasn’t he here right now? Vigilante’s jaw tensed.

“Listen, Sidekick… He didn’t come with us.”

Villain couldn’t believe his ears. “You left him there?” he accused.

Vigilante held up his hands in defense.

“I tried, okay? But he didn’t want to come, and I-”

Villain squinted, disapproval clear on his face. “So you just left him.”

“Well.. Yes!” exclaimed Vigilante. “What did you want me to do, haul him over my shoulder and carry him out?”

Villain knew he was being sarcastic, but he felt the anger inside rise. “Yes! You did the same with me! Why would you save me, and leave the kid! What kind of priorities..?” he shook his head.

“I’d rather you left me there!”

At that, Henchwoman interfered. “Don’t say that, you deserved to get out!”

“Not as much as him,” rebuked Villain, before turning his anger back on Vigilante. “You don’t understand. Hero, he beats him. If he’s there and I’m not, he’ll be in deep trouble.”

Vigilante closed his eyes, as though bracing for a hit.

“I know,” he said softly, which only fueled Villain’s disbelief more.

“And you’re okay with that?!” he asked, voice getting near to cracking.

“Of course I’m not okay!” Vigilante’s skin had become flush, and when he finally looked at Villain, his eyes were dark. “Do you think that helps me sleep at night? No, I hate it just as much as you. I know what Hero is like,-”

“You don’t,” argued Villain.

“I do!” he insisted. “For longer than you, even.”

“Then how can you abandon Sidekick like that?” yelled Villain, face turning red.

Vigilante rose from his chair.

“Because I know what it’s like to be his friend!” he’d raised his voice and his fists were clenched.

“I know, okay? Don’t act like I’m on his side, I’m not! I can’t just kidnap someone who isn’t ready to leave, that’s not how that works! So shut up about it!”

The silence was deafening. The second the words left Vigilante’s mouth, he saw the effect they had: Henchwoman looked close to crying, and Villain had shut off. Although his brows were still furrowed in anger, he was simply staring into the middle distance.

Vigilante knew he was a big guy of solid muscle, and even taller than Hero. Usually, that made him feel like a protector. But right now it had only freaked everyone out. He rubbed his face.

“Crap, I’m sorry guys, I-I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright,” Henchwoman said softly, though Vigilante could tell how she was shaking a little. “Let’s not fight anymore, please.”

“Y-yeah,” Vigilante said, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. Villain? Can you hear me?”

Villain startled.

“Hm, I hear you,” he mumbled, but didn’t turn to look at him. “Please don’t hurt him.” His voice was monotone. “I don’t want Sidekick to get hurt.”

Vigilante sighed. Villain wasn’t seeing him anymore. Henchwoman took the bowl, before Villain’s loose grip on it would cause it to spill.

“Don’t worry Boss, I’ll be here until you come back to yourself.”

Villain blinked, the only sign he’d even registered the words. His voice was higher and strained.

“Sidekick… Is he gonna be okay? I didn’t mean to get him hurt..”

Henchwoman swallowed, their lips pressing tighter for a moment.

“I know. But hey, I’m here now. We’re both okay, let’s focus on that.”

When she guided the man to lean back into his pillows, some clarity seemed to return to Villain’s face, and he smiled.

“Yeah, you’re alive… I missed you so much. How…” He frowned. “How did you survive?”

Hench closed her eyes a moment to collect herself before responding.

“I made it out just before it went up.”

“Oh.” Villain sounded surprised. “I’m sorry, you sound annoyed. Are you?”

“No, just…” Hench pulled up the blankets a little. “I’m just tired.”

“Me too,” said Villain. “You’re a good kid. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Though Henchwoman seemed happy with those words, Vigilante couldn’t help but wonder who Villain thought he was talking to.

#whump #my stuff #my writing #behind the masks #villain #villain whump #vigilante #whump writing #mental whump #implied brain damage #cognitive trouble #clumsy caretaking #aftermath of starvation #emeto mention #child abuse mention #arguments #henchwoman

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flightfoot · 3 years

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Perspective From Another Timeline

Thanks to my betas @steelblaidd and Izzybusy!

I ADORE @buggachat new Bakery Enemies AU. This idea just kept on swirling through my head, I had to write it! This is set between parts 13 and 14, so after Adrien meets Alya and Nino but before Marinette starts sympathizing with him. AO3

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“You okay?”

Alya shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’ll be fine. I’ve weathered worse than that - we both have.”

Nino grinned at her. “True that.”

Alya smiled at him fondly, remembering Heroes Day. It was a bittersweet memory, with her having been turned against Nino and them both being akumatized.

But they had fought to protect each other as best they could. She’d seen Prime Queen’s footage, how Carapace had struggled to get her to fight against Dark Cupid’s magic, how he’d only given into despair after she’d given into akumatization.

“What did that blast do to us?” Nino wondered. “Everyone else the akuma blasted just disappeared. Why’re we still here?”

Alya’s brow furrowed. “I dunno… hold on, let me check to see whether any new info on the akuma’s been uploaded.”

Pulling out her phone, she tapped on the Akuma News Alert app.

An error message popped up, telling her that she had no internet connection.

Puzzled, Alya checked her phone’s other settings.

No wifi - no wifi even recognized, much less connectable - no cell service, no connection to the outside world at all.

She glanced over at Nino. “Hey, you got any signal?”

Taking out his own phone, he quickly checked his connection. He shook his head. “Not a single bar.”

Frowning, Alya looked around. “Maybe all the cell towers were taken out?”

Everything looked intact though, no sign of any destruction at all.

Something else caught Alya’s eye. “Hey Nino, what time should it be?”

Nino blinked. “Well I mean lunch just started so it should be a little past noon-”

He glanced around, noticing the long shadows and the pinkish-orange of the evening sky.

“-which it clearly is not anymore,” he concluded.

Great. “Guess Ladybug and Chat Noir must’ve taken a while to defeat the akuma,” she said, putting her phone away. “Hopefully my parents aren’t too worried. They like me to text them just after an akuma attack, but right now…?” she gestured to her pocket.

“My folks aren’t as worried,” Nino said. “But they still expect me back home before the sun goes down. They’ll be getting nervous soon.”

Alya let out a small sigh. “So much for playing Super Penguino together.”

“Hmmm…” Nino’s eyes gleamed. “You know… it’s not night just yet. And I’m sure my parents would understand if I was a few minutes late because I grabbed a bite to eat.”

Grabbed a bite to eat? What was Nino hinting at…?

Alya looked around at their location more closely.

Wait… that blast seemed to have carried them to that one park, the one near-

Alya grinned. “I think my parents will forgive me for not calling in if I bring them fresh-baked treats from the best bakery in Paris.”

---

*ring ring*

The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the store.

Instantly Alya felt her shoulders loosen up, releasing tension she didn’t even know she’d had. There was just something so warm and comforting about the bakery.

Of course, a lot of that was due to the people running it. Good luck finding more friendly, caring people than Marinette’s parents. Sabine often checked up on anyone who seemed to be struggling or upset (and ready to protect them if they were - Alya had seen the video of the time a TV crew decided to invade Marinette’s privacy), and Tom was basically a giant teddy bear in human form.

But neither of them were manning the counter today.

Instead a young woman stared back at them.

A very familiar-looking young woman.

“Marinette?” Alya asked cautiously.

The woman stared at her for a minute. “Alya?” she finally asked. “What happened to you?” She paled. “Did a new supervillain attack? Is that why you and Nino are younger?”

Huh. Weirdly scared reaction from Marinette. They’d all gotten used to supervillains by now. She’d expect an older Marinette to take them in stride even more than the current Marinette.

Hm… an older Marinette, a different time of day, and Marinette not seeming to know about the latest akuma attack?

“Marinette… what year is it?”

Marinette blinked for a moment. Her eyes widened.

Seemed Marinette understood what she was getting at.

She told Alya the date.

Her hunch was right. “We’re in the future,” Alya breathed.

A wicked grin slowly spread over her face.

Five years was a long time. A lot of things could have happened. A lot of information could’ve come to light.

Like Hawkmoth’s identity.

Or more information on the Miraculous.

But most importantly right now-

She leaned in close to Marinette, making sure to keep her voice down, just in case someone else was around in the back. “So did you ever get together with a certain blond-haired, green-eyed model?”

“Uh… what?” Marinette asked, looking puzzled.

Alya snapped her fingers. “Adrien. Did you and Adrien finally get together? Ooooh, if you did you’ve GOTTA tell me how the confession went! Or, no, wait, don’t tell me, I want to get the deets at the time. Just let me know how long I’ve got to wait, girl!”

Marinette just stared at her, slack-jawed. “Adrien… like ADRIEN AGRESTE?!” she said, her volume rising with every word.

Alya’s eyebrows flew up. “Um… yes…?”

She’d thought that Marinette would be glowing about finally getting together with her crush, or dejected about still not being able to spit out what she wanted to say to him, downcast over him rejecting her, or maybe even infuriated because he mistreated her and they subsequently broke up.

(The last one was VERY unlikely though. After the Felix debacle, she’d learned to have a bit more faith in Adrien’s good nature.)

Shock at the concept of dating him? Not something she’d anticipated.

Footsteps echoed from behind Marinette.

So one of Marinette’s parents must’ve been in the back-

Adrien popped his head around the corner.

Seemed both he AND Marinette had aged well.

Not that Adrien looked all that different. Taller, definitely, maybe with slightly messier hair and… were those earrings? They looked good on him.

“Hey dude!” Nino waved at his best friend. “What’s up?”

“Uh…” Adrien said, scratching the back of his neck.

“WOW those outfits really take the years off, huh?” Marinette said loudly, shoving them out the door. “Make you look smaller than usual. Well we better go talk about plans later okaybye-”

She promptly slammed the door behind them, physically pushing them away from the bakery.

After Marinette had dragged them a good distance away, Alya finally got over her shock, turning around and glaring at her. “What was that about?!” she asked Marinette indignantly, hands on her hips. “You know me, I wasn’t going to spill anything to him. That’s why I was talking so quietly! Why’d you have to do that?!”

Nino frowned, seeming more concerned than annoyed. “Adrien looked really hurt by that. Not cool.”

“There’s nothing to spill!” Marinette protested, gesticulating wildly. “I only met him for the first time two days ago!”

*record scratch*

Two-

Two DAYS ago?!

Ok, hold up.

“Adrien joined our collège class the day after I did! He sits in front of you in class! What’re you TALKING about?!”

“Uh… no…?” Marinette tilted her head to the side, befuddled. “I think I would remember that, even if it was a few years back.”

Alya let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, no kidding. He would be uh, difficult for you to forget. Heck, even if your memory was erased, you’ve got so much stuff revolving around him, I couldn’t see that lasting long.”

Marinette blushed. “Why do you think I have a crush on him?! He’s HAWKMOTH’S SON!”

“WHAT?!” Alya and Nino yelled in unison.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Hawkmoth a couple years ago,” Marinette explained, pulling out her phone.

A moment later she held it up, showing a blog post from the Ladyblog.

Oooh, that’s a nice graphical design. I’ll have to look into updating my site, Alya thought.

Turning her attention to the picture, she squinted. “Hey, can you enlarge the photo?” She asked.

Marinette complied, enlarging it and turning her phone sideways, letting it fill the entire screen.

Gabriel Agreste being led away in handcuffs by the police, with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the background. Ladybug looked satisfied, with maybe a twinge of melancholy, but Chat Noir…

He stared vacantly ahead, seemingly not focused on anyone or anything, a smile on his face - but the most forced one she’d ever seen.

“What’s wrong with Chat Noir?”

Marinette frowned, looking troubled. “I don’t know. He seemed really, really upset when Hawkmoth was defeated. It was a tough battle, bad enough that neither of them have returned since, but that doesn’t explain why-”

She trailed off, lost in thought.

A moment later she looked up, meeting Alya’s eyes.

Immediately she waved her hands around, trying to ward off… something. “I- I mean, that’s what I read on the Ladyblog and what I could piece together from video footage, it’s not like I was there, NOPE. I was huddled in my room the entire time. Not like I have any insight into what Chat Noir was acting like during the battle, not beyond what any other civilian would know! That would be ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” she let out a few forced guffaws.

Alya’s eyebrows flew up.

O...Kay…?

Maybe Marinette had been following Ladybug and Chat Noir during the final battle and hadn’t wanted anyone to know? She’d wondered whether Marinette might have a thing for Chat Noir, but her crush on Adrien dwarfed any feelings she might have had for him. Plus it’s not like Marinette would actually know Chat Noir, unlike Adrien.

Thinking about Adrien…

“He must’ve been devastated,” she murmured. Marinette looked at her questioningly. “Adrien, I mean,” Alya clarified. “Having your father turn out to be a terrorist? I can’t even imagine.”

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “Not you TOO,” she said, her voice muffled.

Nino slowly started edging his way behind Marinette.

“What’s your problem with Adrien?” Alya asked. “Did he do something?”

Marinette glanced away. “Not… exactly… I just… I’m afraid that it might all be an act. That he might’ve been helping Hawkmoth secretly, and… and even if he wasn’t before, that he might just be biding his time, waiting until he figures out who Ladybug and Chat Noir and then BAM!” she slammed her fist down on her other hand. “He takes them out, steals all the Miraculous, frees his father and rules Paris FOREVER!”

Alya reached out towards Marinette tentatively. She collapsed into Alya’s arms.

Hugging her tightly, she sang a soft nonsense song, rubbing small circles in Marinette’s back.

She’d done this a few other times since she’d met Marinette, though she’d never thought she’d do it underneath these circumstances.

Whatever these circumstances actually were.

Did everyone have amnesia or…?

“Do you have any big memory gaps?” Alya asked once Marinette’s breathing had calmed down. “Especially from five years ago?”

Marinette shook her head.

She’d shelve that theory for now then. More likely it was…

“An alternate timeline, huh?” Alya said.

Marinette looked up at her questioningly.

“That’s what I think this is,” Alya explained. “I WAS thinking that maybe there’d been some sort of mass amnesia, but if you don’t have any memory gaps - and trust me girl, with how involved you were with Adrien, there WOULD be memory gaps - that seems unlikely. I’m betting this is some sort of alternate universe, one where Adrien never got to go to school.”

“I still don’t get why you think there’s something between me and Adrien!” Marinette said. “I mean sure, he’s pretty, but did I really fall for him just for that?”

Alya shook her head. “Actually, you hated him at first. Chloe’d been bragging about how he was her friend, and with that on top of you catching him trying to remove the gum Chloe’d planted on your seat and mistaking it for him PLANTING the gum… well… both of us just assumed he was a spoiled rich bully, just like Chloe. Luckily that turned out not to be the case.”

“How’d that misunderstanding get cleared up?” Marinette asked. “And how did your Marinette jump from that to crushing on him?”

Alya grinned. Marinette had ranted about this moment to her SO. MANY. TIMES.

“School let out later that day. It was raining and Marinette had forgotten her umbrella, so she hung back a moment, long enough for Adrien to approach her. At first she looked away from him, not wanting to acknowledge his greeting. But then he told you - told her I mean - that he hadn’t done it, promised that he’d just been trying to take it off with such sincerity that she had no choice but to believe it. He opened up to her, even though she’d been shunning him just moments ago. And finally he gave her his umbrella, just because he could. Because it was the kind thing to do. She’s been a goner ever since.”

The Marinette in her arms looked away. “I can see why she might have developed a crush on him. But I still dunno whether I trust him.”

“I don’t know whether I have anything that could convince you on that,” Alya admitted, “especially since this is probably a different timeline, and for all I know he could be evil here. Just make sure that you’re judging him on his own merits, okay? Not who he’s associated with. Not his fault he has so many crappy people in his life.”

“I’ll… take it under consideration,” Marinette said reluctantly.

Marinette looked from side to side. “Where’d Nino go?”

“Oh, he snuck back into the bakery several minutes ago.”

“WHAT?!”

---

Nino opened the door to the bakery, letting out a small sigh of relief. He really wanted to check in on his best friend, and judging by Marinette’s behavior, she wasn’t exactly keen on him or Alya chatting with Adrien.

Thinking back on what he’d just heard, he frowned.

He wished he could say that he’d never have suspected that Gabriel was Hawkmoth.

That he didn’t think Adrien’s old man could ever be capable of such evil.

But he knew better.

The guy threatened to withdraw Adrien from school and isolate him from everyone else at the drop of a hat, paid little attention to his son when he was at home, and was a very negative influence on his life in general. He might have been grieving, but… so was Adrien. He needed the only parent he had left.

And instead Gabriel had chosen to respond by becoming a supervillain and terrorizing Paris, endangering his own son in the process.

He really wished he’d gotten to hit Hawkmoth with his turtle shield more. At least he got to relish the smack he got in.

“You’re back!”

Nino looked towards the voice.

Adrien walked closer to him, a tentative grin on his face. “I didn’t think you’d return so soon!”

“I had to come back to talk to my best friend,” Nino said.

“Best friend?” Adrien asked, blank-faced.

Oh, right. According to Marinette, Adrien hadn’t joined their class. She hadn’t even met Adrien until recently.

Had some sort of memory-wiping akuma attacked? Wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Do you know who I am?” Nino asked, pointing at himself.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… well I know you’re friends with the Ladyblogger and Marinette, and… sorry, that’s it.”

He looked really apologetic, like a dog who’d ripped up a bunch of toilet paper and acted guilty about it once caught.

Hm. If it had been a memory-erasing akuma, maybe he could jog Adrien’s memory…?

And even if it wasn’t, he wanted to let Adrien know that someplace, somewhere, people cared about him. If Marinette’s reaction to him was any indication, he’d need that reassurance. Being looked at with suspicion, having people run from you just because of who your dad was, thinking that you might’ve been involved in his crimes… he couldn’t imagine.

“You joined our class the day after Hawkmoth first attacked,” Nino told him, pulling out his phone.

Adrien shook his head, looking confused. “Uh… no? I wanted to, I REALLY wanted to go to school, but Father-”

He cut himself off, looking away.

“Marinette said the same thing,” Nino told him. “That you hadn’t enrolled in our class, that she’d only met you recently. I don't know what that’s about, whether everyone’s memories were wiped, or an akuma messed with the past, or what.”

Come on, come on, where was it- ah!

He clicked on a photo, one taken a few months ago, holding his phone up so his friend could get a better look.

Adrien squinted for a moment. His eyes widened. “That’s-!”

Nino nodded. “Our class photo. The official one, anyway.” He chuckled. “I liked our unofficial ones better.” Swiping to the side, he showed the new ones the class had taken at the park.

Adrien’s jaw dropped more with every new photo. He let out an involuntary bark of laughter at the one of himself, Nino, Kim, and Juleka posing. “I- I always wanted to mess around like that at photoshoots,” Adrien said. His voice trembled slightly. “But I wouldn’t be able to get away with it. And that’s mostly fun when you can share it with friends, at least share the picture, and I- I couldn’t. Chloe wouldn’t have appreciated it, and L-”

He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Luka?” Nino asked.

He didn’t know why Adrien would know Luka and not anybody else, but he seemed the most likely option.

“Uh…” Adrien scratched the back of his neck, looking away.

Hm, he’d have to see if he had- ah!

“You played in Kitty Section too, with Luka, Rose, Ivan, and Juleka.” Nino explained, clicking on the video.

Adrien’s hands shook as Nino handed him the phone, watching the mini-concert.

“I- I was allowed to- I got to-” Adrien’s voice quavered.

“Not at first.” Nino grimaced, remembering how bummed Adrien had sounded when he called him. “Your old man said that Agrestes were soloists, and that we were all bad influences.”

“HE was the bad influence,” Adrien said. A current of anger, of venom ran through his voice that Nino had never heard before.

“Well I already knew that, even before finding out he was Hawkmoth,” Nino said, making a face. “Dude needed to chill out.”

Adrien snorted. “If he had any ‘chill’ he wouldn’t have decided that becoming a supervillain was the best way to heal my mother.”

Oh.

So THAT was why Gabriel had done it.

He’d just thought it was standard ‘I’m an asshole and want to rule the world while being a jackass to everyone in my life’ behavior.

(He still wasn’t going to rule out that being a factor.)

Nino put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder sympathetically. “At least he’s gone now and you’re free, right?”

“Right,” Adrien said. He didn’t meet Nino’s eyes.

“Not you TOO,” Marinette had said, burying her face in her hands.

As if she found it exasperating that Alya sympathized with Adrien. As if she had expected differently.

Those worries she’d voiced as Nino had been tiptoeing away, about Adrien helping Hawkmoth, about him lying in wait, biding his time… Marinette probably wasn’t the only one to have that concern. And with Adrien’s face being as well-known as it was...

“You AREN’T free, are you?” Nino asked, eyes wide.

