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megan-is-mia · 3 years

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can I request a delusional yandere #21 prompt with Vampire Vil and Rook? It can be nsfw if you want. Thank you

(You’re welcome and I hope you like this) 21. “All I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted was you.” (Yandere! Vil Schoenheit x Fem! S/o x Yandere! Rook Hunt) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD!)

(Y/n) didn't have much alone time anymore, not since she’d been made the slave of the Lord of the Night Vil Schoenheit and his second in command the Midnight’s Executioner Rook Hunt. Both men were vampires, a fact the young woman had become quite acquainted with not long after she arrived at the two males’ mansion when they’d first feasted on her as the sun set both on the day and her freedom. Luckily for her, Rook and Vil seemed rather uninterested in (Y/n)’s daytime activities and permitted her to roam the castle as long as she made herself available for feeding time at dusk. However tonight was a rare treat, the vampires would be too busy with business affairs to demand her presence and therefore the young woman had decided to spoil herself with a long shower. Usually, she had to rush to make sure she could make herself presentable for her masters, but this night she would stay in the hot water until it ran out and she would enjoy every minute of it. (Y/n) turned the water on, letting it get nice and hot before stripping out of her clothes and stepping into the warm jets of water pouring down. She hadn’t locked the door, none of the other slaves would dare interrupt her if they valued their lives.

She had to admit there were some perks to being the blood bag of Vil and Rook. One of those perks being permission to eat when she wanted, and to sleep as much as she wanted to make sure her blood was as healthy as possible for the vampires to consume. (Y/n) let her eyes shut as her head lolled back enjoying the heat of the water on her skin. All the while being in too much bliss to realize that the bathroom door had opened and two figures had slipped silently into the room with her before locking the door with supernatural power behind them as they stripped down to nothing.

The young woman stretched her arms up and behind her trying to relax the muscles only for her hands to press against something smooth and cool to the touch. (Y/n)’s eyes flew open and locked with one of the vampires she’d been hoping she wouldn't see tonight: Rook. The green-eyed male grinned down at her, enjoying how her body had gone stiff in surprise and her hands remained planted against his chest. “My how bold of you Dame d’Aeon, i wouldn't have expected a gesture so forward of you so soon” Rook said reaching up to grab the girl’s wrists and rearrange their position to his liking. The blonde took a step forward so his chest was pressed against (Y/n)’s back as he forced her to rest her hands on her breasts as he held her in an uncomfortably intimate embrace. The young woman’s head snapped forward as she broke eye contact with her captor and tried to stare at the floor before her. Only for her gaze to be forced upward by a second intruder in the form of the other vampire: Vil. “Someone told us you’d been in here sulking but I didn't expect them to be telling the truth” Vil said, his voice strangely casual for the situation at hand, as if he wasn’t standing naked before what was essentially his food. “I-i-i thought you had court matters to d-duh-deal with my Lords. I didn’t think you’d be re-re-requiring my services ton-n-night” (Y/n) stuttered out, her eyes threatening to pop out of her skull with how wide they were. Her words made both vampires go still, even more than they naturally did as creatures of the night. The bathroom was deathly silent save for the sound of the water pouring down and the young woman’s own nervous breathing. Suddenly Room burst out into raucous laughter and hugged the girl even closer so she could feel the vibrations of his mirth on her skin. “My, my you really are just full of surprises, Dame d’Aeon. To think you believed that we'd allow ourselves to get so tied up in business affairs that we’d have no time for you… Really it's so naive of you to think that way” Rook said once he’d gotten control of himself, even though the tone of his voice made it clear he needed only a little nudging before he’d start laughing once more. “And instead of trying to take advantage of that opportunity, you stayed where you were supposed to like a good girl. Such behavior should earn you a reward don’t you agree Mon Cher?” he added as he looked at Vil with a smirk that made (Y/n) shiver. “Agreed, you’ve learned a lesson that all of our previous pets failed to grasp” Vil said before taking hold of (Y/n)’s chin and holding it gently as one would hold a baby bird. There was a look in the vampire’s eyes that the young woman had never seen before, it was so similar to the one he’d made the night he’d first fed on her, a hungry almost depraved expression. Yet somehow this one was even more intense than that. The girl had been so entranced by the look in the blonde’s gorgeous violet eyes that she hadn’t noticed that he was still speaking to her or that he was leaning closer until their lips touched. The sudden contact of Vil’s chilled but silky smooth lips against her own slightly cracked yet still soft lips brought (Y/n) crashing back to reality with a yelp. She threw her head back, making Rook let out a soft grunt as her head smacked against his shoulder. The young woman’s face flushed with blood making it turn red and heated as she mumbled a confused apology to the two men who only sighed. “It seems you weren’t listening as closely as I hoped” Vil said, his expression turning disapproving. “But I can forgive your carelessness in light of the situation” he added, going in for another kiss.

This time (Y/n) was not allowed to pull away and her lips were gently pried open by Vil’s tongue as his hands came to rest on her hips and he traced nonsensical shapes on her skin. Rook amused himself by nuzzling his face into the crook of the young woman’s neck and running his fangs playfully up and down the column of her neck but not quite breaking the skin. “Since you didn’t listen the first time, I suppose I'll repeat the message for Mon Cher” the blonde said into the girl’s ear. “As reward for your obedience Dame d’Aeon, you’ll be given an experience most mortals would die for the chance at” he added with a coo.

(Y/n) could feel herself going light-headed from lack of air when Vil mercifully broke their liplock and permitted her to catch her breath even as his fingers continued dancing over her upper thighs to make patterns that made sense only to him. “Lord Schoenheit?” the young woman began hesitantly and received a hum in answer that encouraged her to continue speaking. “I don’t understand what you desire from me at this moment. I don’t know what I did wrong. Please…” she trailed off not knowing how or even what she was supposed to say to get a real answer. “Are you that thick-headed? Are you so naive to this matter?” Vil spoke sounding both disappointed and bemused. “Nevermind, that was a foolish question. I forgot that humans can be so dense even to things happening right in front of their noses” he added after a moment shaking his head and making water fly everywhere. One of the hands that had been idly moving along (Y/n)’s hips suddenly slid down between them to poke at the young woman’s nethers. On instinct, the girl tried to squeeze her thighs together and force the vampire’s hand to be still. “What an abrupt reaction, it’s almost like you were trying to put up a fight (Y/n)” Rook said surprising the young woman with the sudden usage of her name and giving his partner the opportunity he needed to wedge a leg between the girl’s knees so she couldn’t try and resist his touch again. Vil’s index finger flicked at (Y/n)’s clit and the girl’s body lurch in response at the sudden spark of pleasure and pain. The vampire did it a second time, harder now, and received another reaction from the young woman this time the movement was accompanied by a strangled moan. “Tell me (Y/n) how did that feel? Good?” Vil said with a smirk watching as the girl tried to avert her eyes even as her face became even redder with embarrassment. “There’s no point trying to lie, I’ll be able to tell if you do. So give me an answer my darling mortal~ Do you feel good?” he added with a third flick to the young woman’s sensitive clit which got a proper moan out of her that was paired with her frantically nodding to answer his question. “That’s better, I want to be able to reward you properly and I can't do that if you won’t answer my questions” the vampire crooned, trying to poke a finger into (Y/n)’s cunt. “Do you understand yet? Or do you need some more explanation before we get into the real fun of your reward Dame d’Aeon?” Rook said adjusting his grip so he could hold both of (Y/n)’s wrists in one hand and the other could be used for groping her breasts. “Or maybe you need it said aloud before you’ll get it. Ever since you arrived and became our new pet I’ve been hungry. Not only for your blood, oh no you made me ravenous for something more carnal than even that. It’s been a long time since I’ve desired the affections of someone besides Vil” he added in a low growl. “Do you have to make it sound so lewd” Vil said, his words suggesting disdain for his partner’s words but his tone had turned playful as his finger sunk into (Y/n)’s pussy and she let out a soft cry at the intrusion. “He’s telling the truth, there’s no point growing too close to one’s bloodbag. It only makes the eventual disposal that much harder to complete. Yet you, you pried your way into my mind and now it's impossible for me to be rid of you so easily” the blonde said sounding mildly annoyed as he added another finger to the one already inside the girl’s cunt and after a few moments more adding a third and fourth finger too. “You’re not making any sense, none of this makes any sense. Why are you doing this to me if you’re so attached to me? Please just stop!” (Y/n) said and then let out a squeak as Rook began laughing again. This time however she could feel something begin to grind against her backside as the vampire kept laughing at her childish naivete, and she squeezed her eyes shut trying not to think about it. The blonde did not take kindly to being ignored and he let out a low annoyed growl into the young woman’s ear before biting down on her neck and sucking her blood. The girl’s cry of pain was quickly cut off by one of pleasure as Vil’s fingers probed deeper into her cunt and pressed against a sensitive bunch of nerves that made (Y/n) see stars. The juxtaposition of Rook drinking her blood and Vil fingering her pussy was making all her senses go fuzzy as the opposing stimulations fought for dominance in her mind. Despite her best efforts to remain in control, there was nothing the young woman could do to stop her body from responding to the men’s advances and she found herself relaxing back into Rook’s grip as he continued to feed off her negating the need for Vil’s knee between hers. “Can you bend her forward for me?” Vil said, his words directed at Rook as he pulled his fingers free of (Y/n)’s cunt with a sloppy pop as her fluids clung to his digits even as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. The other vampire happily complied, retracting his fangs from the girl’s neck and removing his hands from her wrists and breast so he could force them behind her making it easier to hold them in place as she was bent overdo she looked like she was bowing in reverence. As the young woman was forced to bend, she soon came face to face with the purple-eyed man’s half-erect cock.

(Y/n) vaguely understood what she was being told to do even without the words being said. The problem was she didn’t know how to do it, having never been in a relationship long enough for this activity to come up as an option. A hand descended into her hair and entangling itself in her locks before lightly tugging to give her a warning of what might happen if she didn’t get to work. Hurriedly the young woman opened her lips and took the head of Vil’s cock into her mouth. Her technique was sloppy of course, owing in part to both inexperience and nerves. Fortunate for her then that neither of those things bothered the vampire very much. Vil let out a soft growl, using his other hand to cup (Y/n)’s cheek and stroke it lightly as she took more and more of his member into her mouth. All the while Rook continued to grind against her rear and grope at it as she obediently sucked the other blonde off. He gently pried open the girl’s thighs apart so he could nestle his cock between them and tease her overly sensitive clit some more while she focused on the task before her. (Y/n) tried to protest but her sounds were all muffled as she was forced to take more and more of Vil’s shaft. Vil tried to keep himself in control, this was supposed to be a pleasant experience for (Y/n) even if he was taking this chance to selfishly indulge a bit. He continued to stroke the girl’s cheek as his shaft disappeared further into her throat until her nose bumped against his pelvis. He used his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before pulling back a little and driving his cock back in, trying to encourage her to move her head a bit. The young woman quickly got the message and bobbed erratically on his shaft. Her movements were rewarded with stimulation from Rook who began thigh-fucking her to the same rhythm.

If it wasn’t for his years of sexual experience and his extreme self-control, the blonde might have blown his load down the girl’s throat and ruined the entire encounter. At the last moment, he released her hair and pulled himself free of her delightful throat and mouth with a grunt. The sudden loss of the purple-eyed male’s grip almost made (Y/n) fall headfirst against the shower tile. Luckily Rook had not loosened his grip on her arms and kept her quite steady as she gasped for breath. The green-eyed male helped her back into a standing position before throwing his partner an excited, hopeful look. “Is it time for the main event Mon Cher?” Rook said his tone just oozing anticipation that was reciprocated by the other vampire who nodded with a smirk. (Y/n) just looked from one man to the other still not quite understanding what was about to transpire. Rook wrapped an arm around the young woman’s waist hoisting her up so her butt was pressed against his lower abdomen. With the other, he took hold of his cock and lined it up against her dripping cunt. The light pressure of the head of the vampire’s cock forcing her pussy open was what finally made (Y/n) understand what was going on. “Nononono” (Y/n) babbled trying to wriggle free of the blonde’s grip. “I’m sorry! Please! Don’t do this to me!” she continued to beg frantically. Her purity was the last thing she could still call her own, no matter how the vampires demeaned her and treated her like a toy she could still take pride in her still being a virgin. But now they were going to take that away from her too and she was beside herself in panic even as water from the showerhead above dripped into her mouth, choking as she inhaled the water amidst her wails for mercy from the two men. “Stop resisting (Y/n), you’re acting like a child” Vil scolded, stepping forward to grip the girl’s thighs and force them still so Rook could thrust up into her without any further fuss. (Y/n) tried to keep fighting but it was no use as her insides were abruptly forced open by Rook’s cock and the vampire let out a pleased moan at how warm her cunt was. The green-eyed male’s hips bucked lazily a few times as he grew accustomed to how perfectly (Y/n)’s inner muscles squeezed his member. The young woman’s head lolled to the side as tears began to build up in them and she let out a sniffle. “Oh Ma Chérie, you should save those tears for later” Rook said sweetly, peppering (Y/n)’s neck in kisses as Vil pressed his cock against the opening of the girl’s already stuffed cunt and began sheathing himself as well. This time the young woman didn’t bother trying to fight, there was no point resisting anymore when they’d already tainted her beyond repair. Vil’s body went still as he bottomed out inside (Y/n)’s pussy, and he let out a contented sigh before pressing some kisses to the girl’s neck as well. However as he and Rook began fucking their prey in earnest, his fangs came out and he began feeding on (Y/n)’s blood. As for (Y/n) her brain had gone totally blank from the intense pleasure and pain she was experiencing at the hands of the vampires. Her eyes rolled back in her skull making it impossible for her to tell which male was pinching her nipples and groping her tits and which one was biting her and toying with her clit like a doorbell button. Her cunt was dripping non-stop turning the water going down the drain pink with the blood from her lost maiden-hood. During a moment of clarity mid-fuck she managed to ask for the reason for this punishing reward. Her mind went cloudy again before she could hear the answer and her body was forced through a series of rapid-fire orgasms, each leaving her more sensitive than ever. By the time the vampires had had their fill of her body, (Y/n) was only half-conscious as they pulled out. She was easily maneuvered by the pair who washed her properly before carrying her out of the bathroom back to their bedroom. Usually, the young woman was banned from being in this room unless she'd seriously misbehaved and needed to be disciplined for an extended period of time. Yet she was tucked into the bed as if it was the most natural thing in the world as the vampires curled themselves around her and settled in for slumber. Vil fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, however Rook remained conscious awhile longer muttering to himself. “All I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted was you” were the only words (Y/n) could piece together in her drowsy state. Was he talking about Vil? Was he talking about her? Perhaps both? The young woman didn’t have the energy to ponder this query, not when the next time she woke she’d no longer be of the living world... THE END

#Yandere Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit #Yandere Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt #Yandere Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland #Yandere TWST #TWST

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oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co · 4 years

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Once upon a time in a land far, far away there was a beautiful princess. Hated by her influential, evil younger sisters, and banished from her kingdom, she lived in constant terror. A target for ruthless assassins, surrounded by deadly traps and blood-thirsty monsters, she fought for her life. In desperation, she sought the help of a famous witcher, Geralt of Rivia.

Geralt cut down her pursuers with a few graceful swings of his sword. He swirled in the air, his fluid movements both elegant and deadly, blood spilling, screams ringing in her ears. Poisoned apples, arsenic in hot chocolate, arrows suddenly shooting from dark windows of abandoned houses, old ladies turning into gorgons, nothing seemed to faze him. Somehow, he single-handedly chased away the stormy clouds of her fears. With him protecting her, her paralyzing panic dissolved into a warm feeling of trust and safety.

Then, imperceptibly, her reliance on him turned into something more.

One day, as they were hiding in a little cottage at the edge of the forest, she looked at him sharpening his sword. His face appeared soft in the warm glow of the fireplace. She was just about to confess her feelings to him, when a loud knock on the door made her jump.

‘Who is it?’ Geralt asked, his deep, low voice resonating in the silence of the cottage.