Adrien sighed. “I was as surprised as everyone else when I found out who Hawkmoth was. That someone who’s caused that much harm, that much trauma to this city, lived in my own house.” He clenched his fists, digging into his jean’s fabric. “I could barely believe it… no… I didn’t WANT to believe it.”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I- I only remember snippets from right after his arrest. The police chief talking to me. Riding back to the station. It’s all a blur. Everything felt like I was processing it underwater. It was all so blurry and muffled. Even- even then, though, I could feel everyone’s accusing stares.” “I understand why, don’t get me wrong,” he cut in hurriedly. “Who wouldn’t be suspicious of the son of the terrorist who’s been making everyone’s life miserable for the past four years?” Adrien almost panted with exertion, his eyes wild. “And- and it was happening in my own house! Underneath my nose! I should have KNOWN! I could’ve stopped this!”

Reaching out, Nino pulled his friend into a hug.

Adrien stiffened for a moment, before melting into his embrace.

“It’s his fault, not yours,” Nino murmured. “Remember that, dude. He was the adult. He was your parent. Your ONLY remaining parent. I’ve met the guy. And I’ve heard you talk about what he’s like. If you had investigated more?” Nino shuddered, thinking about the disproportionate punishments the bastard had enacted. “And knowing he was HAWKMOTH on top of that? I’m kinda glad you didn’t. Yeah, maybe you could’ve ended things sooner. Or maybe he would’ve hurt you more before you had the chance. I’m just glad you survived.”

“I-” Adrien’s throat sounded tight. “I’m- I’m glad I survived too.”

They stood there for a moment, Nino feeling Adrien’s breath go in-and-out, his heartbeat racing, until it gradually started to slow.

*ring ring*

Adrien and Nino broke up their hug just as Marinette burst through the door, Alya on her heels. She skidded to a halt in front of Adrien - but not quite in time, sending her careening towards the floor.

She never made contact.

“Woah!” Adrien shouted, catching her in his arms.

Nino detected a hint of pink to Marinette’s cheeks before she abruptly sprang to her feet.

“So, uh,” Marinette said awkwardly. “I’m guessing Nino talked to you about some stuff. I mean, of course he talked to you about stuff, because that’s what talking is about. What- what I mean is, what were you two talking about?”

“I wanted to show him how much we care about him,” Nino told her. “Especially since with this… amnesia?”

“I think it’s an alternate timeline,” Alya said.

“Especially since in this timeline,” Nino continued, “it really doesn’t seem like he had anyone.”

“I had a couple other friends,” Adrien told him quietly, giving a melancholic smile. “But I lost contact with them right after Hawkmoth’s defeat.”

Noticing Nino’s frown, he hastily added, “they didn’t abandon me or anything! They were online friends. One moved somewhere without internet reception, and the other... we never knew each other’s names. But we talked all the time. We chatted, laughed, defeated villains together…”

“In the video games we played, of course!” he added after a moment. He chuckled fondly. “We played as a team. Together, we were unstoppable, no matter what our opponent threw at us.”

Adrien swallowed. “But in the aftermath of Hawkmoth’s defeat, with all the turmoil, with everything that happened… I lost my means of contacting her. I- I don’t know whether I’ll ever get to see her again.”

“We’d promised to meet up after Hawkmoth’s defeat,” Adrien said. His voice cracked. “That- that once it was safer in Paris, we’d finally tell our names.”

His eyes dropped to the ground. “Instead, we lost each other. Maybe for good.”

“I know what that’s like,” Marinette said. She sounded strangely distant. “I had a friend like that too. I cared about him. A lot. Maybe… maybe even as more than a friend.” She said the last part haltingly, as if she’d only just admitted it to herself. “He- he wanted to know who I was. For me to know who he was. But- but I couldn’t do that. Not in Hawkmoth’s Paris. I already cared for him so much it ached. If I was closer to him than that- if I’d accepted his rose- I’m- I’m afraid Hawkmoth might’ve used the strength of those feelings against me. That I could’ve gotten akumatized, or he might’ve, and if we knew who each other was, knew WHERE the other one was… I just… I couldn’t accept that we might be sent to hurt each other.”

“We talked while the final battle was raging,” she continued. “He seemed really upset, more angry than I’ve ever seen him before, but… also kind of sad. I wanted to know what was wrong, but there wasn’t really time to press him. And after that battle he just… disappeared. I knew there was going to be some sort of disruption, but- but I’d thought we’d have more time to talk beforehand, that we’d be able to exchange new contact information. We were cut off before we had the chance.”

“I- I think of him every day,” she said quietly. “Wondering how he’s doing. He was always so positive, no matter what life threw at us. I hope that wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he hasn’t lost that positivity, that optimism, the ability to see the best in the world and in others.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to know you cared for him so much,” Adrien said, giving her a warm smile.

Marinette blinked, giving herself a small shake. She turned to Alya. “I dunno whether you’ll remember any of this after the Ladybug in your time restores anything, but on the off-chance you do, is there anything you need to know?”

“Oh!” Alya pulled up some footage. “You told me who Hawkmoth was, but what about Mayura?”

“Mayura?”

“Who?”

Alya snapped her fingers. “You know, the Peacock Miraculous wielder, the one summoning the sentimonsters! Did she not exist in this universe?”

She pulled up part of the fight against Mayura, the sentimonster Ladybug, and Hawkmoth.

The video ended, she took another glance at Marinette and Adrien.

Marinette seemed to be in shock, staring straight ahead.

Adrien frowned, thinking. “I’d wondered for a long time how Father managed to hide his supervillain activities from Nathalie, considering she was around him most of the time. I thought maybe she was just really good at never asking questions.”

He grimaced. “Looking at that? I’m betting she didn’t ask questions because she already knew the answers.”

“You think Mayura’s Nathalie?” Alya questioned.

He nodded. “Unless something’s different in your universe. My father doesn’t have a lot of associates, and the way he acted around Mayura there, how he was willing to pass up a chance to fight Ladybug for her Miraculous in exchange for catching her… the only people I can think of who he’d do that for are my mother and Nathalie, and mom…” he trailed off.

“I- I didn’t even think about that,” Marinette said guiltily. “I remember reading something about Gabriel having a secretary, but I didn’t think about her much beyond that.”

“Maybe you could ask this universe’s Alya to post something on the Ladyblog, telling Ladybug and Chat Noir she has a lead on who Mayura is?” Alya said. “I mean, I know they haven’t shown up in ages, but maybe that’s just because they haven’t had reason to.”

Marinette winced. “I… really don’t think that’s it… plus Ladybug and Chat Noir never said that someone was helping Hawkmoth. Mayura never appeared, at least in public. I don’t know what we can do about this right now, especially without proof. Maybe if Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared, but…”

She sounded doubtful. Alya was beginning to think that the final battle was even worse than Marinette had alluded to.

She hesitated a moment, before turning to Adrien. “I- I think I owe you an apology. I thought you might’ve been helping Hawkmoth, but… well… I was just judging you by who your dad was. You’ve been nothing but sweet and kind.”

Adrien smiled at her, though it was slightly strained. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. A lot of people in this city have suffered at Hawkmoth’s hands. I don’t blame them for being scared, or angry at any reminders of him.”

“That doesn’t make it RIGHT,” Marinette said heatedly.

Nino nodded. “Dude just because something’s done to you it doesn’t mean it’s justified, or that it shouldn’t be made better. Like with your old man forbidding parties. I didn’t let that stop me from bribing your bodyguard into letting me and the other guys throw a party at your place for you!”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It kinda escalated though. I think half the guys at Paris were partying in your room by the end!”

Alya gave Nino a sideways look. “And ONLY the guys because they ditched us girls while we were planting trees with a lame excuse. Seriously if you’d said you wanted to throw a party for Adrien while his dad was away, you could’ve just told us!”

Nino winced. “Yeah, my bad. At least we got to have fun there for a while before the akuma attack.”

“Akuma attack?” Adrien asked, eyes wide. “But I thought you said Father was gone!”

“He was- OOOOOOOH.”

“Yeeaaaah I don’t think he was actually gone,” Alya said. “You threw a ‘secret’ party in Hawkmoth’s house, WHILE he was still at home.”

Adrien gaped at Nino. “How’re you not DEAD?!”

Nino chuckled. “Lucky I guess?”

*twinkle twinkle*

A familiar red mass flew towards Alya and Nino.

Adrien’s eyes widened.

“Behind the portrait!” he blurted out, just as the two of them were enveloped by the ladybugs, spiriting them off to whence they came.

It was silent for a moment.

“Do you think they heard?” Adrien asked Marinette.

“I hope so,” she said, looking off in the direction the ladybugs flew.

She turned to him. “I was planning on setting up some hang out time with Alya and Nino later this week. If you’re not busy… would you like to join?”

His smile told her everything she needed to know.

#bakery enemies au #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #marinette dupain cheng #buggachat

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xgryffinwhore · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can I request a jaeden martell x reader where basically their charters are dating on a tv show and they are really really good best friends in real life and they they both go on the Jimmy fallon show and he keeps on asking if they’re dating because everyone thinks they are and when they say no he obvi doesn’t let it go lol and it ends up slipping up that jaeden did/ does have a crush on reader and they maybe end up sharing a kiss in front is Jimmy & audience & stuff😶just an idea i had 😂:)

i love this idea wow, thinking i’m going to put my own little twist on it but i think you’ll still be pleased ;)

just friends

warnings!: suggestive topics, fluff

word count: 2.1k

five

your face was being touched up with powder, the cotton pad dabbing at your nose as the white powder absorbed into any oil your face may have had.

four

you look over at jimmy, this wasn’t your first talk show, but it had been the biggest one with the most following. it was intimidating, you bounced your foot up and down and played with your hands.

three

behavior jaeden had grown to recognize. he knew you better then you knew yourself, your anxiety was worse then you put it out to be. “you ok?” he questioned, “fine, i’m fine” you painted a small smile on your face. but he wasn’t easily fooled.

two

he grabbed one of your hands and rubbed circles into your palm, this sent vibrations of relaxation down your spine.

one

his eyes locked with yours, you swore they were a different color each time you saw them. sometimes more blue, sometimes more green, sometimes dark with mystery, sometimes light and playful.

‘aaand where on air’

you wiped the hand that was interlocked with his off on your dress, it was clammy. the curtain came up fast, and your vision was soon flooded with bright lights and silhouettes of bodies.

making out the faces in the sea of people was impossible, but you knew your friends were out there. they had flown out to see you, a) they could go see new york and b) you were on national television, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

jimmy was talking, you knew that much, but your nerves took over and honestly you weren’t registering a damn thing he was saying. the crowd cheered, you snapped out of your daze.

“and here tonight, we have jaeden martell and y/n l/n from the new HBO tv series: turning tables”

he turned to both of us, and gave everyone time to clap. he tired to speak over the loud hands, moving on with his show, but the crowd made that difficult. eventually the clapping died out and he could continue.

“now, i’ve watched all of the episodes but, for the people who haven’t seen: can you explain what the show is about?” he looked a jaeden, you let go of a breathe you had held in.

“s-sure” jaeden turned to face the audience more, he was soft spoken and shy, so it was important he projected as much as he could.

“turning tables is a teen drama. it’s about families of poverty in the seattle washington area and how they struggle to go to school and work. my character, jennings cooper, is the main protagonist. the show is mainly from his point of view, and how he struggle to support his family.”

jimmy nods and smiles, he looks pleased with his explanation. i’m truth the show wasn’t that simple, he knew that. but, it would take so long to explain.

“and y/n, who do you play?” he knew the answer to this obviously, but you were becoming a crowd favorite. everyone loved your personality, and you were an up-and-coming a list celebrity.

“i play parker marlow, jennings girlfriend” you blushed at this statement, the crowd giggled and ‘ouuu’ed. jimmy rubbed his hands together, getting excited at the upcoming topic of discussion.

“so, your romance on season one was steamy” you thought back to the scenes you did together. all of the kissing, which felt normal at this point. he wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact- you didn’t mind it at all. your romance through the season built up to a sex scene, your mind flashed through the memories of filming it.

filming those scenes isnt half as steamy as you think it is. it’s awkward, you laugh a lot. you had never felt that exposed in your life! however watching it was different, it looked so real, so perfect.

you blurred out your thoughts, mr. fallon still speaking on the subject. “can we expect more -“ jimmy searched for your ship name, it was on the tip of his tongue. the combination of your first names on the show didn’t make an attractive combo. it was either jarker or pennings. your last names matched a little better.

“-carlow” jaeden finished for him. jimmy nodded and smiled “yes- carlow- can we expect more carlow next season?” you both looked at each other and smiled. the writers for the show already had the next four seasons laid out. you knew that carlow was a continuing relationship on the show.

“yes, you should expect more of that sort of content from us” you stated. the people in the crowd had a positive responce to this, the applause lapping until it died out once again.

“right, your characters have so much chemistry in the show. two struggling teens just trying to break even.” jaeden agreed “yes, our characters balance each other out, and being from the same background helps them associate. jennings is kind of a bad boy-as the ladies say- he’s a felon, he steels cars and sells them to counterfeit manufacturers and dealers for money. parker, y/n’s character, has a job at a diner. she shows him the light at the end of the tunnel if he chooses to go down a good path.”

“yes, parker gets jennings a job at the diner with her, and he falls for her sweet disposition even after everything she’s been through” you add.

jimmy licks his lips and pops another question: “so id imagine the chemistry in the show heightens the real life thing?” he cocked an eye brow, the group gasping at the intrusiveness.

“jaeden and i are just friends” you blurt out, your nerves working up again. it was hard, you liked jaeden ever since you had your first kiss with him.

“y-yeah” he stutters, he obviously wasn’t expecting this either “friends” jimmy shakes his head and puts his finger on his lip “recently, you both have been showing a lot of pictures of you two together on social media.”

the audience ‘awwwed’ at the photos that displayed behind you. on the screen, there were pictures of you and him that were on both of your instagrams. you two at gardens, getting food, even watching movies at each other’s houses.

“for just friends, these photos looks intimate , wouldn’t you say” a bunch of ‘yes’’s and ‘mhm’’s came from the crowd as both of your faces became red.

“we’re just best friends, honestly” jaeden laughed nervously, he fixed his hair with his hand has he always does.

“right right- can you tell me when this photo is from?” jimmy asked, the last picture flashing on the screen. it was of you both, you had just filmed your first scene together.

the first scene you filmed together was episode two, he saved you after you fell into ice cold water. it was how the characters met, and it was filmed at a cove on a windy august day.

the picture was a little blurry, but it added character. he had his arm around you, both of your hair soaked, and you share a huge towel. you remember how cold you were, your teeth chattered so rapidly. his hair was stuck to his forehead and more small pieces went up. and your lips were almost purple, half from the makeup, half because you swore that was the coldest water you had ever went in.

“that’s from when we first started filming, it was the first time we met in the show” you recited, re living the memory in your head. you remember jaeden pulling your head into his chest when the wind began blowing. you remember his thumb trying to create friction on your back to make you just a little warm.

“yes yes- you two look so adorable!” jimmy squealed, he was the most teenage-girl-grown-man you had ever met. his hand opened one of the drawers in the faux desk he sat behind, pulling out a small blue camcorder.

the camcorder.

you know how on tv shows, there is special footage? sometimes it’s just behind the scene specials but sometimes- sometimes - it’s footage the actors document when they were just having fun? yeah it was one of those camcorders.

the camcorder was brought in by the two other co hosts wyatt oleff and finn wolfhard (i know this cast is sooo original not really) they played jaedens two best friends on the show. while they weren’t filming, they’d dick around and talk about stupid stuff. you’d never seen what they filmed, but you had been featured quite a few times; their by them pranking you, or invading your personal space.

you looked over at jaeden, you watched his adam’s apple bob and a thin layer of sweat flush over his face. he bounced his leg slightly, a habit he had picked up from you.

“let’s just review our material here” jimmy teased, his tongue darting out between his teeth. the video began to play, the sound was loud; assumingely for jaeden quiet voice in the tape.

the video started with wyatts unsteady hand, him and finn were running around set, they stopped at jaeden, he was playing on his phone in his trailer.

“jaeden wesley we have come for you” finn yelled. you could see jaeden shoot up from his chair. “hey guys” he waved. they talked for around a minute, jokes and all. then finn started to giggle, wyatt zoomed in on jaedens face.

“so jaeden, how’s y/n?” he chuckled, jaeden blushed “she’s ok i guess dunno.” wyatt stopped zooming in when the only thing in frame was jaedens head. “the kiss was good hm?” wyatt asked. jaeden continued to play on his phone, he nodded. “yeah, she’s pretty cute too.”

the video cut to another segment, this was filmed after the sex scene. you knew because jaeden laid on the bed you, in the same underwear that he wore during the scene. the boys were jumping on the bed, and jaeden took the camera and talked to it.

“this is for memory and memory ONLY! h-hey y/nnn” he was talking to the camera like it was you “you’re amazing and cool” you could hear finn explode into laughter as he stole the camera back and started running “yeah! and he wants your babies and loves you so much-“ “SHUT UP FINN!!!” and jaeden chased him around.

the video was taken off the screen. your face had become close to ghostly white. it was weird, it was almost like he was dumb enough to think finn wouldn’t give jimmy this blackmail goldmine. you looked at jaeden, he hit his bottom lip until it was red, he itches his neck and laughed it off.

“yeah ok-ok jimmy, maybe i liked her back in the day” jaeden tried so hard to be casual, but jimmy hit him with a heart stopper: “but mr martell, the last clip was filmed less then a month ago!”

your mind flickered with memories and ideas of him.

your first time meeting, how good his hand felt in yours. when you wiped icecream off his chin, and him dotting icecream on to the top of your nose. the way his hair always fell perfectly above his eye brow. and SHIT how he always smelt so fucking good. how he let you fall asleep in his arms and how he never complained when you put on some stupid romcom and-

“y/n?” jimmy questioned. “huh?” you spaced, come on y/n you gotta stop doing that. “i asked how you felt about all of this.” “well, there isn’t a right word i can use.”

jaeden took this has a bad reaction, he did a small wave to the crowd and stood up to get off the stage.

you stood up, grabbed his hand, and laid one right on him. kissing him felt normal, but now that there was emotion behind it, it just felt so right.

you both stopped for air, the crowd went wild. jimmy was clapping too, you could barley hear them, your heart was pumping throughout your whole body. you swore jaeden could hear it.

after the show, you sat in your dressing room for a bit, contemplating the events of tonight, and how they were all broadcasted for your embarrassment. but it was only the beginning. only the beginning of what was to come for mr. and mrs. jaeden martell.

#jaeden martell #jaeden martell fic #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell fluff #jaeden wesley #jaeden lieberher #jaeden #jaeden fic #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x you #bill denbrough fanfic #it move #imagine #it fanfiction #aged up

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 11 months

Text

Burnin’ Up - Firefighter!Chris AU (Part 18: Moving On and Up)

Summary: While you continue to recover and move on, Chris has one last demon to face.

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! Language! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Meet the Characters!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 18: Moving On and Up

You had been attending therapy twice a week now for three weeks and despite how against it you were in the beginning you were so glad Chris had convinced you to give it a shot. Each session left you feeling emotionally raw and exhausted but after each session Chris would be there to wrap his arms around you and help nurse you through your emotional hangover.

You’d began to open up to him too, telling him more stories from your childhood. He would try his best not to let his anger show but you’d remind him that it was okay for him to get angry. You were angry too and it felt nice to know he was that protective over you.

On the days Chris had to work, Ben would visit if he could. The pair of you would sit down on the couch together and stick on a film or two only to pay very little attention to it as you talked about pretty much anything. He would tell you about Matt and the fun they had been getting up to together, you’d tell him how you were doing, he’d then apologise for not saying anything about your father sooner, you’d tell him that he’d had nothing to apologise for and that you understood why.

He'd asked you when you thought you might return to work but you just didn’t have an answer. When he would tell you about the cases he was working on you felt envious, you didn’t like that you were missing out on the action but you just didn’t feel like you could just walk back into work right now. you weren’t sure where you stood with policing anymore.

“is there anything bothering you that you want to discuss during our session today?” Sally asks pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm?” you hum glancing up from the sleeping pup that was currently curled up in your lap “I uh I dunno really” you admit with a small shrug of your shoulders.

“has anything been playing on your mind?” she continues.

You nibbled your lower lip, nodding your head as you looked down at the puppy in your lap, its silky golden fur calming you as you stroked it “I guess I’ve been thinking about work a bit recently” you confess.

Sally nods her head gently “Okay, what about it?” she questions.

“well Benny has been visiting me whenever he can, keeping me company while Chris is on shift and we’ve started talking more about what he’s been up to and the cases he’s worked on” you explain.

“Okay, and how have you felt discussing work again?” she asks you.

You give her another small shrug of the shoulders “Fine I guess, you know it's been nice and it felt almost normal because a lot of time we are talking and discussing the cases we’re working on but…” you say trailing off at the end.