‘You know bloody well who the fuck this is. Let me in,’ a sweet, musical voice announced from behind the door. It took him just a few seconds to lose his patience. ‘Geralt?’ He kicked the door with annoyance. ‘You can’t be serious.’

Geralt rolled his eyes and looked at the princess, apologetically. ‘That’s just my… bard. This will only take a moment,’ he said, quietly so the person behind the door wouldn’t hear.

‘Oh, just your bard, you bastard?’ the voice snapped back. ‘I have absolute pitch and can hear you clear as day. Be warned, I’ll make motherfucking sure to take all the time I need, just wait and see.’

Geralt blinked a few times and opened the door.

The princess saw a youngish-looking overdressed man, with messy brown hair, hands on his hips, and pure outrage written all over his face. He looked at Geralt, eyes narrowing, and then looked down, both hands pointing at his destroyed trousers. His knees were covered in dry mud, fabric torn in multiple places. ‘Did you not see me running behind Roach this morning?’ he asked.

‘No.’

‘Well, I ran. And I slipped. It was quite impressive.’

Geralt didn’t seem convinced. ‘You expect me to believe you didn’t change right away?’

The man flinched, annoyed. ‘I didn’t… for the sake of a dramatic entrance,’ he admitted with a huff.

‘Ah.’

‘Didn’t you see me wave when you were passing through the town?’

‘I did.’

‘And it didn’t occur to you to stop?’

‘I’m working.’

‘Sure. You’re always fucking working these days, as long as that work takes you far, far away from me.’

‘Jaskier, this is not the time.’

‘Of course it’s not, it never fucking is. It’s been weeks.’ He was furious and there was no stopping him.

‘Jaskier-’

‘I know what you’re doing, you know? It’s the oldest trick in the book. I won’t be dismissed like this. I know how this goes. It finally happens… and then the man magically disappears. Poof! I wake up to a fucking cloud of smoke.’

‘Don’t-’

Jaskier was fuming. ‘You fucking coward,’ he seethed.

Geralt stepped back, calm but the first cracks in his composure were beginning to show. ‘Could you just-’

‘No, Geralt. I can’t just, that’s the point.’ He licked his lips, and took a deep breath, attempting to calm down. ‘If I was a fucking stranger, it would be understandable, to an extent. But oh…' He laughed sadly at the thought. ‘I’m so far from a stranger, Geralt. So fucking far.’ He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and rubbed his fingers together, nervously. ‘If you had a grain of respect…’ he continued. ‘Any fucking inkling of what it feels like to be abandoned so you can go be some macho, monster-killing protector of fair maidens.’ He stared at Geralt with suspicion. ‘Are you compensating for something?’

The princess walked up to the door, a bit shaken by the situation. Geralt’s eyes passively followed her before he turned back to Jaskier. ‘I need you to leave,’ he stated simply, and Jaskier seemed hurt, eyes a bit glassy.

Jaskier inhaled sharply, ready to retort but then stopped himself. ‘You know what?’ he said, finally, voice controlled. ‘I don’t care. Stay with fucking…’

‘…Flora,’ she added, shyly.

‘Flora, thank you.’ He looked towards her for a moment and bowed his head a bit before turning back to Geralt. ‘So proper, pretty and nice. She’s…’

‘…a princess,’ she said with some pride, and Jaskier nodded in acknowledgment.

‘Impressive, Geralt, well done. I wish you both all the best. I’m sure Geralt will look extremely attractive with a crown on his head. I can already picture it... the prestige, the class, the elegance.’ Suddenly a thought hit him, and he blinked a few times. ‘Wait… the princess Flora?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your story is all the rage amongst the royals. So much compassion for your banishment.’

‘Really?’ She seemed surprised.

‘Especially in Redenia. They would take you in, no second thoughts. Prince Phillip is desperate to find you. He commissioned multiple ballads about your golden hair and charming smile, so sentimental. Valdo Marx wrote some truly abysmal stanzas about your teeth. Whoever thinks teeth is the right angle?’ Jaskier rolled his eyes.

‘Fucking teeth,’ Geralt muttered under his breath.

‘Right?’ Jaskier turned to Geralt, and both nodded in agreement for a moment.

Then Jaskier turned to her, attentive. ‘There’s no reason for you to keep running. You’re completely fine.’

‘Oh.’

‘What was I saying?’ Jaskier was distracted again. ‘Oh, I found this at the threshold.’ He held out a neatly packaged present with a fancy, silk bow. He was surprised when both Flora and Geralt moved away slightly. ‘It’s just a present, nothing scary. I know some of us have issues accepting nice things but let’s be reasonable about this.’

‘Jaskier, put that down,’ Geralt growled, instantly turning from frustrated to protective. ‘Throw it the fuck away.’

‘Now you care, don’t you?’

‘Put. It. Down.’

Jaskier shook his head, eyes set on Geralt. ‘So invested all of a sudden. Who would have imagined?’ He pulled on the bow, enjoying Geralt’s nervousness.

‘Don’t be a fucking idiot.’ Geralt launched forwards, and grabbed the box. Jaskier pulled back. It split. Something tiny and swift slipped out of the tear and ran up Jaskier’s arm. Before either of them managed to respond, the creature bit Jaskier and disappeared.

‘Fuck, Geralt,’ Jaskier squealed, not a trace of previous annoyance in his voice. He stared down in disbelief. ‘My feet! I can’t feel them! Or move them! I’m… turning into stone?’ he whined, half scared, half offended by the ridiculousness of the predicament.

‘Shit,’ Geralt hissed, frantically looking through the box. He found a letter and read it hastily. ‘Fuck,’ he summarised.

‘What?’

‘It’s one of these curses that needs true love’s kiss to be lifted.’

‘I thought these were just legends,’ he whispered, already contemplating the possibilities.

‘That’s what it says.’

‘Well, fine.’ Jaskier was in no place to argue. He could already feel his knees turning numb. ‘Just do it.’

‘What? Me? Are you joking?’

‘Well, who do you think? I’m sure this will work, relax.’ He gave it a second thought, and suddenly panicked a bit. ‘Does it say if it needs to be reciprocated?’

‘It doesn’t go into that much detail.’

‘Then just do it. I’m not asking for much, am I? I mean… if it’s going to save my life.’

Geralt reluctantly came closer. ‘Just don’t be disappointed if it does nothing,’ he growled, some actual concern in his voice.

‘Yes, sure. Just make it good. You know, in case you never do it again.’

Geralt didn’t give it a second thought.

He grabbed Jaskier and pulled him close as if he weighed nothing, tossing him around like a rag doll. Jaskier held on to him, barely managing to keep his balance, his fingers pulling on Geralt’s shirt. His eyes grew wide as he felt Geralt wrapping his hand around his waist, another supporting his spine and tipping him backwards. Suspended above the ground, he clawed at Geralt’s straining muscles, both uncomfortable and mildly impressed.

Finally, Geralt leaned towards Jaskier and went for it. Sadly, it was no more than a lingering peck, completely impersonal.

Jaskier whacked Geralt’s shoulder a few times, frustrated.

Geralt smiled snidely in response, still not breaking away but keeping his lips pressed together, and the kiss shallow. The moment Jaskier accepted his fate, Geralt deepened it, perhaps too much, surprising him.

Jaskier grunted with disapproval but then, as Geralt turned from playful to passionate, he instantly eased into it, melting into Geralt’s arms, his displeased moans transforming into a satisfied rumble at the back of his throat.

This somehow encouraged Geralt who became surprisingly involved, and then quickly pulled away, shocked by things turning so genuine.

Jaskier was having none of that. He pulled Geralt back and returned the kiss in earnest, clinging on to him with iron determination.

Flora stared, startled, somehow more petrified than Jaskier. She cleared her throat to attract their attention but they ignored her. They were approaching the task with full dedication which had little to do with any princesses or even curses. After a while, they slowed down, both panting, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, faces flushed, hearts racing.

Geralt looked at Jaskier. The image turned borderline hazy and he was surprised by a sudden influx of strong emotions, which he was afraid to give a name to. The most ridiculous, sentimental thoughts passed through his head, and he flinched. ‘Fuck.’ Not again. He blinked a few times but the feeling was not going away.

Then he stared down at Jaskier’s feet. When he looked back up, Geralt appeared as if he fell head first into a dark void. Even his hair was messy as if shaken the moment he hit the rock bottom. ‘Jaskier, fucking shit. Oh, gods.’

Jaskier froze, terrified. Although his legs felt normal now, it could have been an illusion. He spent a few seconds imagining his own slow and painful demise. ‘What?’ he asked, finally, afraid to look down. ‘Did it fail? Am I getting worse?’

‘No. Fuck, no. It worked like a dream.’

‘Oh.’ Jaskier lit up, feeling relieved and finally breathing easy, but then processed Geralt’s response. ‘Oh.’

‘This can’t be true,’ Geralt growled with disbelief.

Jaskier was insulted but also a bit compassionate. Confronting his feelings was such a struggle for Geralt every single time. ‘Facts are facts,’ he shrugged, aiming for casual but his smugness was undeniable. ‘Things could have been much worse, though, right?’

‘Could they?’ Geralt didn’t seem convinced.

‘I’m going to go on a limb here and assume you didn’t really want me to turn into a statue. Am I right, Geralt? You don’t want your best friend in the whole wide world to die, correct?’

Geralt just grunted in response but didn’t seem entirely sure.

Jaskier tossed back his hair, some repressed anger in the movement, but remained undeterred. ‘It was a bit much, let’s admit, such an all or nothing situation, but…’ he was failing to hide his excitement. ‘I mean… At least this brings us some clarity, some much needed clarity, considering, well…’

‘Shut up, Jaskier. Just-’

‘There’s no shame in having some feelings, especially positive ones.’ Jaskier smiled encouragingly but his expression faded as he met Geralt’s vacant eyes.

Geralt massaged his temples with a groan. ‘Maybe this doesn’t really mean anything?’ he asked, trace amounts of hope in his voice.

‘Eeeeh…’ Jaskier was not quite sure how to respond and let out an uncomfortable laugh instead.

When he stopped, the silence was deafening.

‘We could…’ Jaskier started but was unable to continue because this beginning alone made Geralt appear scared for a lack of a better word. ‘No, I don’t mean, ehm.’ He hesitated. ‘I just mean we could ignore the curse and just trust our guts. You know… Was that good for you by any chance? Not to be presumptuous but I had a strong feeling…’

Geralt’s eyes somehow managed to become even more distant. Jaskier swallowed, loudly.

‘This was not what it seemed,’ Geralt announced, angrily.

‘Right, yes, fine, of course. No, sure, I understand. That’s clear too, see?’ Jaskier blabbered on, sweating slightly. ‘We’re doing so well. Clarity all round. So much… clarity.’ His eyes grew wider and he sighed. ‘I might, just… I don’t know. Kill myself now, maybe?’

‘That would defeat the purpose.’

‘Well, yes, it would, wouldn’t it?’ Jaskier nodded eagerly. ‘In that case I can’t, surely. Who would want that kind of sacrifice to go to waste? I have to live so bloody long now, just to compensate… No death for me.’ He shook his head. ‘Killing monsters is one thing but this, I mean, oh boy. Maybe I should…’ he chuckled, unable to stop himself ‘…pay you.’

Geralt laughed despite himself and some of the tension dissolved into the air.

‘Great,’ Jaskier sighed, relieved. ‘We have an answer now. We’re so… great.’ His awkwardness turned into intense sadness all of a sudden, eyes watering slightly.

‘Jaskier?’

‘What?’

‘Don’t… start this again. We’re upsetting her.’

Jaskier stared at Flora for a second as if he was surprised by her very existence. ‘How the fuck is she more important than me? She’s a bloody stranger.’ He turned to her, apologetic. ‘With all due respect, but it is what it is.’

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but he already turned away from her, upset and focused on Geralt.

‘Could you please acknowledge that something actually happened here? Can you? Can we finally moved pass this fucking… repressive nonsense of yours, and stop tiptoeing around the issue?’

They both turned towards the door for a second, hearing it close behind Flora.

Geralt shook his head and turned back to Jaskier. His eyes softened a bit, and he groaned quietly, annoyed with himself. ‘You will never give up on this, right?’

‘Right,’ Jaskier proclaimed with pride, his chest puffed slightly.

‘Fine,’ he said with a sigh.

Jaskier stared at him in total disbelief. ‘Really?’ he asked, his voice overflowing with anticipation and hope.

Geralt just grunted in agreement, and shrugged his shoulders.

And they lived happily ever after.

*********************************************************************************

Dedicated to @lovelyrita1967 ❤️

Published on OA3 as The Lonely Princess.

Thanks to @booichiboo @ohmybgosh

@variousnoises @valdomarx @ro-the-bard-writer @carmillacarmine @thelastsock @ikeptupwiththejoneses @purpleonionofsex @katesierra @jaskierswolf @geraskierficrecs @ficrecs4me123

#geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fic #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fic #geralt x jaskier #geralt x dandelion #gerlion #the witcher and the bard #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geralt #geralt of rivia #fairy tales #happy ending

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handwrittenhello · 3 years

Text

where the road then takes me

Prompt: Law of Surprise Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier/Renfri, Geralt/Renfri, Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier & Renfri Rating: T Warnings: None Summary: When Jaskier runs into a pack of wild dogs while searching for his lost hen, he's lucky that Geralt is nearby to save him. But he has nothing to repay the witcher with except the Law of Surprise, and who do they find upon returning to the farm, but Jaskier's sister, Renfri, back early from marauding?

For @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo!

(ao3 link in reblog)

Jaskier, eighteen, had grand dreams.

They were little more than dreams, unfortunately, because seeing as how he and Renfri had grown up fending for themselves, stuck in a tiny village on the border of Creyden, he didn’t have much opportunity to go to school or learn to play the lute or anything, really, besides tending to the farm while Renfri got… freelance work elsewhere. That was all he cared to know about it—she would leave, and return home every couple of weeks with a decent bag of coin and blood-spattered clothes, which Jaskier would bitch about cleaning. She made enough for them to live, though not comfortably—Renfri had kept him fairly sheltered, but he knew that they were one of the poorer households in town.

Which was why Jaskier only dreamed of traveling the Continent, singing songs and weaving grand tales for the commonfolk. Instead, he was stuck here chasing down their old hen again, after the coop had blown down in the storm for the fourth time. Henrietta was a sneaky fucker, already gone by the time he woke up in the morning. He cursed but pulled on his boots and stumbled out into the cold morning air to look for her.

He cursed all the way to the edge of the forest, where she’d apparently disappeared into, judging by the tracks and the few scattered feathers he found. “Damned hen. Ought to just eat you and be done with it,” he muttered, pulling his cloak tighter around him before heading into the forest.

He followed her trail as the sun slowly rose, stopping when he heard barking in the distance. Fuck, he hoped that was the hunters’ dogs—he hadn’t thought to bring a knife to defend himself with. Whatever it was, he trudged onwards, because they couldn’t afford to lose a hen. Renfri would kill him if—when—she found out.

And then he heard it—familiar squawking, accompanied by those same barks, louder. He crept closer and saw exactly what he’d feared—a pack of wild dogs circled Henrietta, one of them darting in every so often to snap at her slashing claws. She was fending them off pretty handily, actually—Jaskier knew how vicious she could be firsthand.

But the dogs would no doubt attack in force soon, and then she’d have no chance. Without thinking, Jaskier picked up a rock and threw it at the nearest one, hitting it square in the nose. It recoiled and turned its attention away from Henrietta, which was exactly what he wanted.

Unfortunately, it turned its attention towards him, which was exactly what he didn’t want. “Oh, fuck,” he spat, and turned tail as the pack gave chase.

He dashed over tree roots and fallen logs, blind stupid terror coursing through his veins. He had no plan beyond don’t get caught—and he could only run for so long before tiring. He threw a glance backward and saw that they were gaining on him—and fast.

Not looking where was going, he was taken completely by surprise when he slammed into something hard, bouncing off it and landing with an oof on the mossy ground.

Dazed and still half-blind with fear, he didn’t even notice that he’d slammed into a person until they moved, stepping over him and taking on the dogs with an easy confidence, sword swinging with preternatural force.

Two swords, armor, incredible speed and fighting skills? As the man finished dispatching the last of the pack and turned around to reveal mutated cat eyes set in a heavily scarred face, Jaskier realized who the man was. He sucked in a sharp breath.

The witcher sheathed his sword, holding out a hand as if to calm Jaskier. “It’s alright,” he rumbled, voice full of gravel. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Jaskier picked his jaw up from where it had dropped. “I know that,” he answered, getting to his feet and half-heartedly brushing the dirt off himself. “You’re a witcher.”

“I am. Usually fight more dangerous things than wild dogs, though. Also don’t usually see unaccompanied kids running around being chased by them.”

“I had to get their attention somehow. Henrietta was—wait, Henrietta!” Jaskier, remembered, abruptly spinning on his heel and dashing back to where the pack had cornered her.

“Wait!” the witcher called from behind him, but Jaskier paid him no heed.

He was gratified to see that while he’d been running for his life, Henrietta had seen fit to begin making herself a nest right in the same spot. “Oh, aren’t we cozy?” he grumbled, creeping closer in an attempt to grab her. He was almost upon her when the witcher ruined it, crashing through the underbrush behind him and sending her clucking away just as Jaskier pounced.

Jaskier sighed and turned to face the witcher, who at least had the good grace to look a little guilty. The guilt soon disappeared, though, when Jaskier rounded on him and began to lecture. “Now look what you’ve done. It’ll take me ages to catch her,” he complained, watching as the witcher’s eyes grew incredulous.

“You risked your life for that scrawny thing?” the witcher asked, amused disbelief coloring his tone.

“That scrawny thing is probably the most valuable thing we own, so yes,” Jaskier snapped. He couldn’t stand it when out-of-towners looked at him like that, like he was a stupid farm boy who knew little more than dirt and chickens. Which, to be fair, he didn’t, but it wasn’t as if he wanted it that way.

The witcher’s face cleared to something more akin to understanding—thank the gods it wasn’t pity. “Then I suppose I owe it to you to help catch her,” he said, and in the blink of an eye he’d snatched Henrietta up. Jaskier accepted her into his arms somewhat stunned.

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to stammer. The witcher said nothing in return, and they stood there for a long, awkward moment, before Jaskier realized he was probably waiting for something. “Oh! I don’t—I don’t have anything to pay you with…” he trailed off, recalling all the old adages, that witchers never worked for free. Fuck. Renfri wouldn’t be home for days if not weeks still, and the only coin he had he needed to save for the market day after tomorrow.

The witcher began to speak—what it was he was going to say, Jaskier didn’t know, but he interrupted as an idea struck him. “But I can offer you the Law of Surprise!” he suggested, recalling the ballads of children promised to witchmen. “We’ve a bitch due for pups soon—perhaps we’ll return home and you’ll find yourself with a companion to warm the long nights on the road!”

“Hmm,” the witcher replied, but it wasn’t a no, so he figured that it probably meant he wasn’t about to be forced into the witcher’s debt. Humming, he led the way back to the farmstead, the witcher a silent, hulking protector at his back.

Once they arrived, Jaskier was quick to secure Henrietta in the barn, where normally there would be pigs, but now, after sickness had taken their only sow, there was only dust and hay and the occasional mouse. He left Henrietta to her mouse hunting and led the witcher to the cottage, throwing open the door, excited to see what surprise he might find.

“Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought a witcher home?” asked Renfri, perched on the table and cleaning underneath her fingernails with one of her many knives.

Jaskier paled. “Renfri! You’re—you’re not meant to be home yet,” he choked out.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” she drawled, eyebrows knitting together. Jaskier, helpless, threw a glance back at the witcher, who was wearing a thunderous expression. Shit.

“I—not in this case, no,” Jaskier said tersely. “Fuck.”

“Some welcome,” she said faux-calmly, hopping down off the table. Jaskier recognized the tenseness in her form that spoke of a predator preparing to pounce. Sure enough, she lunged a moment later, her knife held a half-inch away from the witcher’s throat. Jaskier yelped. “Did he hurt you, Julek?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the witcher’s face.

“No, nothing of the sort, now put that down,” Jaskier hissed, tugging ineffectually at her arm. “He saved me, in fact, and…”

“And?” Renfri asked lowly.

“…and I may have promised him the Law of Surprise in return,” Jaskier finished all in a rush, wincing. “I swear, Ren, if I’d known…”

“That’s the thing about surprises,” the witcher interjected. “But you needn’t worry. I have no plans to claim your—sister?” Jaskier nodded. “As I said before, I need no payment.”

Renfri lowered her knife, and Jaskier breathed a bit easier for it. Renfri was a formidable fighter, but Jaskier doubted even her strength against a witcher. If a fight had broken out, he’d have had to—well, not help, because he was rather useless in a fight, but it was the principle of the matter.

“I suppose I could do worse for myself,” Renfri mused, looking Geralt over critically.

“Wait you’re—Renfri, he said he wouldn’t claim you, you don’t have to.”

“And what if I want to?” Renfri answered. “He seems a decent sort. And not too hard on the eyes, either.”

The witcher, looking uncomfortable, stood there and said nothing.

Jaskier threw his hands up. “You’re insane. And you!” he said, turning to the witcher. “Are you agreeing to this?”

“The life of a witcher isn’t well suited to… companionship,” the witcher replied, face twisted. “Walking the Path is difficult.”

“And if I promise that I can handle myself?” Renfri asked, twirling her knife in one of the many tricks she was proud of. “I’m no stranger to the road. It’s Jaskier you’d have to watch out for.”

“I resent that,” Jaskier said mildly, mostly out of principle. But the prospect was too exciting to dwell on it for long—was Renfri truly proposing that they set out with a witcher? “Ren, do you mean it?”

“If your witcher is fine with it, then I don’t see why not,” she replied. “What do you say, witcher?”

“Geralt,” the witcher corrected her. “If we’re to travel together, you ought to at least know my name.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeated. It rolled off the tongue wonderfully. “Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to write so many songs, just wait,” he gushed. “The Witcher and the Shrike—I can hear it now.”

Renfri pulled him out of his thoughts with a cuff to the shoulder. “Ow,” he said mildly. “Wait—you are planning on sharing, right?” he interjected. “Because, I mean, look at him.”

“Am I a toy to be shared among siblings?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that a no, you don’t want to sleep with both of us? Because I’ll respect that, I will, but also, not to objectify you or whatever, but dear gods please, I think my poor heart might break if I didn’t get to fuck you at least once.”

“Jaskier! Leave my Husband Surprise alone,” Renfri said, shoving him away. “Go get packed. Essentials only!”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Jaskier placated, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t get up to anything while I’m gone, you lovebirds.”

As he left, Geralt turned to Renfri. “Is he always like this?”

“Yeah, he’s chronically stupid. Gets it from our father.”

“Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Don’t know, but it’s too late now. You’re stuck with us, witcher,” Renfri replied, looping an arm around Geralt’s.

Geralt made a show of sighing, but in truth, he wasn’t annoyed as all that. At least it would make life more interesting.

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt/renfri #geralt/jaskier/renfri #geralt/jaskier #witcher rarepair summer bingo #wrsb #geralt #renfri #jaskier

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ironhoshi · 3 years

Note

For the prompt list: 4: “….Did you just sniff me?” ;)

Why, why yes I can!!! I have to say I decided to try something totally different and I hope you enjoy what I came up with XD

Please enjoy some more barely an adult Cal shenanigans and the appearance of a barely adult Mandalorion~!

☆○☆○☆

The warm sunlight eased some of the aches his limbs were currently suffering. Jumping from such a high height had not exactly been the wisest idea, but at the time it had seemed the right call. Cal was now content to just not move from his current spot amongst the tall grass. The breeze smelled citrusy, relaxing even. BD trilled next to him before chasing after some sort of flying bug to scan.

He wasn’t worried.

They had stopped running from the latest group of people that wanted his head. Things were just calm.

“Kid,” the comms crackled. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Greez. Just taking a moment.”

He got a grunt in response before the comm made the cracking noise of disconnecting. Well, that should give him at least an hour before anyone else checked up on him. If Merrin got extremely worried she would just leave the ship to find him; which wouldn’t be the end of the galaxy. She’d probably like to see the flora since it was so different than that of her homeworld. A faint half-smile settled on his lips while he let his eyes flutter shut. It was a rarity that he just had a moment to relax.

He must have mildly dozed off because a sudden noise had him jerking into awareness. BD was sitting on his chest, staring determinedly off into the distance.

“What is it,” he whispered.

::Bounty hunter, I think.:: BD followed his remark up with a disparaging remark about bounty hunters. Yeah, Cal got it, he was not a fan of them either. Now the question was whether or not this was a bounty hunter that wanted to collect on him. A hand shifted towards the lightsaber hilt now trapped between his back and the ground.

His brows furrowed in mild confusion when he didn’t sense malice or anything similar. That was a new one. The crew would probably scold him later, but he gave in to his curiosity. A move that tended to end badly, but he just couldn’t help himself. Cal moved silently into a crouched position and waited. His heart began to race just slightly and then suddenly-

CRASH.

The sound made his own body spasm in sympathy. Someone was going to be hurting! Sure enough, he was proven right a mere moment later. Eyes widened as a pile of armor landed right in front of him. A loud roar let him know that it had been a rather large beast that had deposited the bounty hunter at his feet. BD whistled, debating if they should run or not.

“Well-”

The sound of pain that left the pile of armor had him pausing.

::We can pretend we saw nothing?::

Cal snorted and then made a call that would have Merrin scolding him later. He moved. Arms went under the shoulders of the armor and then he was hoisting the person up just enough. The roaring was growing louder. He blanched and began to shuffle backward, towards the safety of some large trees. His teeth sank into his lower lip while he split his concentration between dragging the bounty hunter to safety and also making a crashing sound elsewhere with the Force. The second bit seemed to work because the next moment he was sensing the creature changing direction.

Well, that was one obstacle down.

A heel caught on an exposed root and then he was falling. All the air escaped him at once. There was a heavy body on top of him now.

“Ow,” he wheezed.

BD chortled.

Somehow, and surprisingly without adding too many bruises to himself, he managed to free himself from under the person he saved. Once that was done he went about setting up a sort of makeshift camp. The low fire added some nice warmth under the chilly shade of the trees, but now he was stuck with a dilemma.

Was the person injured?

Taking the armor off seemed rude.

::There hasn’t been noise in a while, might be dead. That saves us a stim for when you hurt yourself again.”

Cal shot a faint glare at his friend. That was accurate but rude. It wasn’t like he set out to get in all those fights, it just sort of happened.

“Let me just-” He crouched down next to the unmoving pile of armor and pressed a hand against the other’s side. There was a faint sensation of breathing. Okay, so not dead. That and he could still sense a life signature. He pulled his gloved hand back and blinked. Ew, why was it slimy? Wait, was the armor not supposed to be that glistening? Cal leaned closer and sniffed.

Oh, oh, okay. The poor person had totally fallen into a pile of something-

“….Did you just sniff me?” The voice was modulated and unimpressed.

“In my defense,” Cal snapped out defensively as a means to hide his surprise. “You need a sonic or a dunk in a lake!”

“...who are you?”

“Name’s Cal. I saved you. Sort of. Just to be clear, you aren’t with Haxion Brood, right?” BD let out a sound akin to a sigh. Yeah, he should have probably thought of that first, but it was too late for that. Silence, but he could see the way the helmet shifted just a bit to fix him with a look. He held his hands up in a defensive manner. “No offense?”

There was more silence and then the person was slowly shifting into a seated position. The moves were jerky, but they didn’t exactly vocalize the discomfort.

“No.”

Ah, a person of few words.

::Even the other armor person talks more-::

“BD,” Cal sighed out. “We talked about this-”

::I never agreed.::

A tiny snort raced past his ears. Wait, was that a laugh? Cal blinked and focused on the bounty hunter again.

“So, did you need some medical treatment or was that just like for fun- the flying trip thanks to rampaging creature?”

A long pause and then a faint shrug. “I’ve had worse.”

::They sound like you.:: Both of them focused on BD. ::We are going to need to find more stims at this rate.::

“Now hang on a second-”

::You keep picking up strays.::

#prompt #prompts #cal kestis #din djarin #the mandalorian #bd1 #jfo #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #just seemed like a good idea

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daydreamer-bby · 2 years

Text

🌱 Spring Equinox⚘

We're all celebrating and observing different things in different ways right now. I hope whoever reads this has a rejuvenating Spring equinox and that the coming season holds many blessings for you. On behalf of my mother's ancestors, feliz Pawkar Raymi! From my father's, happy Ostara! 🥂🌬🕯💐🐇🥚💕

How gorgeous is that gif 👆 holy shit lol

For this year's vernal equinox + final full moon together my coven had a humble gathering. My sister and I did our best to lead together instead of the usual turn taking we've grown accustomed to over the years. She makes me so proud. Her purifying bonfire ritual was slow and rich with the intent and focus she coaxed from our circle. The full moon's glow was gorgeous from my other sister's backyard and the sea air was perfectly briney. Lol we listened to songs from my "Spirichill" playlist while she conducted the ritual and I felt relieved that she and our group appreciated the sounds of pan flutes and such as much as I'd hoped they would. Oh my God and the smells were everything. Incense evocative of the moon, palo santo, beeswax, rosemary, etc. and an herbal smoke blend she made of sativa, lavender, rose petals (which she sweetly saved from some batches I dried myself idek how long ago). Amazing.

When the time came to make our way down the road to the beach to cast our offerings into the ocean we were all starving because it was so late. We'd snacked earlier that evening but time goes by so quickly around the fire. We weren't by the water too long but the tide was at its highest and each wave crashing onto the rocks misted us. It was so refreshing. The soft booming of the water was like a chorus of gentle drums.

Idk why but it feels mildly inappropriate to share the deities we were working with (white shame probably idk). It feels like namedropping somehow lol. Essentially, we were engaging three deities: Viracocha, Pachamama, Mama Killa. It's probably not super important for me to be that specific but one element of our sacrifices to Viracocha was the symbol of Pachamama. The eggs we yeeted into the sea were decorated with her simple spiral symbol on top and belted with a circle. I anointed them with a complex rosemary based brew. More lively, earthy and green aromas. Very lovely and it lingered on our hands after, I woke up to the smell of it still on me the next morning.

I chose eggs as a symbolic sacrifice because SPRING. It's obvious, had to. I can't remember exactly what I said that night to my circle but I did my best to describe the symbolism of the egg's parts. The fatty yolk for nourishment during this time of rebirth, transference of energy from parents to their children (especially from mothers to babies but I didn't want to exclude the males from their roles by overemphasizing). The albumen that provides the essential components of what allows us to grow strong and muscular in a world dominated by competition, predation and prowess. And finally the shell, keeping us safe and fortified like bones, which ultimately become our legacy upon death. We begin as small, fragile beings but grow up to honor our births by blooming almost as plants do from seeds.

We gave our thanks and made our pleas for blessings and guidance before leaving the beach. When we made it back to the house a few minutes later we enjoyed a late meal together and parted ways. Everyone was tired but peaceful. It felt bittersweet. Many of the wishes we'd asked of our gods were for me and my husband since we're going through a huge transition and a long journey. It was very moving and warming to hear my loved ones hold us in their thoughts and hearts. Leaving is going to be sooo fucking painful. If I think on it too much I forget to breathe. I don't think I can even begin to prepare for the levels of loneliness and isolation ahead of me. Perhaps those feelings will be held at bay by the powers that be. If it gets too bad I'll have to come home to visit. With the support of my loved ones though, it might not be unbearable for me to steel myself and grow from all the new experiences and feelings ahead of me.

#spring #equinox #ostara #pawkar raymi #aries season #spirituality #witchcraft #celebration #nature #pachamama #witches of tumblr #witchblr #family #personal

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evakuality · 3 years

Note

Holiday prompt request thing. What about a little davenzi mistletoe fic?