“this time he’s working them without you and you feel like you’re missing out” Sally finishes for you, you let out a long and deep sigh, nodding your head in confirmation “Have you thought about returning to work?” she then asks

“a little but… I just don’t think I’m ready yet” you admit with a shake of your head looking down.

“and why’s that? What do you think is holding you back?” Sally asks you.

You take a deep breath, worrying over your lip as you glanced out of the window beside you. Sally remained quiet as you gazed out of the window, allowing you time to process your thoughts and find a way to verbalise them.

“I just- I worry that I’ll be watched” you admit “Which part of me knows is stupid because my father knows he’s been caught and like any other… criminal,” you say struggling over the word criminal because it just didn’t feel right “he would have gone to ground, lying low until it blew over, but then I also worry that other people will look at me differently, they won’t know why I’ve been off work for over a month but they’ll wonder and they’ll gossip” you continue shaking your head, face pinching together in frustration “and I just don’t know where I stand with being a cop anymore”

Sally frowns slightly, her head tilting as she looked back at you “What do you mean by that?” she asks.

“well I- it was my father that got me into policing” you explain “It was something I could ask him about as a kid and he’d openly talk about it with me, he’d be happy to take me on stakeouts or ride around in his patrol car, it was him that made me fall in love with it”

“And do you think you might have chosen a different career if things had been different? If your mother had survived?” Sally questions.

“I don’t know” you admit weakly with a small sniffle as you look down.

You hear Sally get up from her chair making you glance up and you see her grabbing a box of tissues, holding them out for you. you whisper a thanks as you take a couple and start dabbing away your tears. She then sits back down and gives you a few minutes just to compose yourself.

“Okay firstly I want you to know that the anxieties you are feeling are completely normal for anyone who has experienced a work-based trauma,” she tells you reassuringly “and there is also nothing wrong with starting from scratch in a new career”

You nod your head “I just don’t know what else I’d want to do” you admit.

“that’s okay we can sort that, there’s lots of quizzes and resources out there that can help you find out what kind of career might suit you” she reassures you “So what I want you to do in between now and the our next session is for you to just do some research into other careers and see if any of them excite you, do you think you can do that?” she asks.

“yeah, I can do that” you nod, earning a warm smile in response.

As usual, Chris made sure you had a comfy and cosy evening following your session. He ran you a bath, one that you both enjoyed together, you relaxing back into his chest and nearly falling asleep.

He then made you one of your favourite comfort meals and you both sat down to sit down to watch one of your favourite sit-coms. Once you had eaten you grabbed your laptop and started researching different careers like you promised Sally you would.

When Chris questioned what you were doing you explained what you had talked about in your session today. You could tell by the small pinch of his brows and the way the corners of his lips twitched downwards that he didn’t like what he was hearing. You knew he didn’t like the idea that your father was potentially pushing you out of the job you loved, the one that helped bring you and Chris together. But he then put on a smile that you knew was sincere and promised to help you in any way you could.

Over the next couple of days, you continued to research different careers and industries hoping that one of them would catch your attention and spark something but there was nothing. You took a couple of quizzes but all they told you was that you suited a career in the emergency services.

You were starting to think maybe you just needed to switch to a different emergency service but you weren’t sure. You wondered about switching to being a firefighter, you thought about talking to Chris about it, but you weren’t sure how he would react. He could love it because it meant you could actually work together, but he could also absolutely hate the idea because he knew just how dangerous it was.

The doorbell ringing pulled you from your worrying, you breathed a sigh of relief for the moment of reprieve that it gave you. pushing your laptop off your lap you make your way over to the front door, surprised to find Robert stood the other side holding a box.

“hi Y/N, sorry for dropping around unannounced but Chris asked me to drop this around to him” Robert smiles nodding down to the box in his hands.

“oh, he’s out at work at the moment,” you say as he passes you the box.

“I know they’re doing an emergency first aid refresher today, I just was in the area and thought might as well” Robert explains with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“yeah of course, I’ll let him know you dropped by” you smile putting the box down just inside the house.

“Sure, oh um before I forget I noticed one of your car tires is flat” Robert says gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“oh really? I haven’t driven it in a while” you say frowning in confusion.

“Probably just a slow puncture then, easy to miss but it's completely flat now” Robert sighs glancing over towards your car.

You whisper a small curse “Okay, thanks for letting me know I’ll call a garage and see if they can come pick it up”

“oh don’t waste your money on recovery, why don’t I help you change the tire now and then you can just drive it to the garage when you’re ready” Robert suggests.

“oh no it's okay, I’m sure you have lots of other important things to be getting on with,” you say waving the idea off.

“nonsense, it won’t take long at all some get some shoes on and we’ll get started” Robert smiles already walking off towards your car.

You let out a small sigh before sliding on some trainers and grabbing your car keys from the small dish by the front door. As you shut the front door behind you, you spot Robert standing on the other side of your car hands on his hips as he looked down at your flat tire with his lips pursed. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you recognised all the same mannerisms that you saw in Chris, they might not look very similar but they definitely acted in the same way.

Walking over you join him on the other side of the car letting out a low whistle when you saw just how flat your tire was “Jeez, almost looks like it’s been purposefully flattened” you comment as you bend down to get a better look.

“uh yeah, have you done this before?” Robert asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“no never got taught how to, figured I’d just google it if I got a flat while on the road” You shrug as you stand back up, you expected to see a sympathetic smile after revealing something else your father failed at, but as you look back over at Robert but all you saw was a fatherly smile.

“Well, it's never too late to learn a valuable skill, c’mon” he smiles patting you on the shoulder.

For the next half an hour Robert taught you how to change a tire, showing you how to jack up the car and loosen the bolts. He got you to do a couple of the bolts after he’d show you how. He was kind and patient and answered any questions you had without making you feel stupid for asking them.

He was just putting the damaged tired back in your car ready for whenever you took it to the garage when you decided to ask him a question “Do you think I’d be a good firefighter?”

Robert pauses for a moment, his eyes scanning over you before he stands back to his full height and closes the trunk “Why’d you ask?” he questions.

“I’ve been considering leaving the police force after you know… my therapist suggested doing quizzes to find out what I might be good at and all of them said a job in the emergency services so I thought maybe joining the fire department” you explain wrapping your arms around you as you spoke.

Robert nods his head a couple of times “Well honestly I think you’d be a great firefighter, we’d be extremely lucky to have you” he tells you “but I think you’d be a better detective” he finishes catching you by surprise.

“Really?” you mutter your eyes still wide in surprise.

“yeah, Chris talks about you a lot and I’ve seen the work you’ve done and it's incredible, there’s so many bad apples that the community needs an officer like you” Robert nods as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I think if you leave the police force you’ll regret it, especially because it means he won,” he says squeezing your shoulder.

You take a deep shaky breath realising he was right, your father had given you an ultimatum. Choose Chris or your job. By staying with Chris and leaving the police force you would be letting him win, he would be getting his way. You wanted both.

“I understand why you’d be hesitant to jump straight back in but you’ll get there because your one strong gal, and I don’t mean the way you nailed Chris with that softball” Robert smirks making you let out a watery laugh.

“thank you Robert” you smile over at him.

“it's nothing, and if you ever need anything just let me know okay?” He tells you squeezing your shoulder.

“I promise” you nod, for a second you went in to hug him but hesitated.

Robert must have seen your hesitation because he then pulled you in and hugged you instead. You instantly breathed out a sigh of relief as you hugged him back, getting the first fatherly hug you’d had in years.

Things felt normal. Or as close to normal as things could be. Chris could see you coming more and more out of your shell every day, smiling, laughing and even playfully challenging him. You still had moments when you would disappear into yourself a memory that you didn’t want to remember unearthing itself. But you would just make your way over to him and seek comfort from him. He’d ask if you wanted to talk about it, sometimes you did, and sometimes you just wanted him to hold him, either way, it wasn’t long until that dark cloud disappeared and a genuine smile would return to your face.

You had even begun to get out more, you and Chris spending the day with the kids at the park, or going over to Ben and Matt’s for dinner. You had admitted to him that you still felt hesitant going out, paranoid that your father was still watching you. But you were done with letting him control your life, so Chris watched as you stepped out the door with your head held high, proudly holding his hand. Giving your father a metaphorical middle finger and Chris was insanely proud. You were so much stronger than he felt he’d ever be.

Chris was just clearing up all the plates from dinner while you were in the living room with the kids helping them pack up all the stuff they brought over. Chris was just drying his hands when he heard you and all the kids laugh loudly, walking back out he found you all sat on the couch. Stella was sitting in your lap, the two boys on either side all playing with the face filters on your new phone.

“What are you troublemakers getting up to?” Chris asked as he leant over the back of the couch and into frame of the camera, the kids all screaming with laughter when the filter moved onto his face making him look like an old lady “Oh gahd I look like Nana Lisa” he comments making the kids laugh hysterically.

“you’re a very pretty old lady” you chuckle looking over your shoulder at him.

Chris winks back at you “Glad to hear it” he smirks, leaning down to peck you on the lips just as the doorbell went “That’ll be your dad” he tells the kids.

“aww already? Can’t we stay longer?” Miles whines pouting up at Chris.

“Sorry pal we’ll hang out soon I promise, make sure you have everything while I let him in,” Chris tells them as he moves towards the door.

As he goes he hears the kids whine some more but then he heard Stella asking you to help put her shoes on, something that made his heart melt and a warm smile grow on his face. when he opened the front door he greeted Ryan with a handshake as he let him in.

“Thanks for having them again, they been good?” Ryan asks as the two of them walk back towards the living room.

“oh they were terrible” Chris sighs dramatically, trying not to laugh when the kids all shouted and called him a liar “Absolute terrors, I think they should go to bed with no dessert” Chris continues as the boys jump onto his back trying to cover his mouth “I’m joking, I’m joking” he finally caves, laughing as he pulls the boys off him.

“They were good as gold as always” You smile, your arm around Stella’s shoulders as you walked over.

“glad to hear it, c’mon kids it's getting late say goodbye to Uncle Chris and Y/N” Ryan says as he began to herd the kids back to the front door.

“Bye Uncle Chris! Bye Auntie Y/N!” The kids all called out as they dashed back out to the car.

Chris’ brows rise in surprise a wide smile creeping onto his face as he glanced over at you to see you biting your lower lips to stop yourself from smiling too widely. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side and pressed a kiss to your temple which made your smile fully break out.

The two of your wave goodbye to the kids, watching as the car drives down the drive and onto the main road. Once out of view Chris closed the door and turned around to face you “Glass of wine?” he suggests.

“sounds perfect” you smile with a content sigh.

Chris grins back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead “Okay you go get comfy and I’ll go pour us some” he says his hand moving to the small of your back as he stepped away.

Walking into the kitchen he grabbed the bottle of white that was already in the fridge and poured out a serving for the both of you. when he made his way back into the living room you had already made yourself comfy, a blanket draped over your lap.

You smiled warmly up at him as he passed you your glasses and sat down next to you, your legs moving to rest over his lap. He smiled lazily as he tugged the blanket over your legs before resting his hand on top of your knee.

“cheers Auntie Y/N” Chris smirked as held his glass up in a toast.

You smiled bashfully but lifted your glass to meet his “Cheers Uncle Chris” you chuckled lightly, Chris smiling warmly back his eyes never leaving your face as he took a sip.

For the next half an hour or so you just relax, sipping on your wine. The TV was on but neither Chris nor you were paying much attention. You were just quietly chatting, you telling him about what the kids got up to when he was out of the room, Chris smiling warmly over at you, his hand running up and down your leg.

The sound of the doorbell ringing disrupted your tale, making you and Chris frown and look at each other in confusion “One of the kids must have left something” Chris sighs moving to get up.

“Relax, I’ll go get it,” you say putting your hand on his chest and getting up from the couch, putting your wine glass down on the coffee table.

Chris went to protest but you were already on your way to the front door, so instead he began scanning the room trying to spot whatever it was that the kids left. He was just about to get up from the couch to look underneath it when he heard a pair of footsteps approaching.

Looking over he frowned in confusion as you walked in with his dad who was still in his Chief’s Uniform “Sorry to burst in on your night off but I’ve got some bad news” Robert sighs apologetically.

“is it about my father?” you ask quietly, standing off to the side your arms wrapping around your waist making Chris want to rush over and hug you.

“no, no it's not don’t worry” Robert is quick to reassure you, Chris noticed the sigh of relief you breathed out “It's about Captain Jeffords,” Robert says turning to look at Chris.

“What happened?” Chris asks his brows furrowing in concern.

“he was clearing out the guttering on his house and took a nasty fall, shattered his hip” Robert explains with a sigh.

“shit. Is he okay?” You mutter your eyes wide with shock.

“yeah he was lucky, but his hip was so damaged they’re having to completely replace it so he’s going to be on medical leave for an extended period of time” Robert explains.

Chris internally curses, his dad’s visit suddenly making sense. He was here to promote Chris to captain, something Chris had been trying to avoid. He’d been using the excuse that he didn’t want to take charge of a different crew thinking that there was no way Jeffords would leave or retire, meaning there was no way for Chris to be promoted.

“Dad I-“ Chris starts taking a deep breath ready to convince him not to do this.

“Chris I’m not automatically promoting you, but I do need you to be acting Captain until I can organise a more permanent replacement” Robert interrupts holding his hand out with a knowing look in his eyes.

Chris couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that escaped his lips, he also didn’t miss the way your brows furrowed slightly in confusion “How long?” Chris asked.

“only a couple weeks, 3 at most” Robert answers “So is that a yes?”

“yeah, yeah sure” Chris managed to say, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest, he could do this, it was only two or three weeks, and the chances of something going wrong in that time were small.

“Good, I’ll let you explain the situation to the rest of the crew and I’ll give Jennings a heads up as well” Robert nods before glancing over at you “I’ll you get back to your evening, see you at the station Chris”

“yeah- sure see you at the station” Chris says his voice still hoarse as he awkwardly nodded.

Robert gives Chris one last small smile before saying he’d let himself out and making his way out of the living room. As soon as he was gone you made your way across the room, sitting down and resting your hand on his arm.

“wanna talk about it?” you offer softly.

He knew he shouldn’t but he instantly closed up “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said quickly, shaking his head at the idea.

You just gave him a knowing look and said “Chris…”

“It's fine, it's just a bit of a surprise that’s all, I’m worried about Jeffords he must hate not being able to work for months” Chris shrugs trying and failing to sound convincing.

“Chris, you are a terrible liar” you say shooting him another knowing look making him sigh deeply “C’mon tell me what’s on that mind of yours” you say gently tapping his forehead “You’ve helped me work through so much so let me repay the favour”

“I’m scared, I’ve never wanted to be a Captain” Chris admitted quietly, looking down at his lap.

“Okay, why is that?” you ask softly, your hand moving to run up and down his arm soothingly.

“well my dad has always wanted me to work up the ranks, he didn’t want me to make the same mistakes that he did, the higher up you are the more flexibility you have and the balance is better” Chris explains “For a really long time I didn’t need that balance, I didn’t think that I would be lucky enough to find someone that I’d want that balance for, until you that is” he looks over at you and see the soft smile on your face “I’ve always pushed back against every promotion, only took them when I felt ready and deserving, especially when my dad became chief”

“I get that, I was the same with my father, I didn’t want anyone to think I was getting special treatment when really it was the complete opposite” You sigh shaking your head as you looked down.

Chris reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently “I knew my crew would get it because they knew me but other crews in the city would just see me as the chief’s son so I said I’d consider it if Jeffords retired since everyone knows that Jeffords would never retire so I thought I was safe but clearly not” he sighs.

“what do you mean by safe?” you ask frowning slightly as you tilted your head.

“that I wouldn’t ever have that responsibility on my shoulders, the responsibility to keep everyone safe and ensure we save everyone… if something went wrong it would be my fault and I don’t think I could handle that pressure” Chris finally admits “I mean just hearing how much my crew rely on me already just freaks me out and it would only get worse if I became captain”

You let out a long sigh as you run your thumb back and forth over the back of his hand “I understand, it’s scary taking on that responsibility but you wouldn’t have been asked to do so if they didn’t think you could do it” you reassure him “I’ve seen you on the job and you practically command the team already and they trust you, they’d know that you wouldn’t lead them in blindly”

“but what if I make a bad call, like at the apartment building fire when I got hurt” Chris argues shaking his head.

“well let me ask you this, would you have instructed anyone else to do what you did?” you ask him shifting to face him more.

Chris didn’t even need to think about it “fuck no” he states shaking his head.

“Exactly, you would never risk someone else’s life if you weren’t sure it was safe,” you tell him with a knowing look “You were only reckless with your own life, which I hope I won’t be doing any more”

Chris couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle “No I won’t I promise” he smile gently over at you.

You smile back at him, reaching up to cup his cheek and kissing him softly “Good, now I know you don’t believe it but they believe it you, I believe it you, and like your dad said it's only for a couple of weeks so if you really hate it, it’s not forever if you don’t want it to be”

Chris let out another long sigh as he took in your words, he knew you were right but he still didn’t feel completely comfortable with it. He couldn’t stop himself from worrying that this was going to be a massive mistake.

“Just give it a shot, you might end up loving it and you won’t know if you don’t try,” you say your thumb brushing over his bearded cheek.

His gaze rose to meet yours. Your eyes shone with unfiltered faith in his, it wasn’t that long ago that those same eyes appeared dull and empty. You were bravely facing demons and working through decades of trauma, it made his issue seem insignificant. So even though he still wasn’t convinced he nodded his head.

“thank you babe” he whispered leaning in to rest his forehead against yours to help ground him.

“Anything for you” you muttered back, kissing him softly.

Walking through the grocery store list in hand, you worked your way through the list making sure you had everything you needed for tomorrow. Chris had done so much for you the past few weeks, in many ways he’d saved your life. Brought you back from the darkness and the storm that your father had brought upon you. so you decided you wanted to treat him to say thank you, because just saying the words didn’t seem enough.

You were just picking up some fresh fruit when you felt your phone ringing in your pocket. Gently putting the melon you were holding in the cart, you grabbed your phone, frowning when you saw it was Paul that was calling you.

“hey Paulie is everything okay?” you ask trying not to worry yourself too much before you found out why he was calling you mid-shift.

“Hi Y/N, um yeah it’s Chris” he greeted making your heart stop for a split second “he’s fine he’s not hurt,” Paul said quickly when he heard your breath catch “Something just seems up, he’s practically locked himself in his office, isn’t even letting Dodger in”

“oh” you mutter your brows pinching together “Have you spoken to him? Has he said anything”

“I tried but just said he was fine and just had a lot to get on with but I could just tell he was lying, and I’m just worried his head isn’t in the right place” Paul sighs.

“of course, look I’m actually nearby I’ll pop over now and just see if he’s okay, he might just be busy like he said but better safe than sorry,” you tell him letting out a small shaky breath.

“great thank you Y/N, I’ll see you in a few” Paul breathes a deep sigh of relief.

You mumble a goodbye as you pocket your phone and abandon your shopping, you were just about to leave the store when you passed a promotional stand full of jellybeans. Knowing those were Chris’ favourite you grabbed a couple bags, paid for them and made your way out towards the station.

Once you arrived Dodger instantly greeted you, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped slightly to say hello. You bent down to give him some fussing “Where’s your dad hey?” you murmur as you scratch behind his ear.

Dodger lets out a small whimper and whine, nuzzling his snout into your arm.

“Don’t worry Bubba I’ll sort him out” you promise, kissing the top of his head before making your way towards the Captain’s office.

You didn’t bother knocking, just pushed open the door instantly spotting Chris with his elbows resting on the desk, hands running up and down into his hair. His head snapped up when he heard the door open, his hair pointing in all different directions telling you just how many times he’d messed it up. His eyes widened for a split second in what you could only describe as fear before instantly relaxing into a warm gaze.

“babe, hey, what- what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Chris asks standing up from his desk.

“I’m good, was just in the area and thought I’d pop in,” you say smiling up at him warmly as he walked over to press a soft kiss to your lips, as he pulled away you reached up to smooth out and fix his wild hair “are you okay though?”

You feel Chris tense under your touch for a moment before nodding stiffly “Yeah I’m fine” he says his voice strained.

“Chris we both know fine doesn’t mean okay,” you tell him gently, your hand moving to rest on his chest feeling his thundering heart beneath your fingertips.

“I-“ Chris stutters as he looks down, his hand moving to rest over yours, fingers weaving together “I just feel on edge, like my body is preparing to go into fight or flight mode and I’m scared it’ll pick flight” he admits quietly.

“Okay, that’s normal” you reassure him “Look let's sit down and you can tell me everything that’s racing through your mind” you suggest pointing over to the small brown leather couch in the corner.

Chris just nods his hand slipping into yours as he led you over to the couch. He sat down first and before you even had the chance to sit next to him he had pulled you down so you were sat across his lap. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply before letting out a long ragged sigh, pressing a soft kiss to your exposed skin.