Like either an enemies to lovers kiss under the mistletoe, which David initiates.

Or a friends to lovers mistletoe kiss? Which David initiates in the end.

Just something mistletoey! 😊

Ah, anon. Here you go. It’s not quite as mistletoey as I originally thought of because it was post-season when I wrote it. But it does involve mistletoe, and David is the one to make the move so I hope it works for you! I can’t do enemies to lovers to save myself, so this is an attempt at friends to lovers. Kind of. If you squint.

All about the mistletoe

They’re cleaning up the flatshare just after New Year, which strikes Matteo as a completely ridiculous time to do it, but Mia has returned from Madrid again and taken up residence in their lives and in her old room. Unfortunately, she also brought back a penchant for everything to be perfect and perfectly in its place. Hans picked the idea up with a delighted cry that they should have a party now everyone’s back again and since the flat will be beautifully spick and span.

So Matteo now finds himself up on various chairs and forced to wipe down every single door frame in the place. That wouldn’t be a problem, usually. Matteo’s perfectly willing to help out if someone gives him directions and a job to do. Even if he thinks cleaning on top of the door is going a little too far, he’ll do it to make Mia happy.

No, what makes this particular little escapade mildly unbearable is the fact that Linn had surprisingly agreed with Mia and so she and her girlfriend are here. Which means that for some reason the universe has decided to play a joke on Matteo. Because Laura has brought her brother. And that’s the problem. Because David is the most attractive person Matteo has ever laid eyes on, and he always becomes a flustered mess whenever he’s nearby.

So of course, Hans decided that the two of them should work together, because, “you’re the same age and have so much in common, my little butterfly,” and that was that. Matteo swipes angrily at the painted door frame as he thinks about it. He’s almost certain that Hans puts them together like this because he enjoys seeing Matteo flustered and squirming. Matteo’s painfully aware that he blushes and mutters his way through every encounter with an attractive guy in a way that’s never subtle. And with David it’s worse, because David is funny and charming along with being so damn hot Matteo can’t focus when he’s near. David is the whole package, and Matteo may have pictured them as boyfriends in some of his wildest dreams.

Matteo’s reasonably sure that Hans doesn’t know the depth of his interest in David, but he does have an unfortunate tendency to throw Matteo into the path of gorgeous guys because he thinks exposure to them will help Matteo get over being a stuttery mess. The upshot is that David is humming cheerfully as he cleans the lower half of the door, far too near to Matteo for his comfort. His voice is soft and melodic and Matteo keeps being drawn away from his own work to glance downwards.

The light from the window streams in and glints off David’s hair, burnishing the dark curls with soft highlights. David looks up at Matteo and his face splits into a devastating grin, the movement highlighting the piercing that may have starred in a couple of Matteo’s fantasies. He swallows, and drags his eyes away, overwhelmed by the way David looks.

To cover for his confused embarrassment, Matteo rubs vigorously at the top of the door. It dislodges something brittle, and a soft woody smell hits him just as a small bundle slips off top of the frame and swings down in front of his face. Matteo curses, startled, and would have slipped backwards off the chair he’s on if it wasn’t for David’s firm hands warm on the back of his legs. It’s distracting enough that Matteo forgets to move away, so those fingers linger for a few moments.

Eventually, he recalls himself and squints up at the object that has swung down into his face.

“Mistletoe,” David says, nodding at the small bundle of dried and cracked leaves and berries as if in emphasis. Matteo tugs on it, hoping it’s pinned in weakly enough to dislodge completely.

Matteo grimaces and steps down off the chair, knowing he’s going to have to get some sort of tool to pry the thing out of the frame. From experience, Matteo knows Hans hammers these bundles in firmly, and they’re tricky to get out, so it was a vain hope that he’d be able to just pull it down.

“There’s a tradition associated with mistletoe,” David says, and Matteo is once again startled as he finds himself inches away from David when he spins at the words. They’re so close that he can smell the subtle cologne David favours, earthy and fresh, and he can see every one of his lashes fanned out against his skin as he blinks.

Sucking in a breath, Matteo manages a shaky laugh, trying to act like he’s not affected by what could easily be a joke. “I’m not sure it counts if it’s all dried up and flaking apart,” he retorts.

David’s smile slips for a moment before he shrugs and tilts his head to examine Matteo, and whatever he sees on Matteo’s face makes that smile slip back into place. “I think it can count if the people want it to.”

There’s a look in his eyes now, one Matteo has occasionally thought meant something when they’ve been together in the past, but always dismissed as wishful thinking. But here, with David so close that his breath whispers over Matteo’s cheek, and with his voice so warm and filled with something, Matteo thinks he might not have imagined it previously.

“Do the people want it to be?” he whispers, his voice hoarse as his heart hammers in his chest. He can’t quite believe that all the things he’s wished for every time he and David have been together might be coming true. He’s not willing to give in to it until he knows for sure.

Keeping his eyes on Matteo, David nods. “Yeah,” he says, “I think they do.”

He reaches out and cups Matteo’s cheek with his hand, fingers roughened by the work he’s been doing. It’s that feeling that brings home to Matteo that this is real and happening. In none of his dreams had he ever imagined something as real as calloused fingers.

His eyes close as he’s overwhelmed by the moment. But he reaches up, allows his fingers to touch David’s. The mistletoe is dry and broken above their heads, twisted unnaturally into an awkward shape because it’s been wedged on top of the door for so long it’s dried misshapen. It should, perhaps, be a warning to think about the fleeting nature of these connections. That even things that are filled with promise can wither and die. Mistletoe has a certain mystique; it serves a purpose in bringing people together, but this is a warning maybe that what it provides can’t last.

David seems to sense something of that thought because his hand slips behind Matteo’s head and draws him closer.

“I want it,” he says. “I think you do too. Regardless of mistletoe, I want it. Do you?”

He waits there for a moment, allowing Matteo the space to accept the offer. Matteo glances up at the small bundle above them. The jaunty ribbon tying it together is still perfect, glistening with gold thread as it slowly turns in the air. The mistletoe may be dead, it says, but it fulfilled its role. Everything grows and changes, one’s purpose is filled and another takes its place. And however fleeting, the mistletoe held beauty, promise, love, laughter in its leaves. And that’s what really matters. To have a full life, making the most of a short time on the planet. Mistletoe can’t tell him what he wants or what he should do, Matteo realises. He has to do that. He has to take the leap and fulfill his own promise.

Matteo looks back at David. His heart is still hammering and he and he still feels flustered. But there’s something in David’s eyes that says he feels all that too and his heart, when Matteo puts a hand on his chest, is beating just as fast and erratically. As if he too knows this isn’t about mistletoe at all. Somehow that gives him the courage to nod his agreement, and whisper, “yeah I do.”

David pulls him in then, and as their lips connect, Matteo forgets everything else. None of the rest of it is important. He pulls David in closer, deepens the kiss. For however long he has it, he thinks this is worth it. The mistletoe, misshapen and twisted, fulfills its promise once again, swinging silently above them as their lips meet over and over in an ongoing promise.

#og druck #davenzi #my fic stuff #my prompt stuff #sadly Ao3 is down at the moment #otherwise I'd post there and link here #but in the meantime #here have the whole thing

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 4 years

Text

BACK TO YOU (CHAPTER VIII)

Summary: Y/N Stark and Peter Parker are unconditionally and irrevocably in love with each other, being friends for years was just the step before making it official. BUT, just the weekend they did, Thanos and the snap happened, leaving Y/N broken: without friends, avengers family or Peter Parker. So, she has to move on, at least that’s what everyone’s telling her and she really tries to do it and who better to help her than Harry Osborn. But, has she really let Peter go? What if Tony Stark -genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist- knows how to bring Peter back? And what happens when he does? Is Y/N going to avenge again? Who’s going to lead the avengers now? Who is she going to choose? Harry or Peter? and who the hell is mysterio? *He doesn’t even go here

word count: 14k (sooooo long, i’m so sorry)

author’s note: It has been a while but I love this chapter so much and i’m so happyyyy how it turned out. It took a while but this helped me so much for my mood the past few weeks. My birthday wasn’t nice so ugh okay, this helped me.

SERIES MASTERLIST

“So, are we not going to talk about this Mysterio guy?”, Harley asked as you watched the combat between Lila and Cassie.

It had been over a week from the attack and you had met with Mysterio and Fury a few of times, basically him explaining ways to attack the probable new appearances of an Elemental; apparently you were still missing two.

Peter and Quentin had been hitting it off just fine, a possible mentorship blossoming by the way Quentin placed his hand on Peter’s shoulders, patting him as if he was a puppy when Peter said anything mildly right. While you, you remained quiet a lot of the time, intervening when you thought it was necessary, trying to work with Beck -which now had been named Mysterio, making you want to gag at the sound of it- who didn’t seemed to like you either.

Instead for Peter, it had been a breath of fresh air.

Quentin Beck seemed like a Tony-like-figure for him, he was as enthusiast as Tony was with Peter once he had warmed up to him, but it seemed to be easier with Beck. He had a similar personality to Tony’s, a suave-like mood that could make you believe in yourself just by him saying it.

The only thing that was different from Tony, was the underlying twitchy and unstable look on his blue electric eyes. Peter imagined it could be because of the trauma of his planet being destroyed by the Elementals, he felt kind of bad for him and somehow related to. Peter knew that, although he had gotten a bit better since you guys came back to speaking terms, he still was struggling with his anxiety and the nightmares from the snap. And now you, who could usually ground him with your hands on his curls, your laugh or by simply holding his hand, didn’t do it anymore.

“What about him?” Peter asked as his gaze was still focused on Lila and Cassie, realizing that Lila clearly had the upper hand.

You didn’t really answer to Peter or Harley, simply glaring at Harley as you turned back and focused on the combat that would be over soon, you realized as Cassie’s back hit the mat.

It had been a long weekend of training with the new recruits, Sam and Bucky were the ones that would be usually directing these trainings but since they were on a mission in Europe, it fell on your hands, with the help of Wanda and Peter backing you up.

Wanda was excited by the prospect of being a teacher but you had asked her to just be a bit down since he usually trained with the hardcore ones that were Nat and Steve or Bucky, because of the advantage of magic. She huffed at your request but she was still useful as she helped Harley learned the basics, while you later helped him with some of the new suit’s tricks. Peter, although you hadn’t talked a bunch, was really helping you with Cassie and Lila, mostly Lila who already had experience thanks to Clint.

Nonetheless, it was still nerve-wracking thinking that you were responsible for this new generation of Avengers and if they didn’t really learn everything that you could teach them, they could be in great danger.

“I win!”, Lila screamed as she breathed heavily with a smirk on her face, shouting a victory cry while Cassie rolled his eyes and lay down in the mat.

You smiled lightly and walked over to Cassie, helping her stand up as Lila was still gloating on her victory. Lila and Cassie reminded you a bit of Peter and you when you would train together, always riling each other up but at the end still enjoying the other’s company. These were the trainings where you began learning how to be in sync with each other.

“It’s not fair! You have been trained by spies since you were born”, Cassie taunted as she stretched her back while glaring at Lila.

Lila turned around and smirked, “You know I’m going easy on you, right?”, she said as she bounced towards Cassie, while she smiled devilish.

Cassie simply gulped for a second but then she rolled her eyes and motion on her hand for Lila to keep going, while turning around to sit in the mat next to Wanda who was reading a book silently while she waited for them to finish.

“Don’t worry Cassie”, Wanda offered with a slight smirk. “Y/N felt the same way when Peter won their combats”, she laughed as you watched her with bulging eyes, extremely offended at what she said.

“Hey!”

Peter smirked as he heard Wanda, folding his arms over his chest remembering the times -not when he won- but when you wouldn’t complete a task because of your banter; which ended with Steve and Nat furious at you two.

“It’s true”, Peter muttered, while you turned around with a gaping jaw.

If this was back then, you would have totally made a move on Peter. You would’ve probably tripped him over and then climbed over him, ordering him to take it back before he would overpower you and then stamp a kiss in any part of your face.

But this was now and it didn’t work like that anymore.

“It’s totally not”, you cried as you held your head high “I’ve kicked your ass as well”, you bickered.

Peter laughed at your answer and you couldn’t avoid but to let go either, laughing at past memories who could feel like as if they had happened yesterday but at the same time, as if they had happened in another life. To a distant you who didn’t exist or fit anymore, still it didn’t change that your heart jumped as you heard Peter’s laugh.

It soon died down, your gazed linked together with a little glimpse of feelings of the past; and god, how you wanted for that glimpse to last a little longer but Peter quickly walked away towards Harley.

“It’s now you and me”, Peter said to Harley, lips a bit pressed together.

Although Peter understood that Harley was part of the Avengers, it didn’t mean that he simply liked it. Harley, as the lovely asshole he was, liked to rile Peter up and Peter for any reason whatsoever always gave Harley that power over him. It was so stupid for you but you thought that the root of the problem which was you and your dad didn’t exist anymore so there wouldn’t be any more trouble.

You were wrong.

“What!?”, Harley cried to you as he completely disregard Peter who was in front of him,

You rolled your eyes, thinking Harley was being a baby. “Now Harley, go ahead with Peter”

“He has superpowers!”, Harley complained once more as if he was a toddler, which made you give him a look while raising your eyebrows.

“I can take him and I don’t have superpowers”, you replied seriously.

“No, you can’t”, Wanda said quickly.

You simply huffed while Peter smiled softly and so did Lila and Cassie, completely entrance by the situation in front of them.

“You should prove it”, Harley chuckled, raising his eyebrows as he crossed his arms.

“I can’t believe you are in MIT, you are not as smart as you think you are”, you shrugged. “Plus, can’t you just shut up for a second?”

Harley and Wanda giggled at the same time as they heard you, Harley’s eyes quickly connecting to Wanda’s who gave Harley a toothy smile. Harley and Wanda had actually been getting along through the weekend, on your dinners and while you trained. It seemed as if Harley was constantly chasing Wanda like a lost puppy, but in the cool and suave way that only Harley had.

“Whatever, if this irritates you more than talking about Mysterio…”

You quickly snapped your neck towards Harley as your jaw clenched. You huffed, annoyed by Harley bringing up Mysterio once again who was your least favorite topic at the moment.

“Oh! I saw that he was trending this week on Twitter”, Cassie exclaimed as she quickly ran to her bag and grabbed her phone while you rolled your eyes as she tapped furiously on her phone.

You couldn’t believe that everyone seemed so blindsided by a man who was clearly a sketch ball and that was sure that he, only him, could save the earth. While you and Peter, seemed to be a collateral from this own personal mission to avenge his planet. It really did seem like a comic book that had been pulled from someone’s as-

“Yeah, I saw that everyone was talking about him. Like how did he do that?”, Lila screech, making you lose track of your thoughts as Wanda and Harley walked towards them to watch the video that Cassie had playing on her phone.

Peter simply smiled, as if some old friend was being recognized. “We don’t really know but he was really helpful. He also said we were great”

“Did you got to know him?”, Cassie yelled as she watched Peter with puppy-like eyes.

“Well yeah…”, he hesitated. “We have been working with him, me and Y/N”

Cassie almost dropped her phone as she nipped over to where you and Peter were standing, “You should get a picture with him! Everyone saying his like a new avenger”

You could feel your eye twitching at Cassie’s comment.

“He isn’t”, you stated coldly.

It became really clear to you that you needed to get this over with regarding Beck, because by the way everyone was talking about him, he would believe he was an actual avenger. It simply didn’t feel right with you, the gut feeling you had simply intensified as you spend more time watching the guy. Being very quiet on the meetings gave you a chance to really analyzed him and he was clearly unhinged.

“Yeah, I’m not buying it”, Harley agreed with you which made you snap back to reality “He seems like an asshole the way he was flaunting himself in that green cloud”, he mocked.

You smiled at Harley, mentally thanking him for not following the crowd. But Peter? Peter felt offended as he glared at Harley.

“He wasn’t flaunting”, Peter replied as he walked towards the mat and gestured to Harley to come.