Your hand found his that had been resting on your lap, gently picking it up and softly massaging his fingers, rubbing circles around his fingertips. A technique your therapist had taught you to help focus, recentre yourself and relax.

It was clearly working as Chris began to speak without you needing to prompt him “I thought I’d be okay, I thought I’d managed to talk myself into it but just this morning at the briefing, all their eyes on me…” he said quietly, his voice drifting off at the end as he shook his head “I’m used to a couple of them looking at me for leadership when I’m leading a team inside a building, but all of them… it just felt too much and that was just a briefing, how the hell am I gonna cope when I have to keep all of 10 of them safe and the countless civilians” he admits lifting his head enough so you could see his watery eyes.

You let out a quiet sympathetic sigh as you cupped his cheek and gently brushed away the stray tears with your thumb “You can do it because you’re an amazing firefighter, and because they’ll call you out on your bullshit if they need to” you say succeeding in getting a weak chuckle from him.

That small moment of reprieve soon disappeared as his brows furrowed again “But what if I freeze, forget what I’m supposed to do, fuck my head is swimming at the moment I’d probably order water on an electrical fire” he says shaking his head.

“no, you won’t because you know just as well as I do that we’re trained so much that its all second nature, as soon as you’re on-site and you know what you’re dealing with all that training will kick in and you’ll know exactly what to do to the point you won’t even be thinking, you’ll just be acting and saving lives” you reassure him, making sure you met his gaze to drive your point home.

He still didn’t seem convinced though as he let out a shaky “I dunno”

“yes, you do and I’ll prove it,” you tell him firmly making his brows furrow slightly in confusion "What do you do when responding to a bonfire out of control”

“Y/N-“ he starts with a sigh, shaking his head.

“Just tell me, what do you do?” you press, squeezing his hand.

He lets out a small huff but does as he’s told, telling you step by step what needs to happen when responding to that sort of call out. When he was done you then continued to quiz him on all the different types of fire and emergency situations he could possibly face. The more he answered the more confident he got, even talking about different external factors and how they should be managed if they should crop up.

“See?” you say once he was done “You know so much, all you need to do is take a deep breath, calm your mind and think, don’t let panic blind you,” you tell him resting your hand back on his chest his heartbeat much steadier than before “and you know you can do it, you’ve stepped up before, you can do it again and again and again, and maybe for the rest of your career if you really want to”

“let’s not get ahead of ourselves, this is still Jeffords’ job when he gets back” Chris said with a small chuckle.

“of course” you smile knowing deep down that once Chris got himself stuck in he would end up falling in love with it “And since today is such a big day and you’re gonna be super brave, I got you a little treat,” you say reaching into your jacket pocket and pulling out the bags of jellybeans.

Chris lets out a warm unfiltered laugh as you put the jellybeans in his hand, smiling warmly over at you “Thank you sweetheart, I don’t know what I did to deserve you” he smiles leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against yours before softly pressing a kiss to your lips.

For the next half an hour you helped Chris relax and ensure that little voice in his head was well and truly silenced. You watched as the smile on his face got warmer and more relaxed, his shoulders becoming less tense as you rubbed your hand over them. His boisterous laughter echoed through the room as he stuffed his face with the jellybeans you brought him.

He was just about to show you the private sleeping quarters attached to the office when an alarm rang through the station. You felt the hand you held tense, his shoulders minutely hunching at the sound. You turned him to face you, his eyes widening slightly as you reached up and cup his cheek.

“take a deep breath, calm your mind and think, you can do this,” you tell him firmly before reaching up to press a kiss to his lips “Now go be a hero, I’ll be right here when you get back”

Chris blinked a couple of times, the hint of fear disappearing in his eyes “I could be gone for hours” he muttered.

“that’s okay, I’ll wait here with Dodger and then we’ll celebrate your first successful call out as acting Captain” you grin up at him “now go”

A smile tugs at Chris’ lips as he nods, pressing a quick kiss on your lips before rushing out of the office to go join his team.

Two hours later you were playing fetch with Dodger in the area of the station that usually held the trucks. The sound of the ball echoed in the vast empty space as it bounced highlighting just how quiet it was when they were out on duty. A stark contrast to how loud and rambunctious it could be.

You had already banned yourself from looking at the clock. For the first hour, you’d kept looking at it expecting hours to have passed when it was only minutes. Each time you had to take a deep breath and focus on something else, try and not to worry about Chris.

You hadn’t realised just how long callouts could be until you were the one waiting for them to return. The hours would fly by for Chris but for you, they’d drag giving you too much time to think.

As time dragged on you fought that voice in your head that worried and thought in what ifs. What if something had gone wrong, what if the reason they were gone so long was because someone was hurt, what if that someone was Chris?

The two members of Chris’ crew that had stayed back to man the station in their absence tried to distract you and entertain you. You had asked them how they thought Chris was doing as Captain, both of them reassuring you that he was killing it already. But all the talk of Chris just made you miss him more.

You considered calling Lisa or Sally, just to have someone to get all these thoughts and fears off your mind. You knew Lisa would understand exactly how you felt, she’d probably drive straight over to keep you company.

You were just about the ring Sally when you heard the engine pull onto the street. A big sigh of relief escaped your lips as the truck parked up and the crew began to climb out. None of them looked despondent which was a good sign, but you still were holding out to see how Chris looked.

He was the last to climb out of the truck, his eyes scanned the area, a wide smile breaking out when he laid eyes on you. He jogged straight over to you, catching you by surprise when he wrapped his arms around you tightly, picking you up and spinning you around.

You let out a squeal of surprise clinging onto him, the smell of smoke clinging to his jacket, giggling as he continued to spin you around. To the point that when he finally put you down he had to steady you because you were so dizzy.

You didn’t even get the chance to ask him how it went. His large hands cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply. So deeply that you were completely breathless.

“I take it went well then,” you say with a breathy chuckle.

“So good, so so good” Chris grinned “and all because of you”

You smile up at him softly, shaking your head “I didn’t do anything”

“You did everything, you had confidence in me when I had none, it was your voice in my head telling me to breathe and think, you got me through it and showed me I had nothing to be afraid of” Chris’ eyes fixing on yours as he spoke, his thumb gently brushing over your cheekbone.

You felt the lump in your throat grow, to the point you were almost rendered speechless “I’m so proud of you” you croaked, tears welling up in your eyes.

Chris just smiled softly as he leaned down to kiss away the stray tears that fell down your cheeks. He then wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side as he turned to face his crew.

“Right, you guys know what to do, I want all the equipment refreshed and ready for the next call out by the time I’m done with my report” he ordered his eyes scanning over his crew.

“On it Cap” Jamie said giving him a small salute.

“Good dismissed, and nobody bothers me while I do this report,” Chris says as he glances down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes “Gotta get it right so ai need to focus”

His crew nod in response before breaking away to go do their jobs. You expected Chris to say goodbye to you then so he could focus on his report. But he kept his arm around you and led you back to his office.

You were just leaving the Truck area when Chris looked over his shoulder and called out “Hey Paulie, mind giving Dodger a bone for me?” He didn’t even wait for a response, Dodger already dashing off towards Paul.

You just faintly heard Paulie grumble “Reports my ass”

Once you were inside his office, Chris locked the door behind him, peeking out between the blinds before turning to look at you with a hungry look in his eyes.

You knew that look on his face all too well. It was a look that had your toes curling and heat blooming in your core. A look that told you that writing his report was the very last thing on his mind.

You nibbled your lower lip as he closed the distance between the two of you in two large steps. He shrugged off his jacket as he went, allowing you to see his rippling biceps in all their glory, your eyes fixated on them as he threw his jacket onto the small couch.

Your breath hitched when he reached you, his arms snaking around your waist tugging you into his chest. One large hand splayed across your back, the other gently cradling the back of your head. His head dipped as his lips met yours for a deep, commanding kiss, one that left no argument as to who was in charge.

His tongue swiped across the seam of your lips, begging for entrance which you happily obliged. You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers clutching his suspenders as he walked you back towards the desk.

You let out a small squeak of surprise when the back of your legs hit the edge of the desk, Chris quickly and easily picks you up and sets you back down on it. Pushing away the odd piece of paperwork and pencil holder.

Your legs parted and Chris stepped into the space between, a smirk growing on his face as you wrapped your legs around his waist trapping him in. His lips began to travel across your jawline and down your neck, your head rolling back and to the side to give him better access.

Through your hooded eyes, you then spotted something that made you rest your hand on his chest “As much as I’d love to continue this, I don’t think I can do it with Jeffords’s family watching” you admit.

Chris’ head reared back in surprise his brows furrowing in confusion before he followed your gaze and spotted the framed picture of Jeffords and his family on the desk. He let out a snort of laughter his head falling to the crook of your shoulder.

You laughed along with him, fingers running over the nape of his neck and up into his hair. He lifted his head, eyes full of mirth as he leaned back in to press a soft kiss to your lips “How about the private captain’s quarters?” He suggests.

“Can’t think of a better way to celebrate and make your mark” you smirk making Chris laugh, his head thrown back.

He shook his head as he smiled warmly down at you “You are trouble” he murmured against your lips.

“I’m your trouble” you grin back at him.

“That you are” he smirks kissing you once more as he lifted you from the desk, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He carried you through to the attached private quarters that he’d shown you earlier. The bed wasn’t large, only being a small double, built for purpose rather than comfort.

As soon as he settled you down on the bed, you shifted up onto your knees. You ran your hands over his chest before wrapping my fingers around his suspenders and pulling his lips back down onto yours. You heard him let out a small hum as you pushed the suspenders off his shoulders, and began working on the buttons of his shirt.

Once you pushed his shirt off your shoulders you ran your nails down his bare chest to the waistband of his trousers and began to unbutton them. His breath hitched and you could have sworn you heard a small growl escape his lips when you reached inside and wrapped your fingers around his proud erection and freed it from the confines of his trousers.

You gazed up at him through your lashes to see him lick his lower lips as your own neared his tip. His eyes shuttered closed when you licked a long stripe up the underneath of his shaft. As you wrapped your lips around his tip his hand gripped the back of your head, fingers weaving into your hair. There was a small twinge of pain as he gripped your hair but it only encouraged you to take in more of him.

One of your hands moved to his thigh which was rock hard and as tensed, holding himself back. You moved your hand to the back of his thigh, squeezing and encouraging him to let himself go. He let out another growl as he gripped your hair tighter and began to thrust.

You pulled his trousers down more, pulling his boxers down with them so you could cup his balls. A hiss escaped his lips when you did so, a hiss that turned into a long drawn-out moan which made heat pool at your core, your own thighs pressing together to provide some friction.

You could feel him growing close but he just let out a groan as the hand that held the back of your head pulled you off him. You looked up at him to see his chest heaving and a pained expression on his face.

“I-I wanna finish inside you” he panted.

The corners of your lips curled up in a smirk “We’re celebrating your first call out and we both know you don’t need long to recover” you say as you gently lick his swollen tip.

Chris let out another shuddering breath but didn’t protest when you wrapped your lips around him once more. You took it further down your throat, moaning as he completely filled you up. He echoed your moan with his own as he began thrusting with more verbosity, chasing his end.

You cupped his balls once more, which was what finally drove him over the edge. His thrusts became sloppy as he began to unload himself down your throat. You swallowed every drop that you could, pulling off of him and wiping up the cum that escaped your lips with your thumb, Chris groaning in between his pants when he saw you lick your thumb clean.

Chris cupped your cheeks and leaned down to capture your lips with his, his tongue swiping over your lips tasting the remnants of his spend. He kicked his boots off as you push his trousers and boxer all the way off. Once he was completely naked before you, you pulled him down to sit on the bed, moving to straddle his hips.

One of his hands snake down your body from your cheek all the way to the wet patch of arousal on your leggings “fuck” he groaned when he felt it.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you pushed yourself off of him, taking a couple of steps back “Top or bottom first?” you question pointing to your clothes.

Chris’ lips curl upwards as he leans back ready to enjoy the show “Top and no teasing” he smirks.

“don’t ask me to make promises we know I can’t keep” you wink making Chris huff out a laugh.

You keep your eyes on his watching as his gaze turned hungrier as you lifted the lightweight sweater you wore off, revealing that you only wore a tight cotton crop top underneath. Chris began to nibble his lower lip as you then removed the crop top leaving you just in a lacy bra in his favourite shade of blue.

You kicked off the Converse you wore before turning your back on Chris, you heard him let out a small protest that soon died on his lips when you looked over your shoulder at him, your thumbs hooking into the waistband of your leggings. You saw him swallow, his cock twitching as you began to slowly push down your leggings, a groan escaping his lips as you bent over giving him the perfect look of your ass.

Slowly turning back around to face him you began to saunter over to him “Wanna finish the job?” you offer as you come to stand between his thighs.

Chris doesn’t respond, he just wraps his arms around the back of your thighs tugging you even closer. You run your fingers into his hair as he leans forward to press his lips to your abdomen for a wet kiss. He continued to press kisses down your abdomen, nipping at your skin as he went. When he reached the waistband of your matching blue panties he began to pull them down your legs, your breath hitching when he presses a kiss to the apex of your thighs.

He then hooked his hands behind your knees pulling you down to straddle his lap. Your back arched and you let out a breathy gasp when you felt his erection press against your heated core. The arch of your back gave Chris perfect access to your chest. He easily unhooked your bra, giving him full access to your breasts and erect peaks.

Leaning in he pressed a wet kiss to your sternum before moving outsides towards your stiff peaks. You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your sensitive nipple, your hand clutching the back of his neck as he dragged his teeth over it.

You could feel jolts of electricity travelling through your body with every suck and nip at your breasts. You couldn’t resist the urge to roll your hips, Chris’ moan reverberating against your chest as you did so.

You could stay forever in this position, let him worship you and bring you to your peak. But you were here to celebrate him, so you pushed on his shoulder trying not to whine when his lips left your skin.

Chris’ gaze met yours, his pupils blown to the point that there was only a small ring of blue remaining. He arched his brow minutely in a silent question.

“Lie back down” you instruct him.

A smile tugs at his lips as he does as he’s told. Shifting back onto the bed more, closer to the headboard. He kept you straddled across his lap as he moved, his hands remaining on your hip and thigh as he lay back, head resting against the pillow.

You smile lazily down at him as you rest your hands on his abs, feeling them tense beneath your touch. You begin to run your hands up his chest, exploring the wide expanse of muscle, fingers tracing over his tattoos. As you did so you leaned down closer to him until you were close enough that he could lift his head and kiss you softly. His hand moved to cup your jawline, fingers tip’s gently stroking your neck as he angled your head to deepen the kiss.

It almost pained you to pull out of the kiss as you sat up but you soon forgot that as you reached between your bodies and lined him up with your entrance. Your breath hitched when you slowly began to sink down onto him, your eye’s rolling back at the sensation of him filling you up. Chris moaned, fingers clutching your hip and the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

You waited a few moments, just savouring the moment. The only noise being the sound of both your heavy breathing. Gazing down at Chris you admire his chisel chest beneath your, the way his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth hung open as he panted. Your lips twitched upwards as you slowly began to move your hips, moans falling from his lips.

You brace your hands against his chest as you began to pick up the pace. Chris moves both his hands to your hips guiding your movements, his hips thrusting up to meet yours.

When you leaned down you let out a moan as the angle and movement brought friction to your clit. Your moans were swallowed by Chris as he captured your lips with a deep kiss. Your walls clenched around him when his hand cupped your breast, squeezing it.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could continue, that coil inside you twisting impossibly tight, thankfully Chris groaned “Fuck I’m close”

“Me too” you gasp “Let go I’m right behind you”

Chris shook his head “Wanna feel you come on me” he grunted.

You went to argue but it died on your lips as his hand sneaked between your body and found your clit. All touch from his callused fingers have you coming undone in an instead. Your walls pulsed around him, milking him dry when he found his second peak shortly after you.

Once your muscles began to relax you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, before collapsing down onto him. Chris let out a small chuckle as moved the duvet to cover to both of you and wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling his face into your hair and taking a deep breath.

You could very easily fall asleep listening to Chris’ steady heartbeat, but even though your body has been fully sated, your mind was still running. Even though you had done nothing but wait around, being back in this environment felt exhilarating, it made you miss work for the first time in a while.

Lifting your head so you could look at Chris, you studied him silently for a few moments. He seemed like a completely different man, all the weight was off his shoulders and he just looked so free. You felt a wave of envy, you wanted that feeling.

“What are you thinking?” He hummed, his fingers lazily running up and down the column of your spine.

“That I’m so goddamn proud of you for facing all your demons,” you say making a bashful smile grow on his face “and it got me thinking that I want to go back to work”

His smile faulted for a second, his brows creasing in concern as he shifted beneath you “Are you sure?”

You nodded “Yeah, not straight away, there’s things I need to do first but I want to start that process” you admit your gaze dipping for a second before meeting his once more.

“And what are the things you need to do?” he breathed out, his heart beating heavily in his chest beneath you.

“I don’t know exactly, I’d have to talk to Sally to work it all out, but I need some sense of closure with my father, I can’t go back to work without it, whether it be we manage to work things out, come to some kind of arrangement or truce or…” you say taking a deep breath “or I cut ties completely”

Out of those three options you weren’t sure which of them you wanted. Your father had completely betrayed your trust, showing his true colours. He had been the root cause of so much of your trauma, there was no way things could just go back to normal.

But the idea of cutting all ties with him. Losing the last remaining family member you had, it caused a painful pang in your chest. Just the thought of it made you feel incredibly lonely. If your grandparents were still around maybe it would feel different, you would still have someone.

Realistically though, you couldn’t see how you could reach a truce. Even if your father apologised and swore to never do anything like this again, you wouldn’t be able to trust him, not completely. You’d be looking over your shoulder and just waiting. Just the thought of it all was enough to make your head hurt.

You feel Chris take a deep breath, his eyes scanning your face. You could see him trying to process and work out what he was going to say. He finally let out a deep sigh, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be right there beside you, supporting you all the way” he promises.

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prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

bloodline. | james potter

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play bloodline by ariana grande

pairing: james potter x reader (fake dating au)

summary: after lily breaks up with james, you offer to pretend to be lily over the christmas holidays

word count: 10k (i deeply apologise)

warnings: language, mentions of food and eating, sexual jokes and innuendos (nothing explicit or smut), a whole lotta angst but a whole lotta fluff

a/n: a can't believe i wrote so much for this man. anyway, this is probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written to enjoy - Kennedy

***

The common room was a ghostly quiet, but that was expected at this time of year. Tinsel decorated the mantelpiece by the fireplace, the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon wafting through the air. In the corner, a large, oak tree sat, it’s leaves standing tall and proud, juxtaposing against the scarlet walls. Christmas was the reason for this tranquil atmosphere.

Except, that wasn’t the case for everyone. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be going home for the holidays this year, opting to stay at Hogwarts to get in more study time. It felt like nearly all students were going away this year and the ever growing loneliness was catching up to you, weighing your mind down, a foggy haze resting over your eyesight.

You turned your head, looking up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly one in the morning, which meant that there were usually more students in the common room. The train was leaving back to London tomorrow - well, today - so you assumed that they would all be getting some rest. The only sound that filled the common room was the fire crackling and some light whimpering.

Light whimpering?

That definitely caught your attention. Straightening yourself up on the chair, your eyes scanned the dim room, searching for the source of the noise. It was quiet, but prominent, and it definitely sounded like someone crying. The sniffling painted a picture in your mind of someone’s broken face, eyes red and puffy.

There was something wrong though. Your intuition was getting the better of you. You recognised that voice, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Sure, you had friends, but you weren’t close to anyone, close enough to know what they sounded like when you cried.

By now, the crying was loud enough to attract the attention of anyone that would pass by. Your book, laid forgotten on your lap, was brushed aside, as you sat up, ready to find the source of the crying. There weren’t many places to hide in the common room, so it struck you as odd that you couldn’t see anyone.

Following the whines, you crept to the corner of the room, where the cries never stopped and seemingly carried on through the wall. A smile stretched across your face, a mystery forming in your head. Pressing your palms against the wall, your tenacious fingers searched the wallpaper for anything, small incisions, lumps, maybe a door handle. In the lack of light, you didn’t notice the small hole in the wall, letting your finger slip through the wallpaper. Curling around your knuckle, you tugged slightly, opening the secret door you had just found in the wall.

Letting the light slip into the tunnel, you noticed the figure curled up in a ball. His suave messy hair, paired with the thin, round glasses on the ground gave away that it was James Potter who was crying in a secret tunnel at one in the morning.

Your heart broke in an instant. James was actually a very close friend, having helped him and his marauders out multiple times on their pranks and overall mischief. You had met James in the first year and you were the bestest friend he had outside the marauders; he had told you multiple times. Many times you had laid together in the common room, shoulders touching, staring up at the ceiling, enjoying each other’s presence. It was comforting. He was comforting.

But right now, he needed comfort.