Harley sighed, as he seemed to accept his destiny but also a sudden and devilish smiled formed on his lips as he saw Peter’s attitude.

“Oh, come on, is so obvious he has a praise kink”, Harley continue as he quickly threw a right hook towards Peter who barely duck it, as he was a bit thrown off by Harley’s sudden move.

“I’m with Harley in that one”, you whispered to Wanda, but Peter was still able to hear you.

Peter huffed, quickly he threw a lower punch at Harley’s ribs making him hiss. Peter knew he had thrown it with a bit more strength that he usually used when fighting with ‘normal’ people, a flinch of guilt ran through his back of his mind; but Harley quickly recovered -which was new for a scrawny boy like him- and he blocked Peter’s uppercut.

“What happened Parker?”, Harley teased as he blocked Peter’s punch.

It seemed to be actually a good fight, Harley was really putting in the effort but Peter, on the other hand, was losing its patience. Soon, Peter threw another lower punch at Harley’s rib which this time released a small crack along with a howl from Harley’s part and soon Peter knocked him flat with one swing of his feet.

You gasped at the sound of Harley’s body on the floor, it made you stop breathing for a second. Harley groaned while Peter simply gaped at the sight of Harley on the mat. He knew he had maybe gotten a bit carried it away, Harley could rile him up without much but now he felt guilty. You soon came into the picture glaring at Peter, he winced at the thought of you being angry at him. But you didn’t give him more than two seconds as you kneeled down next to Harley whose eyes were closed, Cassie and Lila followed, Wanda was a bit behind but with an uneasy look on her face.

“Are you okay?”, you asked as you lifted his shirt and checked for any major injuries by touching the area, the only thing you could see was a bruise that was starting to form on Harley’s abdomen.

“I’m okay”, Harley let out slowly, finally opening his eyes. “You are still so in love with me that you want to undress me?”, Harley muttered smugly. “Jeez, lady”

You sighed in relieve as you stood up. “He’s okay, he’s still making jokes”, you said as all of the others could finally let out a breath.

Peter quickly walked towards Harley and helped him stood up, shame colored his face as he watched down at Harley, touching the back of his neck, quickly muttering an ‘m sorry’ to Harley, who simply gave him a light smile.

“This was a stupid discussion”, you said as you stood up from your knees and glared at both boys, who had already fixed it apparently. “Nonetheless, I have a Cap moment here”

“You don’t say”, Wanda muttered which made Harley snickered.

You shook your head as you directed yourself to the others.

“Harley and Peter are a good example on how not to have a good relationship with your partners.”, you explained as you pointed at them, making Peter look down and Harley blush.

“You have to be sure about the person that is next to you on that field or in a moment of need”, your eyes connected with Peter’s and it made your heart twist inside of you. “There’s no way this can work if there’s not a minimum of trust, I have to know that my partner will understand my choices and if he doesn’t, he will be there to catch me in case that I mess up”

Your voice died down as you finished, everyone remained silent and it seemed like they were actually trying to digest what you just had said because it was way too real. Especially if you thought about the job you were doing but you… you were thinking about your relationship with Peter, not as the superhero duo that people on the outside saw you as but the real way that you saw him and he saw you.

“Dismissed”, you then proceeded to say. “We are done for the weekend, you did a great job for your first training”, you sang proudly as you watched their faces light up with a smile.

“Thank you!”, Cassie giggled as she and Lila hugged each other.

It didn’t take long for everyone to start packing up their things from the gym and you giving calls for the Quinjet to take them to their respective homes. Cassie and Lila quickly said goodbye as they ran together to their respective room to grab their bags and then fly home, since they had school the next day. You could hear Lila saying to Cassie that she was going to help her and show her all her moves as they exited the gym.

On the other hand, Harley had decided he wanted to stay a few more days on Stark Tower to work on his suit, that it didn’t matter that he skipped a few classes if he mentioned his new position on Stark Industries but you silently saw how he was waiting for Wanda to finish stretching.

Just like clockwork, he threw his shot.

“Hey Wanda, do you maybe want to go for a snack?”, Harley asked her a bit timidly as Wanda picked up her book with a swift hand motion and placed it on her other hand, the red energy that emerged and surrounded her hands almost left Harley in awe.

Wanda blinked a few times as it dawned to her what Harley was actually saying, it was clearly that she wasn’t expecting it. Maybe it was too intrusive from your part to be watching them from a far, crossing your fingers and hoping for Wanda to actually say yes; you were also so sure that Harley was in the verge of his heart stopping by the way he was gazing at her.

“Only if you are buying”

Wanda gave Harley a light smile and it seemed like the tension had been popped, Harley seemed like he could breathe once again, he was trying so hard not to smile as brightly as he wanted.

“It was implied”, he said with cockiness dripping from his voice as they exited the gym without even saying goodbye.

“I’m glad”, Wanda simply said as she walked out, a little bit ahead of Harley who followed her swiftly without looking back.

You shook your head while you picked up your own stuff. You couldn’t even avoid smiling at the memories of Peter asking you for the first time to go get something to eat, just days after your first encounter in the lab where Tony was showing him around while you were working on your own suit. It felt like your stomach twisted at the thought of those first few moments of getting to know each other, just maybe if you closed your eyes you could remember the cold wind on those days.

“Hey, you did a great job today”, the voice of Peter startled you, as you turned around wide-eyed, you had almost assumed that he had left since he had been leaving trainings rather fast the last few days.

But there he was, the boy you were in love with for what you think was forever. The more you thought about it, it was simply stupid to assume and be upset that your love for Peter hadn’t faded away, it was stupid because you knew you would never feel the same way about anyone else and although it might have brought you more than one headache since he came back, you were somehow grateful.

Yes, you were grateful for Peter Parker, even though you weren’t really on talking terms, even though if he hated you even a little for your actions, even though he made you question every decision you ever made, even though it hurt to see him because you connected him with moments with your father who you had lost.

But how could you not be grateful when he was standing right there in his dark blue t-shirt that he used for training that framed his muscles perfectly and those grey sweatpants that hanged a bit low sometimes. How could you not be grateful for the caramel curls that fell on his forehead, pink lips that had a similar shade to the a small blush from the workout on his face, along with his freckles that seemed like a galaxy that decorated his cheeks and those chocolate milk eyes with gold specks that lingered a bit longer to yours and dripped adoration.

“Oh- uhm”, you stuttered as you stood up and looked down, wishing he didn’t see you blushing. He did. “Thank you”

Peter gave you a tight smile, his eyes still lingering on your colored rosy pink cheeks that were accompanied by your heartbeat that was stammering non-stop. It made him shake his head, as he felt like he could punch the air in success by your reaction.

“Yeah, well I got to get going”, Peter muttered as he walked backwards while you finally filled yourself with enough courage to look back at him.

“You got something?”, you stated. You couldn’t deny that you were a bit disappointed as you saw him leaving but also glad that this was his first approach to you, some compliments here and there that could maybe strengthen your relationship of partners in the future.

But Peter stopped abruptly and he blushed too. “No, not really”

The way he answered, his voice stretching at the end and you caught it right away. This was your chance to finally have a real talk that didn’t involve The Avengers, this time you could really discuss what was left unsaid at the funeral.

“Do you mind if we talk?”

It simply rolled out of your tongue but not as an unwelcoming guest but more as a shy guest. Peter knew it was coming, he did open the door for this and he knew you understood how his mind work -just like he knew yours too-.

It had been a couple of days where he had been entranced by your leadership skills, by your determination and resilience but also, just spending that much time with you made him recall past days where you guys spend every hour together without stopping. He saw everything that you once were but now in such a new light that it made him want to know you more. It was almost like a magnetic effect, he needed you close and by the way you were acting at the moment, you needed him too.

“No, it’s okay”, Peter answered with a tight smile.

Your wide eyes and a light smile gave you away. “Okay, then we could go to my room”, you said as you grabbed your things and got closer to Peter, who raised his brows. “Oh no, but not in that way, I…”

The words crashed against one another in your mouth and you wished your brain would just get it over with but being so close to Peter that you could feel the heat of his body, it made you dizzy.

“It’s okay, we can go”, Peter finally stated and it made you wince at the thought of how stupid you must have sound as you simply nodded and began walking out of the gym.

But Peter only thought it was cute.

The ride on the elevator to the penthouse was silent with some smiles being exchange but nothing more, Peter could hear your heart stammering and somehow, he even became worried about it because it sounded so loud, but then he realized his was beating as hard as yours.

Peter wasn’t really surprise to see the penthouse as he had already visit it when he talked to Pepper, but your room… everything had changed. The once blue paint that decorated your walls was gone to find a white and beige paint, the little traces of your childhood that hadn’t been burned by The Mandarin attack were nowhere to be seen, now your walls were decorated with elegant paintings and even a neon text from Tracey Emin. It was more elegant and grown up but it still had your essence. The pictures in the wall next to your bed hadn’t changed one bit, they were better organized and there he was in most of them but then next to him he saw Morgan and Tony, and there was a picture of Harry and you.

He tried not to think about the voice in the back of his mind telling him he was displeased with the picture.

“You want to sit down?”

Peter sighed and he nodded, his eyes studied you as you sat on your large bed and patted softly a spot next to you. He sat down without saying much while you simply hugged your knees to your chest. As if you were somehow protecting yourself from the possible damages that could come from this conversation.

You felt Peter’s weight on your bed and you looked down, your heart was stammering on your chest and there was an awkward shift in the air. You had never been alone with Peter since that faithful conversation -unless you took into account the fight with the water elemental- but this would be the most important conversation that you had to have. Your eye lifted and met Peter’s first. Peter was staring at you in trepidation, you felt your cheeks flush and tears dangerously close to your eyes.

It came out as word vomit.

“I- I just wanted to say that… I don’t even know how to begin this but I’m so sorry”, you weren’t sure if it was even your voice, too brittle for just such a small piece of what you wanted to say. “I truly am sorry and I just-”, again your mind trying to fit the words into this small moment that Peter had gave you.

You didn’t know if it was right to say what you truly felt because of the situation you were in but looking at his chocolate eyes and there was this warmth for him that blossom from your chest as you watched him gazing at you. What was the worst thing that could actually happened if you were honest? If you weren’t it would be buried on your chest like a sharp glass and every time you spend time with Peter, it would hurt and, as you studied Peter, it would hurt him too.

“Peter I never forgot you”, you breathe out. “You were always in my mind and it was just so hard to get out of these walls without you and I truly believed I was never going to be the same and I’m truly not but… I just want to say that with everything that has happened, I love you”

Peter’s eyes opened like plates as he heard the words, tears threatening to run from your eyes and rosy cheeks; your appearance being as soft as it was, it was in complete juxtaposition to such a strong confession.

“Y/N…”

Peter wasn’t sure if you were in your right mind but if he was being completely honest, there was nothing more he had wanted to hear since he came back.

“Listen to me”, you intervened, because you had to say it before he could shut you down again. “I love you but I also found someone who made me feel alive again when I thought you were completely gone. You were my everything and then Thanos erased you from my life, I didn’t even care to continue Peter and…”, you threaded slowly from the words, because as you close your eyes and the tears finally fell from your eyes, you remembered how cold and lonely those days were. How you felt like you were drowning and no one could help you.

“It was like… as if something had completely turned off inside of me. It was feeling numb or not even, just feeling nothing”

The word rang on Peter’s ears and caused a shiver to travel through his spine, it was so strong that he closed his eyes a bit, as if he had been taken back again when he was being taken apart piece by piece. But it went away quickly when he, out of instinct, grabbed your hand and you squeezed it in response. He opened his eyes and he watched you staring at him, tears and everything, He remembered Pepper’s words, how broken she told him that you were but he was still somehow apprehensive about everything, but staring at you with completely transparency… he knew that he could trust.

“I felt that too”, he whispered.

“What?”, you asked as you brushed tears from your own eyes that were still falling without any control.

“Yes, when I was being…”, Peter didn’t know how to exactly phrase what happened to him correctly, because not a word could describe how he felt, “Turn into dust? It felt like someone had been breaking me apart into nothingness”, he closed his eyes at the memory of the feeling, shuddering. “I just…” Peter wanted to cry as he began to shake. The memories of the torturing feeling of being turned into nothing began to fill his memory. “It was terrifying and overwhelming and…”

“As if you couldn’t breathe?”, you asked silently as you squeezed his hand harder and got closer to him.

Peter opened his eyes to see you studying him, a worry expression drawn on your face and he simply nodded, with a slight smile, just because you knew.

You remained silent for a few seconds, to let Peter digest your statement. You knew that it maybe wasn’t fair because he had been literally killed and brought back to live while you, you simply lost him. But deep down, you knew it really felt like you had been dragged to hell after he had left.

Peter simply, held your hand tighter, a part of him was glad that you could understand that feeling and it felt as a confirmation that you were together through everything -through thin and thick- like since you first met each other. But on the other hand, he knew it wasn’t true because Harry had been there when he wasn’t, because you had moved on and the more he thought about it, he was glad that Harry had helped you through the pain; the same way he would’ve helped you if he was there.

“So, Harry made you breathe again?”, Peter asked, sniffling a bit.

He stared at you and it seemed as if the air lightened up a bit as you shook your head.

“My dad”, you muttered with a smile as you remember Tony in silence. “He just told me that you wouldn’t want me to waste my life”

Peter stayed silent for a second as he stared at New York through your windows because if he really thought about it, if he really never came back, he would’ve wished exactly that: for you to live.

“He was right”

“He was mostly always right”, you answered back as you thought of Tony.

You giggled together.

“And then came Harry, he just…”, it was weird to not know how to really put into words what Harry made for you without making it sound so simple. But at the end, it really was that, your relationship with Harry was easy and it was great. “He was just there for me and made me laugh. I just didn’t need more, he made me feel some things that I had only experience with you but in a different way”

Peter winced at the thought of Harry and you, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on the thought as you scooted towards him and continued.

“I need you to know that I still love you and that hasn’t change in the time that pass but now…this”, you said as you pointed to both you and him and towards Harry’s photo on your wall, “It’s not fair to any of us what happened but we have to deal and I just can’t throw away the last two years of my life and go back”

Peter nodded, although it hurt.

It hurt so much to know that you were right, it hurt so much to know that he couldn’t protest, that he couldn’t move when all he wanted to do is kiss you and pull you towards your bed, he wanted to touch you and spend the day lazily kissing each other as he drew lines on your skin. He wanted to laugh with you, he wanted to train with you and then pepper your face with kisses, he wanted to go back.

But he couldn’t and he couldn’t blame you or anyone really for it.

It just happened.

“I get it”, Peter turned towards you, so he could see you watching him, “It’s hard but I understand, Y/N”

“Thank you”, you breathed as you threw yourself towards him.

Peter thanks to his reflexes caught you, just like he always did. It was the first time you hugged like this since your final battle with Thanos and you couldn’t help to recall how you thought at one point during your relationship that you fitted perfectly into his arms. You were over Peter, straddling him while your arms were tightly wrapped over his shoulders, your face hidden on his neck while his arms were wrapped around your torso.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed holding each other.

You felt the tears escaping your eyes once again, but they were the first happy tears that you had dropped in a while. Peter felt your small whimpers as you cried and he couldn’t help but to hold you tightly. He wanted to take you all in, he didn’t want to let go and he felt that you didn’t either.

“And with everything that’s happening with the avengers, I truly need you to be the Steve to my Tony”, you muttered while you held him a little bit tighter.

Peter laughed as he remembered Steve and Tony together. “So, friends?”

You laughed with him but it soon died down as you began to let go and Peter’s hands fell onto your hips. It was an involuntary move that was born many years ago, you simply didn’t let go so fast and your forehead simply fell against his as you closed your eyes. If this was another time, if this was another reality, your lips would’ve naturally chase each other’s, as hummingbirds chasing flowers. Peter closed his eyes as well, taking you in as one of his hands itched for cupping your face and pull you into a kiss.

But deep down, both of you knew that you couldn’t. You sighed and smoothly stood up from Peter’s legs as you watched him with a disappointed smile.