A lone piece of parchment was peeking out of his arms, which you carefully plucked away, not focusing on the ink scratched in. Soothing his shaking muscles, you ran your hands up his arms, him immediately calming down at your touch. When you felt like he was feeling better, you reached down, sitting against the wall next to him, placing your arm around his quivering figure. Your fingers found his lonely glasses on the ground, bringing them up to his face, trying to coax his hands away from his reddening cheeks.

The moment you met his eyes, you could feel his pain. His normally bright, cheerful eyes were filled with salty tears, staining his freckle-covered cheek in a sheen of sadness. It was the envisionment of pure anguish.

“Jamesie,” you started, voice quiet as to not shock the obviously patronised boy, quivering next to you, “can you tell me what’s wrong? I want to help you, love.”

“It’s-” He sniffed, voice croaky, “Lily. It’s Lily.” He struggled to keep his gaze on your face, opting to look at his fiddling fingers in this lap. “She broke up with me. A few hours ago.”

Your heart failed. Lily broke up with James? But they were perfect together. For the past two years, it was always James and Lily, Lily and James, high school sweethearts. They were so happy, so why would she end it?

The sadness creeping up inside of you soon turned to wrath, a fire burning wildly in your chest. Red clouded your vision as you felt your fist curl up in anger, fingernails digging into your skin. You only stopped when you felt James’ hand resting on yours.

“Why?” You asked. It was a dumb question, but it was the only thing that came to mind, wanting to keep the attention off of your growing asperity.

“Dunno,” James shrugged, turning back towards his corner. “She said that she wanted to take a break. Had no idea why though. Thought everything was going swimmingly.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, a nice contrast to his tearful expression.

“What a bitch, right before Christmas.” The words fell out of your mouth without you registering it, your eyes scanning the room as you chew thoughtfully on your bottom lip. You didn’t know how James' face grimaced at the mention of Christmas, a pink tint growing on his face, but not from the tears.

Turning around, you saw James with his head in his hands, an excreted groan vibrating from his vocal chords. “Fuck!” He swore, “She was supposed to be coming to meet my parents this Christmas. Now, I have to owl Mum to tell her that’s she’s not coming, oh no-”

He paused, rubbing his eyes together. “This is going to ruin Christmas. Mum and Dad are going to be fretting over me all Christmas. I wish she could’ve just waited until after the holidays.”

It really did seem like James was in a predicament. You had never met Euphemia or Fleamont Potter, but you did know that they were described to be some of the most lovely people to be blessed on this Earth. Even through your tight friendship, you hadn’t met them yet.

Then, another problem rushed through your mind. Lily was now going to be staying at Hogwarts during the holidays, and your blood was boiling. It was going to be difficult to stay in the same room as her without lashing out in defence of James.

“I don’t want to have to deal with Lily for a whole week.” You muttered under your breath, unaware that James was hanging onto every word you said.

“You’re not going away over the holidays?” James asked, eyebrows furrowed together as he scanned your face for any insight. Sighing, you shook your head in response.

“Nah, normally stay.” You pondered for a moment. “Do you think that Lily is gonna be unbearable over Christmas? I might as well just stay in the Room of Requirement all Christmas.”

Then, a thought came to your head. It was almost genius, a bright light twinkling in your eye, your mouth slightly agape. You sucked in a small breath, watching as James eyed you curiously, before a slim smile stretched across your face.

“I have an idea James, but please, I want you to stop me at any point if you feel uncomfortable with this. You are grieving in a way and I don’t want to undermine that. Promise me you’ll shut me down if you don’t like it, okay?” You noted that his head nodded up and down, letting you continue.

“What if I pretend to be Lily? Your parents have never met her before, right? Or me, for a matter of fact. I can come to yours for the holidays and pretend to be Lily to keep the Christmas cheer. When the week is up, we can stop fake dating and you can send a letter to your parents a few weeks later saying that Lily broke up with you. Christmas saved, no pestering parents, and I don’t have to spend a week with the insufferable Lily.”

There was a silence that followed, James gawking at the ground as his mind churned over what you had just said. Then, he spoke.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“If that’s okay with you. I mean, it’s just fake dating, right? For like a week? Are you okay with that?”

You exhaled a deep sigh of release, followed by a hearty chuckle. “Of course I’m okay with it. I suggested it, remember? And besides, we’re friends. Best friends, if anything. Everything will be fine.”

“What about Sirius and Remus? They’re staying over the holidays too. Are you sure they can keep the secret? That, you know, you’re not actually Lily Evans. You’re Y/N L/N.”

“Yeah, I think they can.”

***

“We can’t keep that secret.”

You and James and just explained what the plan was. It was the morning of December 21st, a fresh layer of snow had just been laid on the ground. Wrapped carefully in many layers, students of Hogwarts had bundled up into the crimson train, ready to go back to London for a week.

After explaining to Professor McGonagall that last minute plans meant you could go away in the holidays, she had let you onto the train, where the four of you sat in a carriage, laying out the details of you and James’ awkward plan to fake date for the Christmas holidays.

Sirius had found the whole prospect of the situation immensely funny and had been laughing ever since you told him. Remus - the more serious one of the two, ironically - wasn’t too keen on the idea, a look of disappointment plastered on his face like an angry parent.

“You can’t just lie to Euphemia and Fleamont. They’re your parents, James. Surely they’ll know you’re lying?”

“That’s the brilliant thing!” James had surely brightened up overnight. After talking for a bit, you helped James into bed, hoping that a good night sleep would change his mood slightly. Unexpectedly, his mood changed more than slightly; almost drastically. He was cheerful, his teeth glowing in the daybreak sun, enthusiastic talks from across the common room. It was a rather stark constraint from the glum Lily Evans who was moping around, as if she was the one who got dumped only the night before. “They’ll never know! They haven’t met Lily, nor Y/N! Sure, they’ve heard about both, but they won’t connect the dots.”

Anxiously, Remus looked at Sirius for guidance, except Sirius hadn’t stopped laughing, glistening tears of joy beading at his waterline, a hand clamped over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his tomfoolery, focusing your attention on the still uncertain lycanthrope.

“Remus, please?” You begged, pouting your lips. “It’s just one week. Please just lie for one week.”

It seemed as if his brain was clicking into place because after a moment, a smile replaced with frown, with him sticking his hand out. Eagerly shaking it in agreement, your mood lightened significantly.

The rest of the train ride, you went over everything that you needed to know about James and Lily’s relationship, if it came up. Firstly, they got together in February of year five, 1976. You fake barfed at the fact that their relationship sprouted from Valentine’s day, an opinion that the others giggled at. Secondly, James had told his parents that Lily was a muggleborn, so you would probably get bombarded with questions about muggles. You didn’t mind though; you were muggleborn yourself.

Next, you had to make some rules to keep boundaries between James and yourself. First, let James answer questions about the relationship, while you have to make notes and remember. Second, only refer to you as Lily in communal spaces, as Euphemia or Fleamont could appear at any moment. Three, physical affection is fine, almost encouraged, but no kissing on the lips.

As everything was settled, the train pulled into King’s Cross Station, the horn blasting through, grabbing the attention of the energetic students, ready to stretch their legs. Nervously, you kept still in your seat, an anxious stomach ache coming on. You felt sweat beading at your forehead as you finally realised how nervous you actually were.

James took note of this though, grabbing your hand and rubbing the back of it soothingly, calming your tense nerves. It seemed impossible, this task at hand looming over you, but you had to keep calm. You knew you could; in all honesty, you didn’t know why you were feeling so worried all of a sudden. Giving in, you took James’ hand and followed the three boys out onto the platform.

You followed the gaze of the three of them before your eyes landed on an older looking couple. A lady was standing there, dark brown hair pulled tightly into a ponytail, streaks of grey peaking through. Harsh smile lines protruded through her skin, a warm and inviting look on her face. Next to her, a taller looking man stood proudly next to what you assumed to be his wife. His feathery hair was combed back and the same round glasses as James sat comfortably on his peaky nose. You could only assume that this was Euphemia and Fleamont Potter.

Walking over, you stayed quiet as James greeted his parents first, pulling them into a tight hug. Immediately, you noticed how much of a mummy’s boy James was when you saw him unconsciously seeking comfort from his mother. It hurt to see him not being able to get what he needed in the moment. You looked away, afraid that you might’ve started to cry if you continued looking for any longer.

Fleamont greeted Remus and Sirius like they were his own sons, engulfing them in a hearty hug, lovingly slapping them on their backs. You watched as the affection oozed from James’ parents, a warm feeling growing in your chest. It was admiration.

Then, you felt a tug on your sleeve, looking back to see James’ trying to grab your attention. Giving him an inquisitive look, you noticed Euphemia, arms open, a beaming smile on her face.

“You must be Lily. Come in, dear.” It felt wrong as you dove into her arms, letting her motherly love wash over you like a tidal wave. Pulling apart, you felt the guilt twang in your chest, the name of Lily echoing in your mind.

That wasn’t you.

But you continued to smile. You smiled through your greetings with Fleamont. You smiled through the light banter they shared with James’ friends. You smiled through the small talk. You smiled through aparating to the Potter’s house.

As you stepped through the front door, you were greeted with an adorning archway, the walls endlessly covered with family photos. Everything about the house was inviting. A lingering smell of fresh baking settled in the house, as the light from the window perfectly captured the chandelier, a thousand rainbows dancing around the room.

As you stepped into the entrance way, you watched as Euphemia gestured the four of you up the staircase, down a hallway littered with doors. She stopped at a room, a sign with ‘Sirius’ on it, labelling you it belonged to. You beamed, remembering how this was now Sirius’ new home.

“I hope you don’t mind Remus bunking with you Sirius. I pulled out a spare mattress.” Euphemia addressed the two boys, who eagerly piled into the bedroom, grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“You too, this way.” You looked over to James, but his face was contorted into something unreadable, only smiling when he noticed your staring, giving a reassuring squeeze of your hand. You brushed it off though, your mind blurred by the thought of following Euphemia.

“Here’s James’ room,” Euphemia stopped in front of a door that was decorated by a Gryffindor flag. “Make yourself at home, sweetheart. I hope you’re still okay with sharing the bed? James said that was fine in our last letter.”

You inhaled tightly through your nose, clenching your jaw. You looked back at James, whose face was once again turning a bright red, his lips slightly parted as stutters started to spill out. “Well- I- actually-”

“Sounds great, Euphemia. Thank you so much for your hospitality.” Impatient to leave the awkward situation, you gestured to James to enter his bedroom, trailing in behind you, keeping a faux smile on your face, up until the door closed behind you.

In an instant, apology after apology spluttered from James, trying to explain. You were vaguely listening, although you were more focused on the room around you. You liked the detail and the Gryffindor pride. Moving posters of different Quidditch players lined the walls, covering the red and white wallpaper. In a corner, a pile of muggle vinyls were stacked together, tied together by a pink ribbon, which you could only assume was gifted by Lily. The room was surprisingly tidy, different to the state of James’ dorms back in Hogwarts.

“I like your room.” You finally spoke, dragging a finger across a chest of drawers. A thin layer of dust rested on the pad of your finger, which you rubbed off on your skirt before turning back to the panicked boy before you.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Don’t worry about it, James.” You comforted him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You forgot; that’s okay! I honestly don’t mind. It’s sort of what I signed up for anyway.” You laughed, hoping James would join in. He did.

***

Dinner went alright. You stayed quiet most of the time, only speaking when spoken to. You didn’t think Euphemia or Fleamont noticed, but you did get a peculiar look from Sirius, seemingly smirking at the way James and your seats were placed so close together.

After excusing yourself from the dinner table, you helped out in the kitchen with Fleamont, drying the dishes and putting them away in the cupboards. You were lost in your own thoughts, drifting off, keeping a smooth rhythm as you stacked plates.

“Lily, can you pass me the soap dispenser please?” You almost didn’t register what he was saying, a muted hum escaping your lips, until you realised you were being addressed. After apologising profusely for your tardiness, you handled the soap bottle to Mr Potter and carried on, hoping he wouldn’t start a conversation.

He did anyway.

“How’s James been treating you?” Fleamont quipped, a sly grin on his face. You knew what he was implying and shook it off, trying to keep the conversation as ambiguous as possible.

“Good. He’s been good.” He didn’t seem to buy it. “Lovely as always.” You gulped discreetly, disguising your nervousness as a yawn, which wasn’t missed by Fleamont.

“My dear, you look tired. You better retire for the night.” Nodding and saying your goodnights, you trod up the stairs, into the bedroom, where you were met by James, where only pajama shorts, reading Quidditch Through The Ages on his bed. You smiled, knowing that it was one of his favourites. He looked up when he saw you enter, smiling sheepishly, pointing towards the ensuite door.

“You can get changed in there, love.” Humming in agreement, you took a spare change of clothes into the bathroom and quickly returned, having brushed your teeth and washed your face as well. It wasn’t that late, but you felt inordinately tired, feeling as though you could pass out.

Collapsing on the soft bed, you pulled the duvet covers over your torso, letting your head hit the soft pillow. You nearly missed James whispering a small “goodnight darling” before falling into a dreamless sleep.

***

Tuesday 22nd December

Day two of whatever this was supposed to be had begun. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows, not uncommon as James had always been an early bird and must’ve opened them himself. He wasn’t in bed when you rolled over, but you did notice the harsh sound of running water and an overwhelming smell of apple shampoo seeping into the bedroom.

Getting into some fresh clothes, you heard the water stop, buttoning up the last button on your blouse as James waltzed back into the bedroom, before seeing you. He stood like a deer in the headlights, water running smoothly down this toned skin, wearing only a towel around his hips.

“Why is it that I always catch you shirtless?” You tried to end the awkwardness by making a joke, reaching into James’ drawers and pulling out the first shirt you saw, throwing it across the room.

Because of James’ Quidditch skills, his fast reflexes caught the soaring shirt, catching it in one hand, unintentionally flexing his biceps. You shouldn’t have been staring, but the situation was too hard to read.

After standing still for a moment, you regained intelligence, snapping yourself out of your gaze. Muttering a quick apology, you dashed out of his bedroom, closing the door behind you. Pressing your back to the newly closed door, you shut your eyes tight, trying to forget the fresh memory in your mind.

“Trouble in paradise?” You opened one of your eyes to see Remus standing there too, novel in hand, also having his back pressed against the closed door.

“Shirtless.” The only words that could fall out of your mouth, making Remus bark with laughter, before clamping his hand over his mouth, an inch of sympathy showing in his eyes.

“Can’t be that bad of a sight, can it?” He joked, egging you on. You clutched your hands up to your face, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, but the worse past was that there was still so much more to come.

“Shut up Lupin.” You stuck your tongue out playfully at Remus, before bolting down the hallway, hoping to help Euphemia out with breakfast, like you said you would last night at the dinner table.

You were efficient in the kitchen, once again keeping talk to a minimum. Except today, you were feeling more comfortable with Euphemia, a more natural conversation gracing your time. It felt easier to speak. Maybe it was the fact that you had just had a good sleep, or maybe it was that you were actually feeling somewhat at home at the Potter’s residence.

Just as the bacon seemed to be completely cooked, James bursted through the door, Sirius and Remus in tow. James seemed to be the only one nervous, as the other two boys sat down at the table gleefully. Dishing up the breakfast, you handed the plates out to everyone.

Lastly, you handed a plate to James, trying your hardest to not make eye contact. You only stiffened when you felt James’s soft fingers accidentally brush against yours, tensing your muscles immediately.

“There you go,” you spoke in a voice so everyone could hear, “sweetheart.” You hissed the last word out in gritted teeth. Instead of sitting next to James like last night, you opted to sit directly in front of him, something that didn’t go unnoticed by James himself, who gave you a curious look at your choice in seating arrangements.

But before he could talk with you about it, you had finished your breakfast, immediately bouncing back into the kitchen, avoiding all signs of the messy haired brunette who was lurking around the ground floor.

The rest of the day followed a similar pattern. Mundane tasks, followed by awkward conversation, and running away. It wasn’t what you had thought when you offered the idea to fake date, but you realised how hard it actually was to pretend to be madly in love with someone.

It wasn’t until later in the night, when you were getting ready for bed, that you overheard James talking with Remus and Sirius. You knew you shouldn’t, but after hearing him say your name, you were too curious not to eavesdrop in. Pressing your ear against Sirius’ door, you prayed that Euphemia or Fleamont wouldn’t walk past any moment now.

“How’s it going with the whole fake dating thing?” It was Sirius’ voice, and there was a cheek to his voice. You rolled your eyes at his blatant teasing.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” It was James speaking this time. “Everything was going so well, especially yesterday, but after today, I’m a bit worried that my parents won’t believe.”

“What do you mean?” Remus’ voice held a question, an obvious inflection at the end of the sentence.

“I just wish she was a little more, you know,” a pause, “tactile. At least, a little more affection. She’s not playing the part well.”

You should’ve been hurt by James’ words but instead, you felt immense anger, and for what? You didn’t understand why you felt so annoyed by James’ harmless comment, but you did.

Begrudgingly, you languidly stomped back to James’ room, burying yourself under the covers, pretending to be asleep. You didn’t want to talk to him at the moment, in fear that you would just snap at him for the comments that he was making behind your back.

When James came back in about half an hour later, you felt a feeling of pressure being lifted from your chest, breathing easily as James tucked himself on the other side of you. You didn’t know why, but you felt like it was so much easier to sleep now that you knew that James was beside you. And so you did.

***

Wednesday 23rd December

It was an accident. You didn’t mean to wake up at the piss crack on dawn, wrapped in James’ arms. Sometime during the night, your sleeping form must’ve found its way to James. Your head was tucked in the crook of his neck, the soothing sound of his heartbeat rippling out. You felt safe.

Until you remembered that you were supposed to be mad at James. Carefully so you didn’t wake him, you slipped out of his arms, letting yours legs fall off the edge of the bed. Your warm toes made contact with cold hard wooden floors, making you jolt up in surprise. Looking back, you saw that James was still asleep, so you sighed, peeling out of the bedroom.

It was winter, so it wasn’t even that early in the morning. The grandfather clock in the living room was showing that it was just about to be seven, and that was good enough for you. Taking initiative, you decided to start cooking breakfast yourself, remembering the open invitation Euphemia gave you to use the kitchen whenever you want.

Cozying up to the stove, you placed the palms of your hands just over the radiating heat of the stove top, reveling in the delicious warmth that was defrosting every muscle in your body. Your mind was working overtime, trying to remember what James’ favourite breakfast was.

If James wanted an affectionate girlfriend, then he was going to get himself an affectionate girlfriend.

Mixing together a sweet pancake batter, you welcomed Euphemia into the kitchen. Praises filled the room, as you poured the dough into the pan, letting the bubbles rise to the top. In the meantime, you took out the bowl of fresh strawberries in the fridge, letting them come to room temperature on the kitchen counter tops.

Once again, James entered the kitchen right as you were serving up. Making sure it was as noticeable as possible, you sent a massive wink his way, catching him off guard. Grabbing a chopping board from the cupboard, you started slicing the tops off of the strawberries, to which James stopped you.

“Let me help darling.” He spoke, his morning voice making you feel something in your stomach that you weren’t expecting. Butterflies? Surely not. You shook the thought away, focusing back on flipping the pancakes on the stove tops.

After serving another freshly cooked pancake, your attention was pulled to James, a dopey smile on his face, strawberry juice staining his lips. “Y/- Lily, come over here.”

A bitter feeling rose in your chest at hearing Lily’s name, but you pushed it away, walking over to James’ workstation. He had a strawberry in his hand, beckoning you over to taste it. An idea sprouted in your head as you sashayed over, swinging your hips slightly.

You did what James wanted you to do, bending over slightly to place your lips around the sweet berry, letting your loving ‘boyfriend’ feed you. What he didn’t expect was after you had eaten the strawberry, you latched into his hands, wrapping your mouth around his fingers and gently sucking off the rest of the strawberry juice. It had caught him off guard but that’s what you wanted.

Today he was going to get all the affection you could give him.

At the breakfast table, you sat beside him, resting your hand on his thigh as you ate, leaning into him as you laughed at a joke Sirius had made. It wasn’t that funny but you wanted to prove a point. You wanted to prove that you could play the part of the doting girlfriend.

Soon, after breakfast, the Potter’s decided to go for a walk, so everyone joined in. Wrapping each other up in as much warm clothing as possible, everyone bundled outside together, minding the brisk breeze that was blowing through.

Holding James’ hand, you strolled calmly together, leaning your cheek against his arm and shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind, but he didn’t keep sending you strange looks as you continuously clutched his arm, running your fingers up and down his skin. You couldn’t tell if the goosebumps were from hesitation or the cold.

It started snowing quite heavily so they decided to head back inside. James and Remus had been caught up in conversation for most of the walk, about who was better at wizard’s chess and had agreed to a competition to decide for once and for all.

Curled up on the couch, you sat beside James, one and curled around a mug of cocoa and the other places upon James’ thigh. He let you, nodding when you hesitated on placing your hand there the first time.