“The gang misses you too”, he finally muttered after a few moments.

You had thought about the gang a lot the past few weeks, you had wanted to see them more than anything in the world. The thing was, when you didn’t grow with many friends and then found those soulmates that you never thought you would find, you learned to really appreciate them. It had been so long, you missed Ned’s engulfing hugs, Betty’s sweetness and determination, Flash’s comments (when he wasn’t bullying anyone) and MJ’s calm and support. Your mind had wondered to the past in school so many times when they were gone and since they came back you really did want to see them, but the uneasy thought of everything changing scared you.

“I miss them too”.

Peter nodded as he watched you closely, he knew you well enough to notice how you were fiddling like you did whenever you were stressed. He was glad he could still pick-up on mannerisms from years ago. By the way you were pulling your sleeves over your hands, he knew that you had decided to stay away because you were scared. He just wasn’t sure what you were scared about, if these were the people you had called family at one point but he was determined to not let it fall.

“We are hanging out today, later we are going for pizza”, Peter commented, nonchalant. He stood up and walked closer to you, causing you to breath him in. “Wanna come?”

The offer made you blink a couple of times. Your eyes opened as if you were about to tear up and you couldn’t help but to let out a smile. Deep inside you, you knew you might have not been ready to see the other’s, if you hadn’t made up with Peter.

“Yes, please”, you breathe out as a small smile etched its way to Peter’s face.

Peter right then and there realized how starved he was from you, from your presence, from your kind and loving nature. He was going through withdraw the last few weeks, having you again felt as if he could breathe. Even though, he couldn’t really have you.

“So, do you want me to pick you up or…”

You shook your head, “No, just text me the address and I’ll be there.”

Peter smiled as he got closer to you, he nudged you jokingly on your shoulders, causing you to laugh.

“I’ll see you there”, Peter sang as he left your room, with a smile that didn’t go away for him.

You, on the other hand, remained frozen for a few minutes in your room. In completely awe that Peter had actually invited you to go out with him and the others. You didn’t want to admit that the thought of Peter hating you forever had been eating you alive for the past month or so, you could still recall Peter’s glare when you had confessed at the funeral that you were with someone.

But now, it seemed as if you and him fell back together, as you usually did.

You spent the rest of the day on your lab, with a smile plastered on your face and with no distractions while you still tried to decode the USB that Tony had left for you. Most of the time that you had spent working on it, it had been festering resentful and angry feelings about Tony’s death but that day, it was the first day where you actually came to enjoy working on it. It was still frustrating that you hadn’t managed to crack it, but you were comforted by the feeling that Tony had actually thought about leaving something meaningful to you, something that was so meaningful that you had spent weeks trying to decipher it.

It was about 7:00pm when you realized you were late, HAPPY had the instruction to only bother you when Peter sent the address for the new pizza place that they were planning to go to. Otherwise, you were busy for anyone asking for you, unless it was an avenger emergency.

You hadn’t seen anyone since training and since you had silenced your phone, it was a surprise to see Wanda laying on your bed while you got out of the shower.

“So, how was your afternoon with Harley?”, you asked Wanda with a smile as she was watching the roof of your room. It was clear that she had spent the whole afternoon with the scrawny boy, she was still on her gym clothes.

“Yeah”, she muttered as she sat up while you began changing. “We went to some places he knew; he took me to this amazing bookstore that also had vinyl’s? I mean, we listen to a few records together”

You turned around and watched Wanda’s worried gaze, you picked up right away that this wasn’t a normal conversation. This wasn’t that Wanda had just wandered to your room by casualty, she needed to talk. In past times, it was natural for you to find your way to each other’s room, including Nat’s. There would be small places where you could talk about anything and everything, where you could laugh and cry. You hadn’t had that in a while, with Nat after the snap there had been a few conversations but nothing like before, it seemed like it was too painful to perform the ritual without Wanda.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked as you quickly put on the tennis skirt that you wanted to wear and ran towards Wanda that was begging to shake as sobs escaped her mouth.

“I just…”, Wanda struggled to form words as you wrapped your arms around her. “Vis and I used to spend so much time together and it came to the point that I realized that I don’t know where he began and I ended”

You sighed, because you had been in the same place for a while, you understood Wanda’s mistrust about her own feelings, about her own self. It was the exact same way you felt when you lost Peter, when the caramel curls disappear along with those chocolate milk eyes that you came to adore. You experience withdraw and it had taken months and a pep talk from Tony to get you back on your feet.

“And I don’t know how to be me anymore, it seemed like I gave it all my authenticity and my essence to what we had and then he died which is completely ridiculous because he wasn’t supposed to die!”, Wanda cried as she rolled her eyes with exasperation.

“Wanda…”

“I- I just was somehow happy that I died with him?”

The last sentence shock you and Wanda remained silent as well as she heard her own words slipping out of her lips. Your gazes linked together once again and it didn’t take long for Wanda to continue to spill tears on your shoulders as you tried to support her on the best way you could. The simple statement had touched a nerve, as you remember the nights that the thought of dying with Peter as he turned to ash seemed to be a relieve. A dream.

It lasted for a few minutes and you patiently waited for her tears to stop streaming from her eyes. When she finally stopped shaking, you continue to caress her hair, as you knew she had always liked Vis to do when she was feeling upset.

“It gets better”, you whispered.

Wanda sniffed, “I hope you are right”, she said and you could hear the smile on her face. “He has a crush on me, doesn’t he?”

You smiled and sighed. You wouldn’t lie to her, even if you loved Harley like a brother too and you knew he wanted to be as smooth as he could about this, you knew he cared for her and he understood the situation that Wanda was in. It had been all over the papers at some point, Wanda and Vis together in some part of Europe, even rumors about marriage -which people didn’t liked since she was so young and he was… well-.

“I don’t even read minds like you and I can see it”

Wanda giggled as she finally stood up from the bed, it seemed like she needed the crying session and now she felt better. She watched you on your tennis skirt, bra on and towel wrapping your hair. “So, you are going out with Peter?”

You shook your head with a smile that apparently no one seemed to be able to wipe from your face. “Well, with The Midtown gang”

Wanda gave you a knowing look as you began to look for the polo shirt that you wanted to wear under an oversize dark blue sweater you had already set apart. It was a spring day and you had decided that you would look cute and good, something less stressing that what you had been wearing through the last few years, which most of them were formal outfits.

“That comes with Peter”, Wanda said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Yes, it does, but today we finally had the talk and I think that we are actually going to be fine”, you replied with a smile as you finished dressing up and checked yourself in the mirror.

Wanda quickly gave a few steps and wrapped her arms around you, giving you one of those strong hugs that Wanda rarely gave. You smiled as you looked at her on the mirror and tighten your hand that was over her arm. It was comforting, having her again and you thanked Tony on your mind for getting her back.

“I’m glad that you are doing okay”, Wanda whispered as she let go and walked towards the door. “By the way, I saw your boyfriend this week on paparazzi photos when he came to wait for you and he really is nice to look at”

You laughed as you began to brush and dry your short hair, you shook your head as Wanda exited your room while you replied, “He is nice to look at, isn’t?”

Soon after Wanda left and you finished with your hair, Peter sent you another text telling you that they had already arrived as HAPPY told you while you placed some blush and mascara. You thought that you would get on time by car or by metro, but the more you thought about it, the idea became even more annoying to you. You gazed at your windows and gave a look at the bright city; it was quite a view from your room.

Deep down, you knew you wanted to fly everywhere you went. It was something that Pepper didn’t really approve but it was more like Tony to do stuff like that, it was like when he sometimes went to Parent-Teacher conferences on his suit. The more you thought about it, you concluded who were you to not do it like your father did? Without any lingering doubt on your body, you simply tapped your necklace and the nanobots began to surround your body and you smiled.

It didn’t take long for you to get there, basically only 4 minutes if you were counting but you weren’t. Your mind was way too busy thinking about how everyone would react about you. You stood outside the restaurant, mind grinding as you thought how your encounter would actually go. You wanted to somehow be prepared for possible comments or interactions you may had, but if you were completely honest, you didn’t really know what would come your way.

“You realize that you are not in a mission, right?”

MJ was the kind of person that made your entire day without doing much. When you turned around, she looked exactly like you remembered hair, she was lean and tall. Her brown curly hair fell perfectly on her shoulders, framing her face. You remembered how you envied her hair and how she wouldn’t have to work too much on it for it to look beautiful. She seemed like a piece of art, and you were sure she was made for modelling but she had decided she would focus more on physics than any other possibility of a different career.

“MJ!”

You know she wasn’t a hugger but you still threw yourself towards her without any thought. It seemed like it had been forever since you had seen your friend but at the same time, as if nothing had happened. It was as if you could still give each other certain looks and the other would know what they meant, that you could spend hours in silence studying or watching movies. Nothing had really happened and you could feel the relieve washing over you as you hugged her.

“You didn’t forget me!”, MJ exclaimed as she hugged you back.

“How could I ever forget you”, you whispered with a smile as you finally let go.

MJ was smiling as well but her face quickly became plain, she looked down and cleared her throat. You knew what was coming, MJ was not one for being sentimental but the heaviness of her moves made you realize what she wanted to say, you winced.

“I’m really sorry about your dad”

You looked away from her for a second, you thought about how your dad actually liked MJ and that you had finally had a girl friend who wasn’t an avenger. “Thank you”

She held her hand for you and you didn’t even think as you gave yours and squeezed hers as a small gratitude gesture. This was one of the things you loved about MJ, she was transparent and kind. She didn’t walk around eggshells and she always had the empathy that many lacked. MJ had become one of your best friends as soon as you met her, which made Peter crazy because it had taken years for her to warm up to him and Ned. But there you were, you understood the other so well that it didn’t required any time.

“We have to go in, you know?”, she said as both of you watched the Pizza Place from outside.

You could feel your heart on your chest, hammering away and you took a little breath. “Yeah, sure”, you whispered as MJ guided you to the door.

Ned, Betty and Flash were sitting on a table while Peter was grabbing a couple of more seats for MJ and you. The Pizza Place had a couple of people, but nothing out of the ordinary. They hadn’t notice that you arrived until MJ cleared her throat and then sat down, giving the others space to greet you as they wished.

“Y/N!”, Ned’s screamed rumbled through the whole place, making the few people on the place to turn around, worried about what could possibly be so important. But you couldn’t care a lot as Ned threw himself towards you and engulfed you into a big hug.

Ned had been a handful for you at the begging of your friendship, since you were rather on the silent type while Ned was anything but that, always leaving little crumbles of knowledge or ideas that were running around through his head, even if no one had asked. But as time passed, you warmed up to him until you became as loud as he was when around him sometimes and he came to understand your silence. Enjoying building things with you, tinker in some tech that you had showed to him and even do your homework together.

You had missed him even more that you thought.

“Ned!”, you replied as you wrapped your arms tightly around him as well.

“Babe, it’s my turn!”, you could hear Betty’s harmonious voice as Ned finally let go.

You smiled widely as you wrapped your arms around Betty as well. She was now even shorter than you, but she still smelled like a brand-new book. Betty and you had always gotten along nicely, you had been partners in a couple of classes and you had similar styles for working, when she and Ned began to date it simply brought you closer. Betty was the kind of person that was always busy, but you loved that about her. She always had something to do, or somewhere to go, the determination that she had was admirable.

“I can’t believe it’s you”, Betty gushed as she let go. “I’ve missed you so much”

You smiled back. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you, guys”

“Even me?” Flash asked as he came from behind Betty.

You shook your head; Flash was clearly still trying to grow a mustache and you couldn’t help to laugh as you quickly gave him a small hug.

“Even you”, you said as he let go, but his hand still lingered on your shoulder.

“Let’s seat”, Peter’s suggestion startled you, you could still he was still annoyed with Flash constant flirting with you. But you shook it off and walked towards him, quickly giving him a peck on his cheek.

“Thank you”, you whispered with a smile.

Peter was unsettled by your sudden kiss but he couldn’t lie about how much he had loved it. His heart was melting as he watched you closely. Peter felt a lingered sensation of your relationship, he loved your kisses and how you used to pepper his face with them. You never missed a chance to gave Peter a kiss, even tame ones like on his cheek -who at the end of the day, ended up being the majority of them-. Peter felt his cheeks get warmer, he simply tried to hide them as he took a seat.

Peter didn’t reply anything but you saw how bright and pink his cheeks turned, it made you smile as you sat down and began to chat. The conversation went smoothly without any hiccup and it seemed like your fear of them was now so stupid, but you tried to still dodge as many questions as you could, mostly focusing on school and work. It seemed like everyone except Peter had their plan laid out for the next stage of their lives, Ned was definitely going to MIT while Betty would go to Yale and MJ to Columbia, Flash still was deciding if he was going to go UCLA or stay close by in any university on the East Coast.

Nonetheless, Peter was surprised when he heard you saying that you had also applied to Harvard and Columbia and you were wishing for Columbia to accept you. Peter really though that you would go to MIT, as you had planned with Tony but he sensed that the same feeling of responsibility for New York that he felt, was also weighing on you.

But the conversation faded quickly on how Ned and Betty were planning their long-not that long- distance relationship for next fall.

“You two are so cute!”, you said as Betty leaned on Ned with a smile.

You had always had a weak spot for Betty’s and Ned’s relationship, it seemed so fragile but strong at the same time. Two people that you never thought would work out, where there making it.

But Flash’s laugh distracted you, “You know who would be cuter? Us”, he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and got closer to the table.

You rolled your eyes so back to your head that it seemed like they would get lost on your skull.

“Oh god Flash, just stop”, MJ rolls her eyes while you couldn’t help to burst into laugh as you watched everyone’s reaction. Everyone soon joined in on the laugh, even Peter with a small giggle.

“What?” Flash exclaimed annoyed as he tried to be heard over everyone’s laughter. “I’m serious”

Everyone began to laugh louder, except for Peter who deep down wanted to smack Flash across his face; even if you two weren’t together anymore, it still annoyed him.

“Not gonna happen”, you muttered as everyone’s laugh began to die down. Some giggles still escaped your lips as you saw Flash’s brows bumped together, clearly upset. “Sorry Flash”, you muttered sweetly, as you drink a bit of water.

“Parker here told us you two broke up”, Flash grumbled as he glared at Peter, who glared right back at him. “Thought we had a chance”

You choke a bit on the water as you heard Flash, you quickly gazed back at Peter who was looking down. Peter really didn’t want to touch on the topic, he had in fact told them about what was going on with you but he thought that it was a silent understanding that no one should bring that up. Peter now really wanted to punch Flash on the face. You turn back to see Flash again, with a quizzical smile.

You didn’t know if Flash was kidding or if he was throwing his real shot.

But you knew that if you didn’t bring it up, they would know. Harry had already been caught near the tower the last week, it was only a matter of time until people knew that you were together.

“I’m actually with someone else…”, you muttered as you then pressed your lips into a thin line waiting for everyone to react.

“WHAT!?”, you were sure everyone through New York had heard the shriek of MJ, Flash and Betty. You watched carefully how Ned hadn’t actually screamed along, you figured that Peter had already told him about Harry.

“Peter!” MJ growled.

“Why didn’t you tell us!?” Flash replied again while Peter sighed.

Peter felt the intense gaze of everyone looking at him, when he lifted his head his eyes met with yours, a glimpse of exhaustion and disappointment flashed on his eyes. He felt his stomach turning right away, he knew deep down he didn’t want anyone to know that you guys broke up because you were with someone else. If it was just a breakup, he guessed that people thought that you would get back together but if you were with someone it meant that his chances were lower, and although he knew that… he felt like it would feel so final if everyone knew.

The sting on his chest was bothering him more at the moment, his ears were drumming and he decided he needed a break.

“Well…”, Peter began but he quickly stood up from his seat. “I’m going to pay the bill”

All of you watched as he stood up and watched him going to the register. You examined him close by, you knew that look on his face and you were worried this was one thing that could worsen his mood. Deep down, you knew you were really worried that you would hurt him again, that bringing this up again would hurt the few steps that you had taken that very same day.