About an hour into their little competition, you felt a haze settle upon your eyes, rendering you tired. It was late afternoon though, not a good enough time to go to bed. Yawning, you placed your mug down on the coffee table, and stretched out over the couch, placing your head down on James’ lap. Subconsciously, his left hand followed the movements of your head, latching onto a piece of your hair and twirling around his finger.

You never slept, but you rested your eyes. You didn’t know for how long until you felt the familiar sound of Euphemia’s dream-like voice, calling you to dinner. Hurriedly, you placed a mushy kiss against James’ cheek and sat in the usual spot at the dinner table.

By now, conversation flowed more easily than it did the day before. You were now beginning to feel safe in the Potter environment, opening up to everyone more, letting yourself join the conversation.

When you were going off the bed, you placed one last public kiss on James’ cheek before lacing your hands together, pulling him up to the bedroom and winking at Sirius and Remus, knowing full well what it was suggesting.

Once you got behind the doors though, you were off him in an instant, searching through your bag for a spare change of clothes for the night. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, getting ready for bed in your own separate bubbles. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to speak to James, it was more that you didn’t know what to say to him after today. You were afraid that you had crossed a line.

“What was that today?” James finally broke the silence, a crack in his voice as you spoke. You spin around, a fake smile creeping onto your face.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” His voice was cool, sending shivers down your spine. Your smile dropped, replaced with a frown. You could almost feel a few tears edging at your waterline, threatening to spill over if you weren’t careful.

“I’m sorry.” You started, fiddling with your fingers. “It was just- I overheard what you said last night. You said you wish I was being more, uhm, tactile.” You felt embarrassed to say the word. “I just wanted to put in a bit more effort. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

James stayed quiet as he settled into bed. You followed suit, getting it just behind him. You faced away from him though, as your cheeks were now being stained by your tears.

“Y/N?” You heard James call from behind you, but you didn’t turn around.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was just strange seeing so much affection from someone who wasn’t Lily.” He paused. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight Jamesie.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

***

Thursday 24th December

Once again, you woke up in James’ arms. Once again, you weren’t sure how you got there, but you weren’t complaining either way. Once again, you moved out of his arms before he noticed.

A new occurrence this morning though was he woke up by your movement.

“Oh, good morning love.”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, although you didn’t know why. You kept your eyes closed, as they were still heavy from last night’s sleep. Unfortunately, it was plagued by fluffy dreams, all lead by a familiar bespectacled boy. You shook the thought from your mind, trying to open your eyes, but you couldn’t. You could barely mutter out a greeting.

“Hmm.” You grunted in acknowledgment, burying you head in the pillow. It smelt like James. A smile crept on your face without you realising.

“Tired?”

“Hmm.” You let out another whine, this one more pitiful, as you nuzzled you head against James’ arm, wanting to feel his warmth once again. Chuckling, he wrapped an arm around you before placing a calculated kiss on top of your head.

“Stay here darling.” You didn’t have to be told twice. As James left the bed, you stayed put, falling down where James was previously sleeping, laying horizontally along James’ bed as you fell back into your slumber.

You didn’t know how long you were out for, but you didn’t wake up to the sound of the creaking door opening and the clinking off ice against a glass of water. You tentatively opened one eye, letting in as much light as you would allow, adjusting to the new found sunlight. Slowly, you opened the next eye, so you could properly see what James was doing.

In his hands, he carried a breakfast tray, adorned with fresh ciabatta bread, yogurt, and a bowl of strawberries. The clinking sound before was coming from a glass of icy cold water, sitting next to a vase of peonies. Your favourite flower. You flushed at the fact that James had remembered something so miniscule.

“Breakfast in bed for the princess.” James joked, letting you sit up filling before placing the tray on your lap.

“What does that make you then? A prince?” You continued the joke, folding back a bit of the duvet to let James hop back into the bed too. There was double of everything on the tray, so you assumed one helping was for James.

You gave him a plate of breakfast as you slowly miches on yours, your mind too preoccupied to think about breakfast. All you could think about was why you were feeling so nervous around James. Why was your heart racing? Why were your cheeks flushing? Why were your hands clamming up?

“Open wide.” You whipped you head around to see James with a goofy grin on his face, holding a strawberry in his hand. Remembering what happened yesterday, you took a bite of the berry, purposely not continuing how you did yesterday and licking his fingers.

A disappointed pout returned to his face. “No finger sucking? Aww what’s wrong?”

“Did you want me to suck your fingers, Prince James?” You poked him playfully on his side. “It would be highly inappropriate. We aren’t even married yet. What a scandal.” You spoke in an over the top British accent, mimicking stereotypical royal figures.

“Oh, don’t worry Princess Y/N, I wouldn’t mind have you in my bloodline.”

“Hm, Princess Y/N of the Potter residence.” You jokingly thought for a moment. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

As you giggled together, you heard a knock at the door, followed by a “I’m coming in.” The doorknob turned and Euphemia emerged from behind the door. “How is my happy couple going?”

You kept the smile on your face, not letting it falter and break character. A little voice in the back of my mind was angry, upset that Euphemia had interrupted the moment, but ultimately you thought that maybe it was for the best. You needed to keep the flirting for the public eyes only.

“Hey Mum.” James cheered. You looked back to him and noticed the same smile on his face, like it hadn’t fallen. Like, he hadn’t even noticed that Euphemia had called us a couple.

“It snowed again last night so we’re snowed in for the day. Do you two have any plans?” She asked, her eyes flickering from between us.

“I have a lot of homework to do so I might do that today.” You spoke quietly, a little embarrassed that you wanted to do homework. You didn’t actually want to do homework, but you felt like you need to be occupied by something, to control an inner urge that was bubbling inside of you.

“Come on!” James whined, letting his head fall down on your shoulder. You got immediately warm from his touch. “It’s the holidays! You can’t seriously be doing homework?”

“I have stuff to catch up on.”

“Like what?”

“Like, um, stuff.”

“Would you kids like to do some baking for Christmas tomorrow?” Euphemia suggested, to which James lit up like a Christmas tree, completely infatuated by the idea.

“Yes, yes, yes.” James repeated, rushing out of bed, but carefully enough to not spill the tray everywhere. You followed suit, pulling on a dressing gown and entering the kitchen with an enthusiastic James.

That’s how the rest of the day went. You and James stayed in the kitchen all day, still wearing your sleeping pajamas, fooling around and baking.

You started with making Christmas cake, but soon found out that James was rather good at baking himself. He took the reigns, busily working as you helped out, doing the chopping and measuring for him.

At one point, James’ eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration for over two minutes. You were getting restless, the perfection needed for baking boring you, so you decided to have some fun. Pinching your finger together, you gathered up a handful of flour, flinging it at an unsuspecting James. He turned around slowly, his cheek covered in white powder, before an evil grin consumed his face.

“Oh, you’re on, L/N.”

That’s how most of the baking went with James that day. Joking around, flinging ingredients at each other. By the end of it, you could hardly tell the difference between the kitchen floor and your aprons.

At the end, you had made Christmas cake, gingerbread cookies, and a loaf of bread. Happy with your haul, you went into the living room to call the rest of the members of the household to inspect the food.

“Come see what we made.” You and James called, standing underneath the archway from the kitchen and the living room. As you were about to step away, you heard a halting sound.

“Uh uh, wait up.” You turned back around to see Fleamont with a cheeky smile on his face, pointing at the two of you. You didn’t know what he was pointing at but Euphemia, Sirius, and Remus did, following Fleamont’s arm and laughing when they saw it.

Gazing upwards, you looked to see what the big fuss was about. Your face fell in an instant. Hanging above you and James was a freshly picked mistletoe plant.

You grimaced at the thought, feeling guilty. It was one of the rules you had set. No kissing on the lips. Surely Remus and Sirius knew that, but they were too busy laughing their asses off to remember.

Looking back at James, you gulped. You stared up at his cerulean blue eyes, your hand shaking beside you slightly. James’ eyes were raking your face, searching for any sign of consent. You nodded soon after realising what he was doing and you let him cup your face, bringing you closer than you’ve ever been.

“Are you okay with this?” James whispered for only you to hear. You kept leaning forward until you were only millimetres away from touching when you breathed out your last word of consent: “yes.”

Your lips met in the middle. It was soft and sweet, not wanting to push what was already fragile. James’ left hand stayed cupping your cheek, holding you face still as his right hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. It was magical, as if all your happiness you had ever felt was wrapped together and given to you right there. You had your hands resting on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat underneath you like a song from the heavens.

When you pulled away, your eyes lingered a little longer in James’, the eye contact you were holding inescapable and passionate. Your head felt heavy, your eyelids weighing you down as a wave of exhaustion hit you like a freight train. Discreetly, you yawn behind you hand, a gesture that wasn’t missed by James, who reached out for your wrist, running his thumb up and down your hand.

“Let’s go get you some sleep, hm?” An affirming sound escaped your mouth as you trailed behind James. Back in his bedroom, you collapsed on the bed, your lips still tingling from the sensual kiss just moments before.

The two of you were silent as you got ready for bed. Working harmoniously beside each other, you changed, and did your repetitive nightly routine, just to end up in the same place as always; on opposite sides of the bed, unable to make conversation. Luckily for you, James was onto it.

“I’m so sorry,” he started, but when you tried to butt in, he cut you off, continuing his rant. “I knew that was one of the rules and I broke it. I should’ve just said no and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. You didn’t deserve to have your boundaries crossed. I’m sorry for pressuring you into something you weren’t ready for.”

You stayed silent for a moment, soaking in his words before you began yourself. “James, I didn’t mind. You didn’t take advantage of me. It’s completely okay. And what’s that famous saying, rules are meant to be broken.”

Your pathetic attempt to joke was shut down as James didn’t say anything, nor move, just staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Huffing, you rolled over, trying to let slumber take you away, but you couldn’t. There was a chill in the house tonight, another snow storm heading your way. You shuddered as a draft blew through.

“You’re cold.” James finally spoke, yet it was an obvious statement, as you were still shaking under a blanket, your teeth starting to chatter.

“Come here.” You turned around, seeming as if you had misheard him, but you saw what you were afraid of. James’ arms were wide open, beckoning you to fall asleep with him wrapped around you, keeping you safe.

So you did.

***

Friday 25th December

Christmas morning was perfect. As you fluttered open your eyes, you once again found yourself situated in James’ arms, the only difference was that he was awake too, his radiant smile beaming down on you, making you feel warm and cuddly on the inside.

Breakfast was simple, as everyone was mostly preparing for Christmas lunch. You tried to help out as much as possible but Euphemia always shut you down, insisting that you had helped out enough and that you needed a break. So, you sat patiently on the couch, munching slowly on an apple, the juice running smoothly down your face.

“Good morning Lily.” James had appeared beside you, placing a soft kiss on your temple. The words falling from his mouth were more acidic than the juice dripping from your chin. Your returning smile was filled with bitterness, something James picked up on, his nose scrunching up as he surveyed your emotions.

“G’morning Jamesie.” You slurred, gritting your teeth together, detesting the name you were just called. Still unable to figure out why, James gave you a look, a look that just said “what?” It hurt, knowing that he wouldn’t know why it spurred you on so much.

Fleamont soon joined you in the living room, taking the armchair in the middle of the room, burying himself in the comfort. Politely, you nodded towards him, acknowledging his presence, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“How did you two sleep?” He asked, gesturing between the two of you, to which you both smiled.

“Just fine, thank you, any you?” You responded for the both of you, feeling James’ hand curl around you own, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Just fine, although, I was walking down the hallway during the night and I noticed something peculiar.”

Unsure of what he meant, you egged him on. “What did you notice?”

“Your bedroom door was open, son; the pesky draft must’ve opened it. There was moonlight streaming in from the window, and I noticed the two of you curled up together.” Fleamont looked directly at you. “I didn’t realise the two of you were at that stage of your relationship.

As Fleamont winked at the two of you, your mouth fell open, appalled, as James was laughing like a maniac beside you. It wasn’t until Euphemia came into the living room to break apart their banter to get together for Christmas lunch.

It was a peaceful meal of casual conversation and light jokes. You stayed quiet most of the time, actually rather enjoying listening in on the fascinating stories that Euphemia and Fleamont were telling about James when he was a child. Soon, the conversation turned towards the future, and all eyes were on you.”

“Dear, what would you like to do when you leave Hogwarts?” It should’ve been an easy question to answer but you were stumped, unsure if you should answer as Lily or as yourself. Unable to think of something Lily would say, you decided to answer as you would.

“Actually, I want to study in a muggle university. Literature, or maybe anthropology. I’ve always been interested in learning about the world and my heart has always been somewhat attached to the muggle world. It’s where I want to flourish.” Embarrassed by your little monologue, you flushed a deep red, before turning back towards your ham.

“How inspiring,” Euphemia said, clapping her hands together in delight, “and what about marriage? Have you thought about settling down?”

You almost choked on your food at the question, catching you completely off guard. All eyes were on you and James now, with Sirius and Remus trying not to disturb anyone as they laughed in the distance.

“Uhm,” you looked at James for guidance but he also seemed just as uncomfortable as you were. “I haven’t thought that far through, to be completely honest.”

“Oh, but dear,” Euphemia looked positively thrilled. “We would be absolutely delighted for you to join our family. Lily Potter, my beautiful and caring daughter-in-law.”

“Okay, how about we clean up now, yeah?” Thankfully, James had broken up the conversation, offering to clean up the plates. Eager to leave the uncomfortable situations you helped bring in the stacks of food, offering to split it up, and repackage it for later consumption. You worked efficiently, avoiding anyone with the last name Potter at all cost.

When everything seemed to be tidied up, the Potter parents insisted that everyone sit around together for the gift giving portion of Christmas. Quietly, you rushed back to the bedroom, getting out the small gifts you had brought everyone for the Christmas season while you were out the other day.

Sitting amongst everyone, it felt like everything was back to normal. No more awkward conversations about the future plagued the atmosphere, just joyous laughter and pure happiness circling the room.

Firstly, you gave small presents to Sirius and Remus, including some quills for school, and gunpowder for pranks. You gave Euphemia and Fleamont some Christmas fudge that you had found, as well as a thank you note, thanking them for letting you stay over the Christmas season. Lastly, you handed a small box to James, a lacy ribbon decorating it.

“Open it.” You spoke in an almost whisper, as James’ fingers fiddled with the ribbon. As it fell open, you heard the small gasp from James, as he took the chain out of the box.

It was a small silver bracelet, yet it was decorated by a tiny, dangling gem, the colour of the deep blue ocean, something that seemed to have enchanted the bespectacled boy.

“It’s a sapphire.” You said, running your fingers over the cold chain. “It’s supposed to represent honesty, trust, loyalty. Everything that embodies you.” You spoke with so much weight in your chest, speaking from the deepest depths of your heart. Everything you said was true.

Swooping down, James pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering a hushed “I love you” under his breath, so faint that you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to hear it.

The rest of the presents were handed out, until there was only one left underneath the Christmas tree. With a smile on his face, Fleamont reached down underneath the tree, grabbing the package and passing it to you.

It should’ve been a happy moment, a moment where you truly felt like you belonged in the Potter house. It did at first as the smile seemed to never be able to falter, until you stared down at the packaging, noticing the name ‘Lily Evans’ written in cursive. A single tear ran down your face as you realised something harsh in that very moment. It was always going to be Lily Evans, never Y/N L/N.

The feeling got worse as you carrot undid the wrapping paper, revealing a collection of polaroid photographs. They were all different shots of you and James throughout the holidays. Curled up on the couch, baking in the kitchen, out on the walls, sucking the juice off of his fingers. The last one made you laugh as you remembered the memory that had now turned fond.

“I love them. Thank you so much.”

The day was mostly mundane, just filled with more activities, like chess, or cleaning to fill in the time. It seemed like everyone was just waiting for the snow to melt, so they could all go back outside again. You knew James was just itching to play with his Quidditch set outside.

Strangely enough, you found yourself outside in the snow, wrapped up tight from the weather. The snow had stopped falling for a peaceful moment, so you thought it would be the perfect time to get some fresh air, away from the overwhelming company.

You were soon joined though, as you heard the front door open and close from behind you. You didn’t even have to guess who it was as they stood beside you, taking in a deep breath, exhaling visibling in the frosty air.

“How are you doing?” James looked over to you, his eyes laced with concern. You shrugged, smiling that he seemed to care about you. It warmed you.

“Overwhelmed, but you’ve been perfect. All thanks to you, I think they might actually believe it.” You were now completely facing James now, looking up into his deep, aquamarine eyes, watching as the tint changed when the light hit the irises at a different angle. It was mesmerising.

You weren’t the only one mesmerised though. James couldn’t stop staring at your beauty. The way your eyes sparkled in the light. The way your skin catched the light snow that was starting to fall. Your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you off guard, but it left you feeling unsatisfied. Before you could even respond, you had James by the collar of his sweater, pulling him down ever so slightly so your lips could meet with his. It was light fire and electricity, a thousand gusts of wind blowing through you, spilling into you like an endless thunderstorm. You kissed him like it was the last time you were ever going to see him, hungry, desperate, passionate.

You were in love.

***

Saturday 26th December

You had fallen asleep on the couch, slumped with James as he cocooned your sleeping body between his limbs. Unfortunately, your slumber had been awoken in the early hours of the morning by banging on the front door. Groggily, James got up, rubbing his head with his hands.

Running your fingers through your hair, you got up with him, putting on a sweater to make yourself look more presentable. James’ sweater, to be exact.

The four other residents of the house had now awoken from the persistent knocking and had joined us downstairs. It was just after sunrise so everyone was sort of dazed and out of it. With one last eye rub, James swung the door open to reveal the person standing there.

Lily Evans, with her hair like a roaring fire, cheeks naturally rosy, and eyes glinting like a morning sunrise, she stood there, clutching her hands nervously. As soon as she saw James though, she flung her arms around his neck, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” A string of apologies came out of her mouth as tears started running down her cheeks, dark mascara staining her porcelain skin. A confused look was shot my way as Euphemia just stared between the two of us, unsure of what to do.

“Hello darling.” Euphemia’s motherly voice was out to play. ”If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”

“Oh sorry for not introducing myself.” Lily removed herself from James’ figuring, wiping her eyes on her sleeves, as she stuck her hand out to be shaken. “I’m Lily Evans, nice to meet you.”

Then, Lily noticed your looming form sending a curious look your way. It wasn’t the only look of confusion. Euphemia and Fleamont were almost unreadable as you flicked between the two of them.

It was time to come clean.

“This is Lily Evans, my ex girlfriend.” James had the same idea as you, introducing the red headed girl to his parents finally.

“And this is Y/N L/N, my close friend.”

Friend.

That’s all you were. That’s all you would ever be, compared to Lily.

It took a bit of explaining and sitting Fleamont and Euphemia down to fully explain the plan. You started off with the breakup and then talked about the devilish plan, saying that all you wanted to do was keep Christmas light and cheery. All you got were uncomfortable looks from James’ parents.

When everything was laid out on the table, Fleamont got up and left, obviously disappointed in the choices you and his son had made. Euphemia looked as though she had just swallowed a bee, lips pursed as she contemplated the next move.

“Well, Y/N,” the name fell bitterly for her lips; it sounded so foreign, so unnatural. “You are happy to stay with us until tomorrow. It was nice to finally meet you.”

That was the full extent of the conversation. For the rest of the day, it seemed as though Fleamont and Euphemia were keeping James and you away from each other, always asking one or the other to help with chores, or to do a mundane activity with them.

It wasn’t until night time dawned on the residence. The atmosphere had unfortunately changed after Lily’s short and unexpected visit. Her exit was speedy after her unprompted entrance, an uneasy ripple of tension in the house.

When it was time to sleep, Euphemia had shown you to a spare room, taking initiative to set you up somewhere separate, now knowing that you weren’t actually dating James. It was cold though, empty and alone, and as you tried to sleep, your hands kept trailing to James’ side of the bed, searching for him.

You took it upon yourself to take matters into your own hands. Creeping through the house, you found yourself outside of James’ bedroom door. Quietly, you knocked, waiting a few seconds before entering. James was lying in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the open curtain which was letting in trickles of moonlight. When you entered, he looked back at you, his lips parted slightly in shock.

“Can I…?” Your voice trailed off as you couldn’t bare to finish your sentence in embarrassment, but James seemed to know what you were alluding to, pulling back the covers almost immediately.

“Of course.”

***

Sunday 27th December

You woke in early hours of the morning. It was intentional, not wanting to be found in James’ bed again. It would be scandalous. You laid back in your new bed, closing your eyes for a moment, hoping you could go back asleep, but sleep couldn’t find you.

Before breakfast had started, you had packed you bags, ready to catch the train at ten o’clock. An early breakfast run was needed as you munched some Christmas leftovers, opposite sides of the table from James. You still hadn’t talked about what had happened. Even last night, you had only just cuddled until you both had fallen asleep. Your feelings till needed to be addressed.