“Are you going to tell us who is it?”, Betty mumbled as you snapped out of your trance.

“Yeah, it’s -uhm- Harry Osborn?”, you answer startled as you began to play with the sleeves of your sweater.

“From Oscorp”, Ned stated.

You simply nodded, “Yeah, he was running it while his father snapped…”, you muttered as you remember the first time you saw Harry. “And for my non-profit I just contacted him and we started dating”

It was the simplest way you could put it, you looked around the table as everyone was somehow digesting the fact that you were with someone that wasn’t Peter Parker. You bite your lips as you watched them carefully, you knew that this was an adjustment and this was a topic you wanted to avoid, but as you saw them… you knew you couldn’t. This was a family you had made outside of the Avengers and you were so happy that they were again in your life.

“You should meet him someti-”

“Already paid for the bill”, Peter cut you as he arrived to the table with the bill. Peter spoke as if nothing had happened and he guessed it was the best thing he could do; he had heard how your heart was hammering and he watched your grimaced as he was returning.

This was a safe, and you knew it.

“Great!”, you exclaimed as you raised from the table, more than ready for this conversation to be over.

Everyone felt startled by your statement but no one doubt for a second to follow the lead of you and Peter. Soon, Betty began chatting about something regarding a homework and MJ and Peter followed the conversation as you exited the pizza place.

“Yeah, well this was nice”, MJ muttered as she felt the spring wind on her face as she put on her coat.

“It was great to see you Y/N, we’ve missed you”, Betty said as she gave you another hug and Ned followed.

Flash nodded as he placed a quick peck on your cheek, “We have to do this again, the pizza was great”

You smiled as MJ hugged you one last time.

“Don’t go MIA again, please”

“I won’t, I promise”, you whispered back.

You felt a warm on your chest, spreading across your body as you watched your friends say goodbye, it had been such a while since you had felt like this. Everyone left slowly, Flash gave MJ a ride since his driver was already waiting for him on a black car. MJ rolled her eyes but at the end she accepted the ride with a smile, while Ned and Betty decided to walk home since it wasn’t too far away from Betty’s place and Ned like to always leave her at her own door.

And soon, two were left.

Peter didn’t want to admit it, but he was still lingering at the front of the pizza place for you. And you, you were doing the exact same thing. It was silent, the noise of the street felt like a lullaby as the wind blew your shorter hair, while Peter fidget with his light blue sweater and played with his own feet.

You were the first one to break the silence.

“Are you doing something right now?”, you asked silently as you leaned against the building, watching Peter carefully. The way his eyes flashed as he looked at you with a broad grin.

“Not really, what about you?”, as he walked closer to you.

You smiled, maintaining eye contact as you gave another step closer towards Peter. A sneaky grin grew on your face and Peter felt like he wanted to melt right then and there, as he watched you watching him like that.

“What do you have underneath that sweater?”

Peter almost choke. He awkwardly looked at you but as he saw your eyes and how your brows raised, he understood what you really meant.

He looked around for the moment, so the people passing by didn’t saw as lowered the neck of his sweater so you could see the red fabric. He was wearing his first spider-man suit and it gave you a shiver as you recall old times when you began to Avenge together.

“You want to go… patrolling?”, you whispered as you remembered a soft kiss on one of those nights.

“Are you sure?”

There was something in the back of your mind telling you that there actually was something that you had to do instead of go patrolling. But watching the moon lighting Peter’s skin, his chocolate eyes with golden specks, the little freckles that adorned his face and your mind couldn’t avoid going back to the nights you spent on roofs.

The memory felt like cold wind on your cheeks.

“Do you think your dad knows about us?”, Peter asked you as he swung through Manhattan from the tallest buildings you could think of while you flew besides him on your suit.

But you didn’t answer as you thought about how Tony was looking at both of you as you ate dinner. The memory of your father being cut and sharp was a new thing, he didn’t talk much through dinner but what he did do, was glare non-stop at Peter. He didn’t ask about school or training, which were always a must when you were at dinner. He didn’t even talk much to anyone at the table, Pepper called him out for not paying attention and he mumbled a “m’ sorry” that you could feel wasn’t very transparent.

On Peter’s part, he knew exactly that something was up. Tony was never cold towards him, he always called him a nickname or he could say his name but in a certain familiar way but the way that he had said his name tonight, it seemed as if he had spit poison. Moreover, he could feel Tony’s lingering glare on him, which caused Peter to look down all the time through dinner.

But what really tipped Peter off was when you guys were leaving, he usually didn’t ask where you were going or that your bedroom was out of limits, even after you told him that you were going patrolling he had establish a curfew with the excuse that you guys had to be ready for school tomorrow, big day or something like that -which wasn’t true at all-.

“Should we tell him now? Or is it too late?”

Peter’s words sounded distant as you continue to navigate New York, your mind was going 3000 miles per hour.

You had been dating Peter for over five months, it was after your first kiss on the medical wing after The Scorpion attacked. It was like all your feelings that had been held down for so long, exploded and now Peter couldn’t keep his hands off you. He couldn’t believe you kissed him back, he couldn’t believe you had said yes as he had asked you if you wanted to be with him, he couldn’t even believe when you had begged for him to take you, to make you scream his name, on a late October night when everyone else was away for a mission.

As time had passed, you believed everyone actually knew about it but it seemed to be an unspoken thing to not tell Tony. You had only officially told Wanda, Nat and Pepper at different times, Peter hadn’t really told anyone but Aunt May officially but then May forgot to discuss about it when Happy was around -she made him promise not to tell anything to Tony-.

Then, Sam and Bucky had caught you kissing Peter on the medical wing after he got hurt on a petty crime, the day had ended up with threats to both of them if they told anyone about what they saw and a threat from them to Peter to never hurt you. Then there was Vis, who just passed through the wall of your room in a bad time, Wanda had bothered you non-stop about it. And that last week, Steve had asked you while he picked you two from school, he didn’t like the idea about not telling Tony but he had agreed reluctantly.

“¡Y/N!”, you heard Peter’s scream, which made you dodge the building one second before you would’ve crashed against it.

“Sorry”, you mumbled as you waved your hand to the couple of people working on it who were startled by your presence -or near crash experience-. “Jeez, HAPPY you are supposed to let me now before I crash against anything!”

“I did Miss Stark, apparently you were too busy inside your own head”

You rolled your eyes as you decided to stop at the top of one of the buildings around. Your own head was eating you alive thinking how could you even tell Tony about you and Peter.

“Babe, are you okay?”, Peter’s soft voice and the thump of his landing in the roof next to you made you turn around.

The nanobots of your suit fell from your body, they crawled back into your necklace, you were trying to breathe deeply and figuring out what you should do next. It felt as if there was a pressure on your chest while you thought about what Tony could possibly said about it, not because you hated the idea that he knew but because you knew how protective Tony was about you and your safety, as well as Peter’s.

What if Tony disapproved of your choices?

“What we are doing something wrong?”, you asked. Your voice sounded wobbly and tears began to blur your vision.

You knew it was a stupid statement and that as soon as the words got out of your mouth, they made Peter went cold. He quickly took of his mask without any thought so you could see his chocolate eyes as he grabbed your face softly.

“Hey, hey- we are not doing anything wrong, okay?”, Peter said with a strong tone, his brows furrowed as he watched you.

It was one of those times when Peter’s natural born leader and confidence showed up. You knew that as he came to himself, as he grew, he could be a great leader and it made you smile just looking at his serious face.

“But-”

“Do you love me?”, Peter asked, pressing his lips together as he watched you closely.

“Obviously I do”, you answered right away, a slight tone of offense and you turn your whole body towards him. “I just I have the feeling that if my dad disapproves of this, he must have a good reason because there’s no other way he wouldn’t love the idea of us together”

Peter nodded as he took in your answer, his brows still together as he watched you. “Are you happy with me?”

You rolled your eyes as you took a hold of his hand, “Are you going to keep asking me obvious questions or are you going to help your girlfriend feel better?”,

Peter huffed with a smile as he pulled you to the edge of the building so you could seat there, facing the city. You obliged happily as you lean against his shoulder.

“Y/N, Tony loves you with his whole life and I believe that if this, what we have, makes you happy then I swear that there won’t be a problem”

You stayed silent as you ingested Peter’s words, the pressure on your chest dissipating as each moment pass while you imagine Peter and Tony together. They were so close, Tony even becoming like a father to Peter and it made you happy to have both of them, you loved them both. Now you imagine them talking about you and Tony sending you off to a very official first date or maybe even to Prom, then in a really long future dancing with both of you at a small wedding.

“He loves you too, you know?”, you stated as you watched Peter closely with a smile.

“What?”, Peter asked with a smile.

“He won’t have a problem because he cares about your happiness too”, you replied with a smile as bright as the one Peter had.

Peter simply swooped one arm around your waist, pulling you over him as you straddle his waist and wrapped your arms around his neck. He cupped your face and took a hold of your long hair, it made you whimper. He tasted like honey and the chamomile tea that you had before going out, his nose was cold as it bumped on your cheek and you smiled into the kiss as your lips played together. It was a sweet and tender kiss, it always surprised you how much love Peter could squeeze into a single kiss, a single touch; after every kiss it felt as if you were drunk on him and you loved it.

“Okay!”, you stated after a few minutes of kissing, you heard Peter’s whimper as you placed your hands against his chest so you could breath. “I’m done having a meltdown, are we patrolling or not?”

Peter huffed. “I was in the middle of kissing you”, he replied as he saw you stand up from his lap and walk on the roof of the building.

“We are on duty; we can’t be kissing”, you stated seriously, with a glimpse of malice on your eyes as Peter chased you on the roof.

“Oh okay, no more kissing then, ever”, he replied with a frown as he crossed his arm arounds his chest.

You gasped, “I was kidding!”, you said as you went towards him and place your hand on his arms, shaking him a bit like a little girl having a tantrum.

Peter laughed as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in, “I know”, he whispered to your lips and he chased your mouth.

He barely touched your lips before you stepped away from him, another whimper left his lips as you laughed.

“No, no, it isn’t that easy”, you beamed as you got closer to the edge.

Peter began to feel a bit eager as he saw you without your suit and near the edge, he loved how playful you were with him and only with him. You could be so mellow around people and introverted but with him you were just… you.

“What do you mean?”, he replied as he walked towards the edge in front of you, he watched in wonder as he saw you standing right in the edge.

“You have to earn it”, you whispered with a wink.

“Y/N?”

“Catch me if you can”, you giggled as you gave another step back and fell from the edge.

You yelled as you fell from the skyscraper laughing, with your eyes closed. You trusted Peter so deeply, that the gut-feeling of falling didn’t make you want to cry like it once did when you had begun to play with your suit.

Peter, as you very well knew he would, followed you without any doubt. He quickly placed his mask over his head and jumped from the building. He saw you free falling and he corrected his position so he could catch you quicker, and soon he had you in his arms with your nanobots beginning to appear on your body. Without any warning, you quickly lifted his mask and placed a kiss, playfully laughing before the suit covered your mouth.

Before you knew it, you were already flying while Peter threw a web towards a building and begun swinging by your side.

“Catch me if you can?”, you muttered as you watched Peter carefully, his eyes widened as he heard the phrase and was taken back to the same memory.

You smiled as you backed into the alley, being sure that no of the people passing by saw and pressed your necklace, the suit began hugging your body and soon you were in the air.

Peter blinked a couple of times as he saw you disappear into the dark and then he heard the very characteristic clicking sounds from your suit. For a moment, Peter didn’t know if this was right but his heart was dying to follow you. Was this in the deal for being friends? Partners? And clearly not a couple? He didn’t know, you hadn’t set limits and although you were the queen of limits it seemed like right now there weren’t any as you discovered this new territory.

Peter quickly followed you into the alley, he quickly took off his clothes as he packed them in his bag which he quickly webbed on the wall. Maybe it was right, there weren’t any limits and he was going to be thankful and take advantage of that grey zones in your new relationship.

Soon he was jumping to find you waiting for him on the roof.

You were waiting for him, sitting on the small building roof as you watched Queens, you heard the familiar twhip! sound and smiled as you turned around, the nanobots disappearing from your face, “Thought you would never come”

Peter smiled with a giggle and soon you were off.

The rest of the night passed right through your eyes, it felt like an eternity but you felt like you still needed more time to be with Peter, you felt like the day was missing more hours and minutes. Going patrolling with him felt even better that what you already remembered and you were sure your cheeks were going to be sore because of your smile. Peter, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped laughing and for one second he managed to forget that you weren’t together as you flew through New York. Both of you realizing how your lives didn’t really felt complete without the other.

It was like both of you had been starving and savoring these moments, that once had been something from every day, gave your life.

And you weren’t the only ones mesmerized with your return. People didn’t stop taking photos as they saw you and Spiderman together again, through the different neighborhoods of New York, from the tallest skyscrapers to the smaller buildings. It ended up being a very productive night, you managed to stop a crime in a supermarket and had carried the guys to the police station even, and old lady from the supermarket gifted you some cashews for your help. Also, you help a couple of young girls who were waiting for a bus late at night. Peter carried one and you carried the other so they could get home safe and sound.

But also, you had the quiet moments of quality you missed the most with Peter, you had come to forget how good those nights out felt and how good it was to be side by side with Peter. In the quiet moments of the night, you talked about past memories on Midtown and also with the avengers, you laughed and even cried a bit with them.

Harry’s name didn’t come up once.

And it felt the same, it clearly felt as if you could tell Peter anything. So, you didn’t really give a second thought about telling Peter about the USB.

“What do you mean?”, Peter replied and felt somber as he looked at you while sitting on the edge of a building in Williamsburg.

“He left me something and I don’t”, you breathe out in order to not panic or cry as you remembered Strange giving you the USB, “I think that I’m figuring it out but it’s taking a lot of time and…”

“What did he leave?”, Peter grumbled as you turned around, his eyes move as such speed. You knew he was thinking already how could he help.

“A USB?”, you replied with the same confusion Peter had drawn on his face when he turned around to face you.

Peter stood up rather quickly and he placed his mask over his head. He already made up his mind and he was more than convinced that you could manage to decipher whatever Tony had left for you, and in a weird way he felt deep in his heart that it was something for him too.

“We should be working on it right now”, Peter stated, already placing his mask.

“Peter it’s literally 2:00 am”, you replied as you stood up next to him.

Peter was startled by your answer as he lowered his glove and confirmed the hour with his watch.

“oH”, he grumbled still looking at the watch, a hand scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “I have school tomorrow”

You suddenly felt the weight of coming back to reality, it was dawning on you that this wasn’t your normal life like it had once been.

Fuck, you thought to yourself as you began to feel the urgency of something that you had forgotten. It had been pushed back so hard because of your night with Peter that you couldn’t really put a pin on it.

“I have to go to Boston tomorrow, fuck”, you grumbled as you took a hold of your phone and deactivated the “no disturb” setting you had placed it in all day.

“Boston?”

“Yeah, you know MIT and all”

“oH”, Peter said again as he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I have to go with…”, you stopped dead on your tracks as your phone began beeping around, all the notifications coming in at once and the sudden realization of what you had forgotten. “FUCK”

“Y/N?”

You felt out of breath as you ran towards Peter, quickly giving him a quick kiss on his cheek over his mask as your suit began to appear. “I have to go, but thank you for a great night”, you said sincerely. Your touch lingering a bit more than it should on his body.

“Hey what about the USB?”

“I’ll text you soon”, you said as you jumped from the building and flew as fast as you could to Stark Tower.

It felt like forever to arrive and the more you thought about it, the more you knew Harry was going to kill you. He had left over a million calls on your phones, texts, everything as you checked them while you arrived. There were also a couple of calls from Pepper and even there were Instagram notifications of people you didn’t even know. More messages from Pepper and Wanda, even Harley.

You cursed to yourself as you quickly landed on the terrace of the penthouse, the suit quickly dematerialized as you entered the living room where Harry was clearly waiting for you.