Hurriedly, the four Hogwarts students were aparated back to King’s Cross Station by Euphemia and Fleamont, both with sorrowful looks on their faces. They were hugging their son goodbye, then moving onto Sirius and Remus, hugging them like they were also their children. You shifted awkwardly in the group.

“And we can’t forget you, now can we, Y/N?” It was still strange hearing your own name come from their lips, but you welcomed it, slightly happy to be the only receptor of the love now. As you were pulled into a jug by Euphemia, you could hear the last words she spoke to you. “Thank you for looking after my son. I’d be happy to have you as my daughter-in-law.”

Last minute goodbyes were said as you all bundled up onto the train, finding a carriage right in front of where Euphemia and Fleamont were standing. You waved cheerfully at them as the train pulled out of the station, a chapter of your life closing.

You hadn’t noticed Remus and Sirius had stepped out of the carriage, giving you and James some much needed privacy. There wasn’t much that needed to be said though. Everything that needed to be communicated had already been done through awkward glances and small looks.

“Hey.” His voice was almost silent.

“Hey.”

A pause.

“What are we?”

“Whatever you want to be.” You eventually said. James hummed in agreement, resting his head in his hand.

“Onwards?”

You smiled.

“Onwards.”

#James potter #James potter x reader #James potter fluff #James potter angst #harry potter #marauders #marauders era

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Adoption Papers

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

Part 2 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

Camila officially adopts Hunter and Vee

Might be a little hard to explain where they came from, though.

Direct Sequel to “Another Shot at Life”

Ao3

“What’s a social security?”

“What do you mean an ID?”

“Why do we have to do a bunch of paperwork to live here? Luz just lived in Eda’s house for months!”

Camila pinched the bridge of her nose. “Things work differently here than in the Boiling Isles. And if the two of you don’t want me to get arrested for kidnapping, we have to fill out paperwork, and I have to officially adopt you.”

Vee sniffed the papers. “But I’ve already been living here!”

“Yeah, pretending to be me,” Luz reminded her, “Gonna be a liiiiiitle hard to explain why there’s two of us.”

Hunter squinted at the documents. “I used to do paperwork for the coven. But I have no idea what any of this says.” It was all a lot of technical stuff—with a lot of words he didn’t know the meaning of.

Camila sighed. “I’ve filled out most of it, but… we’re going to need to explain where the two of you came from. And ‘wandered in from another dimension’ isn’t something I think we can tell people.”

Luz bounced up. “Ooo! I’ve got it!” She waved a hand. “Vee is my twin sister, separated at birth!”

“Luz, sweetie, the hospital records will say otherwise.”

“Okay, okay, how abooooout… we say that Vee was a home birth, maybe a year younger than me, but Dad took her away with him when he left, and we assumed he’d do all of the registry, but apparently he didn’t? What are they going to do, track him down and ask him? They haven’t managed that yet. We can say that Vee ran away and came home to us.”

“That might work. What about Hunter?”

Luz grinned at him. “We found him living feral in the woods, he was raised by a pack of wolves.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out at her.

“Yeaaah… I don’t think that one’s gonna fly.”

“How about we tell them the truth?” Vee asked, “We say he ran away from a bad situation, and we’ve been taking care of him.”

“What if they start investigating? They’ll ask him questions, definitely, and if they try to figure out who his family is-!”

Luz jumped up and down. “Oooooo, tell them your horrible family chased you, and tried to push you off of a cliff, but they slipped and fell off and died!”

Hunter felt sick. “Pass.”

“Let’s stick to something simple. You and your… uncle… traveled, didn’t have a home, and you slipped away one day. You were camping out in the old abandoned house to hide, Vee found you there and brought you home, and you’ve been living with us ever since.”

“What if they try to figure out who his family is?” Vee asked, “I mean, uncle sounds a lot like he might have just kidnapped him.”

Hunter shrugged. “I’ll tell them my whole family was already dead. Freak boating accident, bodies never found. They were recluses, no one noticed they were missing. I’ll say uhhhhhhhh, I don’t remember their names, because I was a kid, and my uncle never told me our last name.”

Luz squinted at him. “What is your last name?”

“No idea.”

Camila sighed. “This is getting complicated. What if they start trying to figure out where your family lived?”

“Mexico,” Luz said immediately, “But Hunter was born over the border.”

“Does he look Mexican to you?”

“Okay, fine, Canada, whatever!”

“Let’s just… keep it simple, okay, Luz? Hunter, what do you think? This is your story, you have to be able to tell it.”

His story. Okay, who did he want to be? “I think… I think Vee’s idea is good,” he said slowly, “Ran away—I’ll just say he was my uncle. And we were homeless, so there’s nowhere they could track him down to. Even if they DO start looking for my birth family, it’s not like they can actually pull anything up, because I’m not from here. Okay. So, I ran away, made my way to Gravesfield, camped out in the abandoned house for a bit, then Vee found me, uhhhhh…”

“A week ago,” Vee offered.

“Okay, yeah, a week ago.”

“And if they ask for details about your uncle?”

“I’ll just talk about Belos. It’s not like they can find him.”

Camila nodded. “Okay! The closest adoption agency is out of town, but I already scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. First hurdle, guys!”

“First?” Hunter echoed.

“Oh, yeah, we have to get the two of you enrolled in school—”

“School?!”

Luz laughed. “Ohhhhhhh, you’re gonna hate it, Mr. Prodigy.”

“I don’t need school!”

“Yeah? Do you know how to do algebra? How about chemistry? Physics?”

“No?” Hunter looked to Luz. “Those are fake, right?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, they’re all very real.”

“I don’t need those.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Camila interrupted, “For now, let’s just… focus on the adoption, okay?”

She looked… nervous. Which made Hunter nervous.

“What… what happens if they don’t believe me?”

Camila rubbed the back of her head. “I… I don’t know, mijo. If they dig deeper, I… but it will be fine.”

Still, Hunter didn’t sleep that night, his mind running through every possible way that this could go wrong. The next morning, when they loaded up in the car, he could see dark circles under Camila’s eyes, too. It did not make him feel better.

Hunter tossed his palisman gently out the window before they set off, the bird fluttering around his head. “You can’t come with us. Stay here and protect the house, okay?”

The bird chirped in affirmation, flapping back to sit on the roof.

Vee fell back asleep, leaning against him, and he resisted the urge to shake her awake and demand to know how she could possibly not be worried about this.

Hunter hadn’t ever gone outside of Gravesfield, and it was hitting him just now how… huge… the human realm was. He watched countryside flash by outside the car window, and even still, they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

And then buildings loomed in front of him, huge and imposing. Hunter pressed his face against the window. “Is this the capital of the human realm?”

“Ha. No. We’re not even in the capital of Connecticut.”

“Seriously?!”

Hunter watched the streets go by. This world was enormous, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

They had the key on this side, and since he was here, Belos was down one coven head—hypothetically, his uncle couldn’t complete his day of unity plans. But if he did, or if he managed to get back through, somehow…

Hunter was almost confident that this world was big enough for him to hide in.

They pulled up to an office building, and Camila took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing. Come on, kids.”

They all followed behind her into the building, and Camila approached the desk. “Hiiii. I’m Camila Noceda, I have an appointment about a couple of adoptions?”

The desk attendant glanced behind her at the three of them. “Down the hall, first door on the right. Right on time.”

Camila gave the attendant a nod. Hunter and Vee both crowded close to her as they filed into the office. “Hello?”

The woman at the desk looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, a thermos on a table covered in papers. “Hey. Paperwork.”

Camila tentatively handed her the packet, and she disappeared into a back room, coming back out after about ten minutes.

“So, neither of these kids is in the system?”

Camila shook her head. “Neither.”

The woman squinted at Vee. “Certainly looks like your other daughter. Why didn’t you report her father taking her?”

“We… we were separating. We thought he’d already filed everything.”

A grunt. “Alright. You. Other one. Hunter. C’mere.”

Hunter looked to Camila, and she gave him a little nod. He followed the woman into the other room, where she read over his form again. “Tell me about your uncle.”

“What? Why?”

“We need to see if we can find him.”

Hunter’s blood chilled. “I’m not going back!”

“Hey, it’s okay. We need to find him because we just don’t know enough about you—not even your last name. So we need your uncle for more information.”

“You won’t find him.”

“Uh-huh. Let us try, at least. Physical description?”

Hunter sighed. “Tall. Blond but greying, long hair, blue eyes. Old.” Face creeping with slime, occasionally turns into a puddle of goop, can’t miss him.

“His name?”

“Belos.”

“There’s one you don’t hear every day. Last name?”

“Dunno.”

“Right. Of course not. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

The woman sighed. “You’ve got to work with me, here.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole adoption will go a lot more smoothly. Where was the last place you saw him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Fine. How long ago did you see him?”

Hunter struggled to remember. Kind of hard to tell when he didn’t know how much time he’d lost falling down into a cursed prison of darkness.

But according to Luz, that had only been for a couple of hours, even if it had felt like forever.

“Two weeks,” he said softly.

Two weeks since he’d been rescued. Two weeks since the worst time of his life.

“And you… ran away?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you explain why?”

Hunter shuddered. “Because I was miserable.”

“Specifically?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t take you away from your uncle if he wasn’t a bad parent, Hunter. If we don’t have any indication he did anything wrong, then he can reclaim you any time he likes, and we are obligated to try to find him and return you to him. I understand that it may be painful to talk about it, but we cannot proceed without information about your past life.”

“Fine,” Hunter snapped, “He hurt me, and he locked me up, and he made me run errands for him and would punish me if I failed, happy?”

A slight pause. “What kind of errands?”

Hunting down palisman so he could drain them of their magic. “Uh… picking up medicine for him.”

“Medicine? What kind?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just picked it up. I didn’t ask questions, it wasn’t encouraged.”

“But you ran away, ended up in Gravesfield, where Camila found you a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Wait outside, send Camila in.”

Hunter shuffled out. “She wants you.”

Camila nodded, disappearing into the other room, closing the door behind her. Vee nudged him. “Are you okay?”

“She was asking about Belos.”

“I’m sorry,” Luz said softly.

Hunter paced back and forth. “What do you think they’re talking about?” He crept closer to the door, pressing his ear to the door.

“Hunter,” Vee hissed, “Get away from there, it’s rude!”

“I want to know what they’re saying,” he hissed back, “Shhhh!”

He pressed his ear to the door again. The voices were faint, but he could make out what they were saying.

“Obviously, if Vee is your biological daughter, there isn’t any reason for us to keep her from you. I don’t think there will be any difficulty with the transition. But Hunter… Ms. Noceda, you may be rushing into more than you can handle.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know him well. We don’t know where he came from, or what he’s done.”

“What he’s done?”

“He’s a liar, ma’am, you wrote that he was homeless, but he claimed his uncle would lock him up. Those two aren’t exactly compatible. He very obviously isn’t telling us everything—and I suspect he may have been part of a drug delivery system without knowledge. If I can believe him that he didn’t know what his uncle’s ‘medicine’ was.”

“Okay, well, let’s just say that I am really, really, really determined to adopt him anyway.”

“I’m really advising you not to. Let us get him into the system, foster him out, see how he does before you go all in on adopting him. He might not even be separated from his uncle—they might be planning to rob or hurt you and your family.”

“Hunter,” Camila thundered, “is not going to hurt us. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to foster him out.”

Hunter pulled back from the door, feeling sick. “Luz, what’s fostering?”

Her face paled. “It’s… it’s when they sort of send you out to different families to take care of you.”

“I don’t want to go to a different family!”

“You won’t,” Luz soothed, “Mom won’t let them take you away. And you can just run away if they do.”

Hunter started to pace, his chest getting tight. “I can’t start running away here, too! That’ll just make all of the adoption stuff harder, right?”

Vee grabbed his hand. “Hunter. Look at me.”

He did, the fingers of his free hand tapping restlessly on the side of his leg.

Vee gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she said firmly, “We aren’t going to leave you behind. Promise.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Good. Now sit down, and just think about other stuff. Like school.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“I’ll teach you algebra,” Vee promised, “They had a whole course on it at summer camp—it’s not so bad. And I’ll introduce you to my friends, too. You’ll be a couple grades older than us, but that’s okay.”

Luz bounced up. “Speaking of school, Hunter, is there any chance I can borrow Red? I know we’re worried about using the portal, but Eda and Amity and King and Gus and Willow will all be so worried about me!”

“Use your little…” Hunter clicked his fingers in the air. “Your little yellow thing.”

“My—you think that will work between dimensions?”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot. Might as well try before we open the portal and risk Belos getting in.” Hunter tapped his fingers against the chair. “If there’s natural titan’s blood veins in the Boiling Isles, then there’s a place here where it connects, right?”

“Right. That’s how Phillip—he wrote the diary I was using to figure out my portal—got into the demon realm in the first place.”

“So we might not need the key portal if we can find a place on this side where the worlds intersect.” Hunter’s stomach roiled. “Except that if we can do that, that means Belos has another way to get blood.”

“If I can just get in contact with Eda, she might be able to figure out my portal and then we don’t have to—”

The door to the other room burst open. Camila grinned, her hands behind her back. “Okay, Vee, Hunter, close your eyes, and hold out your hands!”

Vee did what she said, and Hunter followed suit, a little more hesitantly. Something paper settled in his hand. “Okay, open your eyes now.”

Hunter blinked at the paper in his hand.

Hunter Noceda.

Vee bounced up and down. “We did it!”

“They’re still finalizing everything—social security, birth certificates, all of that will take a bit more time. But you two are legally part of the family and under my care, now!”

Hunter Noceda.

The words felt… odd, in his head. But a good kind of odd.

Luz slung her arms around Vee and Hunter’s necks. “Whoo! Two new siblings! I didn’t use to have… well, any! I mean, I had you, but legally!” She shook Hunter slightly. “See? Nothing to worry about, I told you Mom could handle it!”

“Hunter Noceda.” He had a last name, now. A family name. “Vee Noceda.” It felt more natural to say her name—but then, she’d already seemed to be part of the family.

Luz cackled with glee. “Aha! You know what that means? Now the two of you have to wear ugly sweaters for family Christmas card pictures!”

“Ugly sweaters?” Vee questioned

“Christ-mas?” Hunter echoed.

“Ehehehe. Welcome to the Noceda family. You two have a lot of family tradition to catch up on.”

#wow this series is going to be so self-indulgent #toh #the owl house #toh hunter #camila noceda #lil rascal #luz noceda #vee noceda #toh fanfiction #my writing

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spunkpunx · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #blur band #britpop #90s imagine #smut #blur #britpop imagine #alex james #alex james x reader #battle of britpop

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palimpsessed · 3 years

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I have a question for you because you are SO GOOD at analyzing awtwb. Can you explain the “is this what people do?” Thinking that Simon is going through? Most of the things he goes through I see reflected in myself or people I know, but I haven’t seen that before. I would love to know all your thoughts on that?

Hi, Anon! Thanks for sending this ask and for your kind words about my analysis. ❤️

I would love to talk about "is this what people do"!

I'm going to give you my take, and then I'm going to include some thoughts from a friend who isn't on tumblr. Let’s dive in!

Simon asks "is this what people do" because he truly doesn't know what people do. He knows how to be a Chosen One, but he doesn't know how to be a person. He's spent the bulk of his life up until this point as a weapon. He understands how to fight, how to protect those around him, how to sacrifice himself, but he doesn't really understand living for the sake of living. In my answer to another ask, I talked about how Simon doesn't know how to be at peace. I think that's applicable here, too.

Part of what Simon struggles with so much in the time between the end of CO and the beginning of WS is how to live without having a defined purpose, a "mission". He's lost a lot of things that he allowed to define his sense of self, and now he has to sort out who he is without all of that. We see him start to make progress with living for the sake of living in WS: going on a roadtrip to a place he's always wanted to see; being silly and flirting at the Renaissance Faire and walking around with his wings out; flying over Utah, getting to feel the wind in his face and under his wings. But most of the time, he's still struggling with being at peace—living without a mission. Living for himself.

The WS epilogue tells us: "This is what happens if you try to hang on after the end…the pages go blank...Simon Snow's [story] is over." There's no established arc for a hero post-final battle—there's no set narrative or expectations for this point in Simon's life and he's struggling in the uncertainty of it all. He's also struggling with the lingering trauma from years of neglect, exploitation, and violence.

There's a reason the gang literally goes off the map in WS—there is no guide for this part of their journey, and, at least for Simon, doing the "normal" expected thing at this time (getting a flat, going to university, making new friends) isn't working for him. He doesn't have any idea what to do with his life now—this part was never planned out for him. As a child in care and then a boy soldier, Simon never had agency over himself. He was responsible for the fate of the World of Mages and saving all of magic, but he wasn't ever allowed to be responsible for himself. I don't mean that Simon doesn't know how to take care of himself—I'd argue he's the most self-sufficient and practically-minded of the gang because of all the time he was left to fend for himself. But Simon is going out into the world as an adult and there isn't someone else to tell him what to do anymore. (This is something we all face at some point growing up, but it's definitely more extreme in his case!) Don't get me wrong. Being in control of his own life is a really good thing for Simon, but it also leaves him without any idea of how to navigate through life. Someone else has always been there to give him orders or to give him a plan, but we see all of the plans in WS fall apart.

In AWTWB, Simon tries move forward with a new plan—one he thinks is best for everyone—fracturing his relationships with the two most important people in his life while also attempting to make a clean break from magic. It's the wrong thing to do, even if it's something that needs to happen. From the end of CO to the start of AWTWB, Simon chooses to do nothing, because he's afraid. Then he does the wrong thing, also out of fear.

Instead of fighting, which is what he's always done before, Simon allows fear to keep him from acting, allows fear to drive him away from what's important. Simon didn't fear dying as a child in the course of his heroic deeds, but he does fear a future spent with the people he loves (it's "frightening"). He fears it because it’s “uncertain” and he doesn't think he can hold onto it (“I never believed I’d get to keep you”). He doesn't think he has a right to try.

"Is this what people do" is Simon trying. It's him trying with Baz, specifically. Simon is scared because he and Baz are in unknown territory, and he cares so much about making things work between them. He knows how much there is to lose. He just doesn’t know what he needs to do to hold on to Baz. He doesn’t really have any idea what a healthy relationship looks like. I know I’ve seen discussions about how Simon never had proper relationship modeling. (@mostlymaudlin has addressed this and other aspects of Simon’s previous relationship experience with Agatha in this post that is highly relevant and I also just recommend it.) Yes, Simon has prior experience with Agatha, but he didn’t know what he was doing in that relationship either and he tells Baz that his experience with her doesn’t come anywhere close to his feelings for Baz. With Agatha, Simon saw a nebulous “happy ending” without knowing what that happy ending was going to look like, nor how he was going to get there. He has no idea of the reality of a healthy relationship or how to do the hard work to maintain it. This is what both Simon and Baz are learning in AWTWB.

When the refrain comes up, it's always in response to a milestone that Simon and Baz have crossed in their relationship, from (practically) moving in together to being intimate.

Simon is mentally taking a step back and looking at his relationship with Baz. He's looking at the things they're doing, as a couple. Things they've not managed to do before, or things they have done that he hasn't given himself the space to process—something he admits he never did with Agatha. Simon asking the question "is this what people do" encapsulates so much: Is this what life and love looks like for other people? For us? Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? What we're supposed to be doing? How do I feel about what’s happening now? What do I want to happen? Is this how two people love each other?

The ways in which the refrain shifts over the course of the book show us how Simon's thinking shifts as his relationship with Baz progresses. And at the end, the refrain has changed from a question into a statement. Seeing the first and last occurrences next to each other tells so much of the story of Simon's growth.

Chapter 38:

Is this what people do when they're in love? Do they just keep touching and talking? And then what? Like what is it all leading to? I don't mean sex, I mean…

If I knew what I meant, it wouldn't be so frightening.

I'm living second by second.

Chapter 82:

This is what people do.

They get close and try to stay there.

They stay.

They keep trying to hold on to each other...this is what they do. They keep trying.

…This is what people do. This is what we'll do. Baz and me.

…"Stay with me."

"I will."

This shift in confidence is subtle, but it is such a big deal! Simon has gone from not being able to think about the future at all to promising Baz that he will stay with him and keep trying in their relationship. He's answered the question for himself!!! He’s figured out how to try for Baz. The thing is, in the end, it really doesn’t matter what “people” do. It matters what Simon and Baz do, because they’re the ones who are doing this together, for each other. They have plenty of time to figure out how “what people do” is going to look for them.

Now I want to add some thoughts shared by RooBadley in the conversations we've had about "is this what people do". I always appreciate getting Roo's take on things, and I completely agree with them on this. (Do yourself a favor and check out Roo's AO3 if you haven't already.)

"the subtlety of [is this what people do is] a reflection of [Simon’s] queerness/a touchstone universal queer youth experience (is this what it's supposed to be like? I dunno, I've never seen A Person Like Me get to have a happy/healthy/normal relationship). Is this what (queer) people do? Am I doing it right?"

and...

"I've ruminated more on that statement as reference to the queer experience and I feel like there's more evidence to support that reading. we know he's had sex with Agatha (and he's woke/attentive enough to know about peeing to prevent UTI's, so clearly he knows what straight, penetrative sex is) and there's that lovely line at the start about Dr Wellbelove giving him the birds & bees talk, but leaving some things out (I love that bit) And he's so confident when he's talking with Baz about having had sex with Agatha, like, he knows what they did. It's just with Baz that he's suddenly in self-doubt "is this..." Land"

Reading this take from Roo about a universal queer youth experience definitely hit home for me. I think Rainbow did a superb job of speaking to multiple experiences with Simon’s journey and in treating that journey with so much care. I think it’s amazing that we get to see this part of the story, this aftermath and healing, because it really isn’t part of the established story arc we’re used to and it really should be. Like you said in your ask, Anon, we’ve all had lived experiences that help us see ourselves in these characters, and to watch them struggle and persevere and succeed is incredibly important.

If anyone has anything they’d like to add on, or another question to ask, as always, please feel free to do so! I will never get enough of talking about this book! ❤️

#asks #awtwb spoilers #is this what people do

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thunder-at-dawn · 3 years

Text

Rose Colored Cheeks

word count: 3,657

summary: days before the l’manburg vs. dream team war, wilbur and eret decide to have a toast to how far they’ve come. in the process, eret points out how easy it is to make wilbur blush, and the commander decides to have some fun of his own.

woooo! this fic is done, and it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written for this account so far! enjoy one of my favorite duos :D

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

cw: alcohol

“Eret, I have a question.”

“Wilbur, I likely have an answer.”

“When was the last time you drank alcohol?”

Eret huffed, leaning against the outside of the camarvan as she thought of an answer for her leader. She pondered in her head, not quite being able to come up with a clear answer.

“...I can’t come up with an exact date. It was more than quite a few months ago, but...it was definitely within the past year.” She nodded. “I don’t exactly remember what happened or where I was, my memory is a little hazy. Although... I believe I was likely drinking because of a celebration of some sort, perhaps?”

“A celebration?” Wilbur repeated.

“Yeah. I usually only drink when it comes to special occasions.” She shrugged, glancing at the sunset that was slowly spreading over the sky. “What about you? When was the last time you drank?”

“Not fairly long ago.” Wilbur shook his head. “Probably only a month or two ago.”

“Why do you ask?” Eret questioned curiously, before she suddenly felt Wilbur take her hand in his own.

“Come inside with me, Eret.” He said with a smile. She smiled as well, letting Wilbur guide her inside of the camarvan. Once they were inside of the van, Wilbur let go of her hand to walk into the back room. The eyeless entity leaned against the wall, being able to hear her friend rummaging through various things to find what he was looking for.

“Ah, there we go.” She could hear Wilbur mutter quietly. The young man returned from the back of the room, holding two empty champagne glasses, one in each hand, and setting them down in front of him.

“Are those for what I think they’re for?” Eret asked with an eyebrow raised.

“They might be.” Wilbur chuckled, heading back into the back room momentarily. She could hear more rustling, and he reentered, holding a bottle of champagne in his hands.

“In a few days time, we go off to war with the Dream Team. I wanted to have a proper gathering of some sort, where we celebrate our triumphs one last time before the war, before we have even more to celebrate.” Wilbur exclaimed, placing the bottle on the table. “However, not only are we the only ones awake right now, we’re also the only ones on our side who can legally drink. So... I think that we should have a toast.”

“A toast?” Eret repeated curiously, stepping forward towards her comrade.

“A toast, to how far we’ve come. You’ve been a good person to me, Eret. You’ve been a friend, a comrade, a brother. While I didn’t want to have to come to the terms of war with the other side, I know this battle will bring us closer than ever before.” Wilbur continued to speak as he attempted to twist the cork off of the bottle. “So, because of that, I believe... that we should... should have a toast- ugh. A toast to our-“

“Do you need any help with that, Wilbur?” She interrupted, watching her leader struggle to get the cork off.

“Nonono, I’ve got it.” Wilbur insisted, still struggling to twist off the cork on the bottle, shaking it to see if that would get it loose.

“Are you sure?” Asked Eret, entertained by her commander’s struggle.

“I promise you Eret, I’m fine, I-“

POP!

“Oh no!” Eret laughed as she felt a stream of cold champagne spray onto her jacket. She rushed over to help control the spray as Wilbur panicked, quickly dipping the bottle down and spraying the insides of the glasses with the cold, sparkly liquid. Afterwards, he grabbed an empty potion bottle nearby, attempting to spray the rest of the champagne into it. It filled up quickly, and Eret laughed more when Wilbur started to repeatedly curse out loud when it started to overflow. Eventually, the champagne stopped spraying out of the bottle.

“Wilbur, are you drunk already? The champagne is supposed to go in the bottle.” Eret joked.

The commander’s face suddenly turned a bright pink. “Sh-Shut up.” He stammered with a chuckle, shoving Eret’s arm before rushing off to find something to clean up the mess with. She giggled, following him to the back room.

“Has anyone ever pointed out how easy you are to fluster?” She asked with a shit-eating grin.

“Eret, stop talking.” Wilbur demanded as he rummaged through the chest.

“Your face is like, bright pink. Like a peony. That’s how much you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing!” He insisted. Eret simply laughed at him, doubling over and clutching her stomach as Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“Relax, I’m just teasing you.” She giggled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How about we clean this up later, and just go ahead and celebrate, like you said?”

Wilbur couldn’t help but smile when he saw Eret taking enjoyment in the situation, chuckling quietly. “Alright… I suppose this mess can wait.” He said, handing her one of the glasses. He picked up his own, holding it up.

“A toast to the future.” Eret said with a smile, holding her glass up as well.

“And to how far we’ve come, my friend.”

“Hehey. Hey. Wilbur. Wilburwilburwilbur.”

“Oh my god, what?”

“This was a great idea.”

“Hmm… judging by how you’re acting, I’m not quite sure.”

“I’m not acting! I’m saving my acting skills for the stage and the spotlight.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight back a grin. They had a few…refills, he wouldn’t lie.

And while he was still in a somewhat of a decently regular headspace, Eret was another story.

She’s on a whole different astral plane, he thought. His friend beside him had been cracking jokes and snarky remarks, her speech was slurred, and hiccupy giggles were seemingly always pouring out of her mouth. They had moved out of the camarvan, and were now sitting next to each other outside in the grass, under the stars.

“Wilbur… y’know, I think the last time I was like this, I was at a party, and…” Eret paused, staring at Wilbur as she giggled, the continued. “And- and there was this guy there, and he told me about this thing called updog. It was really cool, and I think someone like you might wanna hear about it~!” Dragging out the last word, she rested her arm on her friend’s shoulder. Wilbur watched the other explain her story with amusement, even giggling a bit himself before he rolled his eyes.

“Hmm, really Eret? Well, now that you’ve told me, I must know…what…” He sighed, wondering if it was really a good idea to go along with this. “…What’s updog?”

While it wouldn’t be able to be seen from behind her sunglasses, Eret’s blank eyes widened in amusement, and she snorted before cracking up with laughter. “Y-Yohou- Yohou fehehell fohor ihihit!” She hiccuped, laughing as she leaned back into the grass.

“Oh my gohod.” Wilbur snickered, laying down next to Eret in the grass. Her reaction was only making him beam more. “Eret, if you keep laughing this loud, you’re going to wake up Tommy, Fundy, and everyone else here in L’Manburg.” He chuckled.

“Sihince whehen dihid yohou cahare *hic* abohout Tohommy’s sleheheep schehedule?” Eret asked through hiccupy, hysterical giggling.

“Oh, shut it.” Wilbur grumbled as he could feel his cheeks heating up.

“Yohou’re bluhushing! Agahain!” She observed, pointing at Wilbur’s pink face. She sat up and gently held his face, eyes widening in surprise. “Wohow, you’re a bit warm, actually!”

“Am not.” He scoffed, leaning into the touch of Eret’s hand.

“Are too.” She snapped back.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am noHOHOT-!” Wilbur jumped in place when he felt a hand squeeze at his side. The pink blush on his face only grew deeper. “Eret!”

“I win!” Eret threw her hands in the air, once again going back to a giggly state afterwards. Wilbur crossed his arms, grumbling under his breath as his friend laughed with victory.

She lowered her hands and her giggles slowed down as she looked back at Wilbur. “You really are easy to fluster. What is that, the third time I’ve made you blush tonight?” She asked, grinning softly at her commander.

“Oh, shut it.” Wilbur groaned, before coming up with a question to ask. “Actually, Eret, how easily would you say you blush?”

“Hmm… not that much. I take pride in not being a big flustered person like you.” Eret responded, her speech slurred as she giggled once more and poked Wilbur’s cheek. He hated that he could feel his cheeks heating up, and could see Eret’s smile grown more in amusement.

However, he did come up with an idea.

“I bet I can make you blush.” Wilbur challenged.

Eret’s eyebrows raised up, curious about this idea of Wilbur’s. “Oh, really?” She asked, leaning towards Wilbur. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I have my ways.” Wilbur shrugged, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“And your ways are not going to work. However, I would be very, very entertained to see you try!”

“Alright…” Wilbur shrugged, glaring at his friend. “You better prepare yourself though. I’m not going to be nice.”

“…Huh? What do you mean by thAT-?!”

Before Eret could continue, she was knocked into the grass, landing with a thud. Opening her eyes, she saw Wilbur’s grinning face, and took notice of the fact that he was straddling her legs, and she couldn’t move them.

“Now, Eret, I’ll have you know, I like to pride myself in being an observant person. And just about a week ago, I observed something very interesting.”

“And what would that be?” Eret asked before a hiccup stopped her from saying anything else.

“…Do you remember that one day, where Tommy was just… I dunno, being more of a pest than usual? He was being super loud, and he kept poking me. And at one point, I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine…and it escalated to one big, childish tickle fight between everyone in the camarvan that day.”

Oh no.

Any but of confidence Eret had before this had dropped. Wilbur could easily tell.

“You remember that, right? Surely, you do, because, out of the corner of my eye, I caught you getting tag-team wrecked by Fundy and Tubbo.” Wilbur smirked, chuckling as he saw Eret’s confident smile suddenly drop.

“I-Is that your plan? Tickling me until I blush?” Eret asked, trying to regain her confidence back. “That’s not going to work.”

“Stuttering already, are we? Are you a bit embarrassed, Eret?” Wilbur asked.

“Of course not.” She responded a bit too quickly, shaking her head.

Wilbur simply laughed at her predicament, already planning things in his head. “Anyway, no. I’m not going to tickle you…yet. Seeing as you’re already a bit nervous…I think that I should make you a bit more anticipated for what’s to come.”

Oh no. Oh fuck.

“You see, I had to do a bit of…convincing, to get Fundy to tell me about your spots. As your commander, I think that there are certain, important things that a leader should know about his comrades.” Wilbur’s smirk grew, and he adjusted his hands so that the were resting in the crevice to Eret’s armpits.

“You know the keep your arms up game? Classic game to play? Yeah, Fundy told me that you were playing this game, and you were horrible at it. Like, you moved your arms down instantly, he said.”

Eret scoffed. “Okay, says you. I literally helped wreck you the other day, and your arms instantly went down when we played that game.” Wilbur recalled the memory, and knew that his face was going red from the way Eret was now laughing at him.

“Yohou’re bluhuhshihing agahain.” She pointed out with a grin.

“D-Don’t get confident with me.” He stammered. He was stuttering! He was the one supposed to be doing the flustering right now! This wasn’t fair!

Whatever. He shook off the feeling of flusteredness, sliding his hands down Eret’s body, his confidence coming back when he heard her inhale sharply as his fingers glided across her hips.

“Oooh, your hips are a good spot, I’ve heard.” Wilbur said in a low tone of voice. He knew Eret always purposely lowered the tone of her voice when wrecking to make people flustered, both from first hand experience and from observation, so maybe it would work on her as well. “Eret, how would it feel if I just…ever so lightly traced my fingers around your hips?” He proceeded to do as he said, watching Eret grin and cross her arms over her chest.

“This is nothing, Wilbur! I’ve *hic* had worse than this.” She smiled at him, her confidence restoring.

“Oh? So there are spots that are worse?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow, then found himself laughing at how quickly Eret’s smile dropped. However, he still didn’t get that sweet, rosy hue across her cheeks that he was looking for. She snickered as well, giggling along with him.

“Yohou’re so sihilly, Wihilbur.” She said lazily, her slurred speech continuing to shine through.

“Silly?” Wilbur questioned, suddenly stopping the light tracing on her hips. “You know what I think is silly, Eret? How ticklish your stomach is.” He smirked, moving his hands and resting them on top of the named area, watching as Eret’s giggles started to die down.

“Your stomach…oh, man. Fundy said that you were such an adorable little mess here. He said that he scribbled all over your stomach and your sides, you just would not stop laughing and giggling! And your sides…they’re just as bad. If not, worse!” Wilbur tapped his fingers on top of Eret’s stomach, watching the other’s nervous grin grow.

“Scribbling, squeezing, poking, clawing. Anything will work here, that’s what Fundy told me. And the button! The giggle button, I like to call it. You’re just so fucking giggly whenever someone presses the button! However, I guess that’s it’s job, isn’t it?” The commander lightly tapped one hand on Eret’s side, the other having a finger trace circular motions around her belly button. “How are you feeling, Eret? Feel like blushing yet?”

“You’ll nehever break me, Wilbur. I’ll never blush! Never!” Eret spoke with firmness and assurance.

“Oh, trust me. I will break you, Eret. And I know exactly how I’ll do it.” Wilbur grinned, slowly moving his hands upwards on her body, and tapping along one final spot: her ribs.

“Now, tell me, Eret. Fundy said that this is your worst spot. You instantly lose control whenever someone scribbles and pokes and prods at your ribcage. Digging in between each rib makes you squeal, and a raspberry? Ohoho, a raspberry, just one singular raspberry, makes you scream. So, is it true? Is this your worst spot?” Wilbur asked, his voice laced with mischief.

Eret simply grinned, shaking her head. Fuck. Wilbur hated to admit it, but he would’ve been a flustered, giggling mess at this point. How had she not broken yet?! It was kind of impressive, in all honesty. There was one final chance, one last idea that Wilbur had.

“…I can tell that you’ve been giggling this whole time, and have been holding back your emotions. You really want to laugh, don’t you, Eret? Well…I’d just love to help with that.” Wilbur smirked, quickly pushing up her shirt, lowering his head down, taking a deep breath of air, and blowing the biggest raspberry he could on Eret’s stomach. She shrieked, clasping both hands over her mouth, muffled giggles spilling out.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Wilbur lifted up his head, taking advantage of what Fundy had said about the keep your arms up game, quickly shooting his hands into her underarms and scribbling at the hallows. Eret instantly drew her arms down, bubbly laughter flowing out of the young soldier’s mouth.

“AHAHAHAHA!! NOHO, WIHIHILBUHUR, QUHUIHIT IT!!!!” Eret yelled, attempting to grab his wrists and push his hands away.

“Quit? But I just started!” Wilbur said, a wide grin on his face as he moved to Eret’s hips, squeezing and pinching at the flesh. He then quickly moved to her thighs, scribbling and scratching at them, delighted when he felt Eret’s legs attempt to kick out from underneath him.

“YoHOuou- *hic!* yohohou baHAstAHARD!” Eret threw her head back, hugging herself across the chest.

“Oho, namecalling now, are we?” A cheeky grin was on Wilbur’s face as he continued to rapidly move spots, now squeezing up and down her sides. After a few moments, he dug a finger into her belly button with one hand, and spidered the fingers on his other. Eret did her best to squirm away from the touches, but anywhere that Eret leaned, Wilbur would simply skitter his fingers there to push her back into the position he wanted.

“WIHIHILBUR! ThAHaht- AHAHAHA! SHIHIHIT!” Eret tried pushing away her commander’s nimble fingers, but had no success. She then let out a noise that neither of them had expected. Wilbur paused his hands in surprise, giving Eret the time to grip onto his wrists.

“…Was that a snort?” He asked with a shit-eating grin on his face. Eret shook her head, denying the truth. “…Do it again.” Wilbur smirked, blowing another raspberry on her stomach. Eret was quick to break, her laughter the only thing that could be heard throughout the empty fields.

“CuhuHUHUT ihit ohohout!” She said before another snort escaped from her.

“I’m going to get you to blush, Eret!” Wilbur insisted, wiggling fingers across her torso.

“Thahat’s nohohot gohonna hahaHAPPEHEN- NONONONO! WAHAHAIT!!” Eret screamed with laughter, suddenly feeling Wilbur’s fingers dig in between the bones of her ribcage. She thrashed back and forth, trying to escape Wilbur’s wiggling fingers.

“Awww, is Eret a little bit ticklish on her ribs? Can she not handle it? I don’t think she can!” Wilbur smirked.

“WIHIHILBUR, PLEHEHEAHASE!!”

“Please continue? Your wish is my command!”

With that, he ducked down his head once again, a raspberry planted right onto her ribs this time. Eret screamed, throwing her head back as her laughter momentarily became silent, then came back in hysterics. She hugged her stomach, too tired to fight back, laughing with the goofiest grin that Wilbur had ever seen from her.

“Having fun?” Wilbur smirked.

“Thahahat wahahas ahawfuhul!” She refuted, now able to look at her commander directly in the eyes.

“Awful? You never told me to stop, not even once!” He commented, his eyes widening as a realization set in. “You enjoyed every second of that, didn’t you?”

And with that, Wilbur finally got what he oh-so desperately wanted. A rosy pink blush, quickly spreading across Eret’s cheeks. Both of them knew it was there, and no words needed to be exchanged. Eret groaned, placing both hands over her face to hide the new color.

“Yes! I told you I could do it!” Wilbur grinned triumphantly, finally getting off of Eret and laying next to her in the grass. He listened to her catching her breath, and saw the rosy blush still there when she removed her hands.

“And that’s what happens when you make fun of Commander Wilbur Soot! You get punished for iHIT- AAAHAHAHAH!” The commander was suddenly greeted with scribbling fingers in his armpits, shrieking loudly and trying to squirm away. “EHEHEREHET! WHAHAHAT THE FUHUHUCK?!”

“Don’t think I don’t know where your worst spots are, Wilbur!” Eret smirked, taking her revenge. “While you had to use your ways to get Fundy to tell you my spots, Tommy just told me yours, no questions asked!”

“AHAHRE YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKIHING SEHEHERIHIOHOUHUS?!” Wilbur barked out, cackling loudly.

“Very serious!” Eret grinned, moving her hands down to his sides and planting a raspberry on his neck. She lifted her head back up, stopping her fingers when she saw a bright red blush across his grinning face.

“Ohoho my gohod, I lasted so much longer than you!” Eret laughed. “What was that, thirty seconds?!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Wilbur groaned through the leftover giggles that spilled out of his mouth.

Eret laid down next to her commander, the two of them looking at each other before laughing. Neither of them were exactly sure while laughing. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was because they both got wrecked. Maybe it was the sheer stupid silliness of the situation. But what they both knew was that this would be a night to remember. That is, if the champagne would let them remember it at all.

“You look like shit.”

“Tommy!”

“What?! It’s true!”

Eret sighed, rolling her eyes at the young boy’s behavior as she entered the camarvan, closing the door behind her. The liquid mess from last night had been cleaned up, and she was feeling groggy from the events of the previous night.

“Good morning, Eret.” Wilbur greeted with a nod. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Not the best.” Eret chuckled, taking her place at the table in the middle of the van.

“You and me both, big man.” Tubbo groaned.

“Everything okay, Tubbo?” She asked, her eyebrow lifting up curiously.

“Yeah, I’m mostly fine. I just woke up with-“ Before he could finish, Tubbo paused, covering his mouth and coughing. “I just woke up with, like, a really bad cough. Out of nowhere.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Wilbur asked Tubbo, then turned directly to Eret as he spoke, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “Would you say you have a tickle in your throat?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Tubbo agreed. Wilbur didn’t focus on him, only smiling as he noticed that rosy hue on Eret’s cheeks from the night before return.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Eret? Your face is quite red~” He dragged out the last word of the sentence in a teasing tone.

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” Eret groaned, glaring at Wilbur from across the table.

He was never going to let her live this down, wasn’t he?

#dawn writes #lee!eret #ler!wilbur #c!eret #c!wilbur #dsmp tickle #they switch at one point but it’s very brief so i’m not tagging it #if eret and wilbur have a duo name someone pls tell me what it is i wanna know :0 #👑 eret: eyeless monarchy #🧨 wilbur: the bad guy

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