The whole place was dark, it was clear that everyone had gone to sleep except for him. You felt your stomach turning as you saw him sitting on the large sofa, the only light in the room was the one on his computer as he typed angrily. His bags were around him and you cringe at the thought of Pepper telling him to wait for you there and him being respectful and not going to your room right when he noticed that you weren’t answering.

He raised his head as soon as he heard your steps. His brows bumped together and you could see his sharp glare as you walked towards him.

“I’m so sorry”, you muttered as you sat in the sofa next to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you since 9:00 pm, Y/N”, he snarled as he watched you cautiously.

“I know, I know. I messed up but I was…”, you groaned as you placed your hands over your face in an effort to explain but he quickly cut you off.

“Avenging?”, he asked sharply. “Heard all about it from twitter”, he said as he took out his phone from his pocket.

You could see the irritation on him, with his frown and downturned lips. You had seen Harry like this a few times, but never to this level and you realized that you hadn’t had a real fight during your relationship. This was going to be a first and oh boy, you weren’t prepared.

“Harry…”

“It seemed as if you were on a date with Spiderman”, he spat as he passed you the phone.

You had never told Harry about Peter being Spiderman, you had kept his secret well even after he snapped but by the gleam of jealousy in Harry’s eyes, it seemed like he knew more than what he was letting on. You watched the phone as you saw the various articles and pictures of you and Peter flying through New York, your heart thumped on your chest as you remember the last few moments of your night.

You stood up as you watched away from the phone, “I was working”, you hissed.

Harry huffed as he rolled his eyes, which your served to make you give you a pinch of annoyance as you saw his behavior.

“Patrolling is part of my work as head avenger and I will not stand here as you question me regarding a job that you clearly don’t have any idea about because you don’t even care to ask about it”

You felt like your whole body was on fire as you tried to defend yourself to your boyfriend. There was a time when both of you passed a lot of time together, working on the same thing and there was nothing to disagree about, but this was different.

“I was worried for you! You never did this to me and then I go on twitter and see these he said as he showed a photo of you and Spider-man through Manhattan”, he growled as he stood up, “You can’t even call me and let me know so I can at least book a hotel?”

You exhale in annoyance at his statement. “I know I messed up but Harry, these things will keep happening because I don’t know if any threat will come and I don’t have a schedule for that. I’ll have to go on missions and maybe not even say goodbye”

“That’s not you”, Harry barked as he maintained your eye contact.

It startled you, “What?”

“I’m your boyfriend, I know you and I know that Y/N would not just runaway and leave everything for…”, he refrained himself from continuing and you watched him closely, a part of you thankful that he didn’t finish the phrase. “It’s … you are just being selfish”

“Selfish? Are you kidding me?”, you snapped as a satiric smile was drawn on your face.

You could feel the blood boiling on your veins and you felt like your body had been covered in flames. There were a few things that would make you feel like that, pure rage, it was hard. The few times you had felt them… it hadn’t been good for anyone involve. You didn’t even want to think about how you and Harry would end up after this. But selfish? After everything that Tony had taught you… it was more than an insult. It felt like someone had pinch your heart with a needle and the pain was amplified as each second passed.

“You have to think about me too”, he explained.

You felt your cheeks getting hotter and hotter as you watched the tall boy with dark hair and almond eyes. You watched him closely as you somehow expect him to take it back, but he didn’t. And you weren’t going to stay quiet, the pangs of physical hurt on your chest getting stronger as the seconds passed.

“I told you that I know and I’m sorry but don’t ever call me selfish for following my father’s legacy”, you yelled like you had never yelled at Harry before, your cheeks bright red and your face was pinched. “And if you don’t want a girlfriend that avenges, then go ahead. Be my guest to find someone new”

It was so final that Harry seemed startled, a hurt expression drawn on his face.

“Y/N that’s not what I meant”, he mumbled slowly, tiredly. “I just want my girlfriend”

You almost didn’t give him time to finish the sentence.

“I am your girlfriend Harry, I just decided to do something that I have the responsibility to do and I need someone that can support my choice”, you spat as you gave a step back. “If you don’t want to then we can finish this right here”

Harry remained silent as he watched you closely, tears were definitely building up on your eyes. You hated it, you hated that it seemed like these days’ tears would be so easily drawn from your eyes but your heart stung by what he had said.

You watched him closely, but with a disapproving gleamed and frown. It seemed like you didn’t recognize him anymore, this wasn’t someone that you would be with.

You quickly began walking away from him, into the terrace, not really thinking where to go next but surely you knew you didn’t want to be there. As you exited the living room, you pressed your necklace and your suit began to surround your body.

But quickly Harry grabbed your hand as the suit finished it’s placing on your body. You turned around startled as he was holding your wrist, the touch -even being over your suit- made you feel like he was burning you.

“I’m sorry, I love you”, he promised as he looked at you, tears of remorse flooding his eyes.

You watched him carefully. Your felt your heart being squeezed as you watched him, as you remember all your moments together and how he made you laugh, you were so thankful for him. Harry wasn’t the enemy, he wasn’t bad at all and you hated it even more. If he was really bad, you could’ve been able to simply leave but nothing was that simple. Harry was still the kind and elegant, smooth and intelligent boy you had met before, this was simply a new time in an already established and loving relationship.

But in the back of your brain, you knew that what had just happened, was bad. It was really bad, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it just yet, you weren’t ready to be wrong just yet.

“I know, it’s okay”, you replied as your suit began to contract again as Harry pushed you into a hug.

But it didn’t sit well to say I love you, so you stayed quiet.

______

TAGLIST: @SPIDEYLOVIN @ERINDANUS @SPIDEYLOVIN @ZLAMANESERCA @BETHANYSTAN @CEDRICISNOTONFIRE @ERIDANUSWAVE @LYZALOVEALK @BABEBENHARDY

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blackbutterfliescal · 4 years

Text

Your Rainbow Will Coming Smiling Through

A Michael Clifford One Shot

Pairing: Single Dad!Michael Clifford & OC Zoey Clifford

Word count: 4.8K

Rating: Mostly fluff with a side of angst

Requested by: Absolutely not a goddamn soul. I’m just here to be soft n emo, I guess.

Content: 3rd person POV, OC Zoey as Michael’s daughter, major character death (main character’s spouse is dead), side of Malum because I couldn’t help myself

A/N: This is based on Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Cinderella” and it’s lived in my head for a long time. The title is based on lyrics from “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” from Disney’s Cinderella. I don’t normally engage with a lot of dad!sos content for personal reasons, but this idea has lived in my head rent free for far too long so I hope you like it! Big big thank you to @devilatmydoor and @spicycal for encouraging me to get this one done!! It’s only taken me a month lmao

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———

Dinner had been an event. It seemed like it was always an event these days. Pasta noodles and vegetables hung from the walls in the small eat-in kitchen, reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock. Michael let out a deep sigh and ran a hand across his tired face. He’d been so sure that the new recipe would be a hit, but his headstrong three year old had dashed that hope almost immediately. Since quarantine began a few weeks ago, she’d grown bored of staying home and had begun to take her frustrations out on the only other person around. Each day in the modest apartment brought a new challenge but the theme this week was picky eating habits. Michael had tried old favorites, trendy recipes from mommy bloggers, and he’d even let Zoey pick what he bought at the grocery. Honestly, he’d tried anything and everything if he thought it meant she wouldn’t fight him at every meal.

Michael picked up the plates from the table, scraping the few bites that weren’t subjected to his daughter’s wrath into the trashcan by the door. As the dishes landed in the small sink and Michael turned on the tap, he bent forward to rest his forearms on the counter. One glance around the warzone kitchen had tears stinging his eyes. He fought to keep them from falling to no avail, eyes blurring as the droplets got lost in the flowing water and spiraled down the drain.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. We were supposed to be in this together,” Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper as his thoughts raced and he struggled to compose himself. His voice came out coarse as his frustrated cries hung in the air until it became too thick to breathe in. “It’s been nearly ten months and I’m still no good without you. Zoey’s just like you and I need you here.” He’d hoped setting his thoughts free might ease his mind, but it only made the words weigh heavier on his slumped shoulders. Michael’s pleas were desperate through the sobs. “I wish you were here. You’d know exactly what to do. You always did.” He was barely thirty when he’d been made a widower, carrying the constant grief of a life unlived, seeing a shadow where there should have been a spouse.

He’d been told repeatedly that things would get easier with time but he didn’t think there’d ever be a day where he didn’t need her, didn’t see her in their baby girl. He pulled himself upright with a deep inhale, using the back of his hand to wipe tear stains from his cheeks. Michael couldn’t stop the incessant sniffling brought on by the tears while he continued to take steady breaths through his mouth. He pulled all his focus to wash the few dishes still left from the night and placed them in the drying rack before shutting off the tap. He wrung out the dish towel and began using it to scrub down the mess on the walls. Their dogs seemed to have made quick work of cleaning up the peas that got sprayed across the tiled floor while Michael cleaned up Zoey in the bath and he assumed they’d already made their way to her room.

Through a few small, shaky inhales, he heard a familiar tune playing from the other end of the hallway. After tossing the bits of dinner that he’d pulled off the wall into the bin, he closed the lid and hung the dish towel across the faucet to dry. He quietly made his way to Zoey’s room as the music grew louder, sparing a quick glance in the hall mirror so his disheveled state didn’t alarm Zoey.

He had forgotten that he’d placed an old CD player in her room with several of his old favorites in a small case. Every now and then she liked to listen to his CDs while she played. She usually needed her dad to help her turn it on but it seemed she’d found the play button on her own and begun the same tunes they’d danced to earlier that week. Her curls, still mildly damp from her bath after the messy dinner, bounced around her round face as she spun in circles and giggles fell from her mouth freely. She’d slipped a sparkly dress-up outfit over her pajamas and the matching tiara had almost completely slipped free from her hair. Michael noticed both dogs intently watched from the bed and he let a bittersweet smile tug at his lips while she twirled around the room. Zoey reminded him most of her late mother when she smiled and it made his heart swell, reminding him that she wasn’t completely gone.

When Zoey looked up and noticed him in the doorway, a delighted squeal came from her mouth. “Daddy!! C’mon, I need you! There’s a ball at the castle and I’ve been invited and I need to practice my dancing. Please! Daddy, please!” She wrapped both of her hands around Michael’s fingers and tugged him to the middle of the carpet as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Once she was satisfied with where he stood, she steadied herself and placed her bare feet on top of his shoes, reaching out to grab his other hand. His grip on her was secure as he moved the two of them around merrily, careful not to let her slip from her place on top of his feet. Since losing Zoey’s mom, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let the little moments pass him by. He knew that someday, much sooner than he’d like, someone would steal his little girl’s heart away from him but he wanted to cherish every moment until then. Even if it did include meal-time tantrums.

The upbeat track faded out, replaced by soft guitar chords and a sweetly crooning melody. In one smooth motion, Michael lifted Zoey into his arms and began to sway with her. Her petite hand landed against his warm cheek as she met his green eyes. She studied him for a beat before he rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes fall shut. As Michael began to sing along softly, Zoey pulled away from his face and adjusted herself down to rest against his chest. He nuzzled her close and smiled at the memory that her mother had always found a calmness in the way his voice vibrated through his chest as well.

“Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

It had been an exhausting evening and it didn’t take long for familiar snores to fill the air from where Zoey rested beneath his chin. He smiled and silently thanked the universe that the last song on the album had been a ballad. Careful not to wake her, he kept a gentle rock in his measured steps as he clicked off the lights through the apartment. Making his way back into her room, he lifted the light blue covers on her small bed while the dogs shifted toward the far end. When he tried to slide her onto the pillow, Zoey’s grip on his shirt tightened and she let out a sleepy groan. Michael shushed her sweetly with a lighthearted laugh and pulled her back into him. He reached down again to pull the covers back further, causing both dogs to move to the floor with a huff, before slipping between them and letting her rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He covered them both and began to hum the sweet melody once more, letting the combination of his voice and heartbeat lull his daughter to sleep again. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to a much-needed night of rest.

———

With a contented sigh, Zoey placed her new boots on the floor, lining them up to sit below the dress hanging on a singular coat hook on the wall to the right of her closet.

She’d spent nearly every weekend for the past month piled into her dad’s car with her friends, scouring every dress shop in the city. In typical Zoey fashion, she wasn’t interested in an oversized dress with heels that she’d ultimately kick off after the first song played. Somewhere around the fourth store - or maybe fifth? - her friend had shoved her into a fitting room with an understated black a-line they’d picked for her. Though she wasn’t typically a fan of lace or tulle, she knew it was the one she’d spent her time looking for. She knew the lace appliques delicately placed across the neckline would soften up the leather boots and jacket she was already planning to wear.

She pulled one bare foot underneath her and plopped down on her bed, queuing up a lowkey playlist and admiring the outfit she’d put together. She could admit that it was nice to check the prom dress off her to-do list but the centerpiece of the outfit was her mom’s vintage leather jacket. Her dad had gifted it to her years ago, telling her about how excited her mother had been to save up for a real leather jacket and how she’d shopped through every store in the city to find the right one. Not unlike the way he’d seen Zoey searching for the right prom dress.

Of course, Zoey didn’t have many memories of her mom, except for the stories Michael had told her over the years. Somehow, things like her mother’s old leather jacket, still in great condition, made her feel connected to the woman she barely remembered. Zoey often wondered how she could miss someone she couldn’t remember on her own. Maybe some of it was secondhand grief from years of watching her father. Either way, she always felt too nervous to actually wear her mom’s jacket, afraid she’d do something to ruin it, wrecking the already thin tie she had to her. While Michael had always done his best to fill both parental roles, some problems were bigger than he could handle alone. On difficult nights when she needed a mom, Zoey dug the jacket out of the closet and just held it close, hoping to find some guidance from whatever cosmic forces were out there. Now, she’d decided, prom was as good an occasion as any to actually wear it out. It was a big night and she wanted to feel both of her parents there.

As she picked up her laptop to tackle the last few assignments of senior year, Michael’s knuckles rapped on the open door that led to her room. The sound pulled her from her reverie and she glanced up to see her dad in the doorway. Michael, mid-40s, donned large wide-rimmed glasses and his hair was cut short around his face. His natural shade had lightened quite a bit over the years while the ever-present scruff on his chin had taken on shining grey tones. He smiled fondly, taking in the outfit Zoey had put together as it hung on the wall before turning to meet her expectant gaze. Her smile beamed as she questioned, “Do you like it? Do you think Allison will like it? Her dress is baby pink so we’re going to be the least coordinated couple there. But I guess that’s fitting.” A small laugh fell from her mouth as she looked back at the all black ensemble. Michael still heard Zoey’s mom in that laugh and felt a pull in his chest seeing that jacket again. He nodded in response before pointing to the quilted leather. “She’d be so proud of you, you know?” His voice held a tinge of sadness amidst the pride he held for his baby girl.

“No!! No, no no. Don’t cry. You know that only ends with both of us crying!” Zoey slid the laptop to the side and made her way to the man occupying her door frame. He let out a sniffing laugh and shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around him while burying her head in his broad chest. Michael rested his head on top of hers before placing a small kiss on top of her hair. He’d always made sure that she felt safe with him. No matter what was going on elsewhere, it was the two of them versus the world. But damn it all if he didn’t wish that she had her mom here to see the amazing young woman she’d become.

Zoey’s playlist continued quietly and Michael began to rock back and forth as she relaxed into his arms. He knew moments like this would only get harder to come by in a few short weeks. She’d grown up in the blink of an eye, right in front of him. He wanted to keep her close as long as he could. It didn’t matter that dinner was downstairs, getting colder by the minute. Slowly, “Moon River” crept through the speakers and Zoey pulled her head back. “Wait a minute. This is the song we have to dance to,” she whispered. The smile on her face shifted from sweet to teasing and Michael braced for whatever quick-witted remark she had for him. “We gotta work on your moves, old man!” Michael rolled his eyes in response and let out a sarcastic laugh at her words. “Dad, the prom is just one week away and we need to practice our dancing. Please, daddy, please.”

It was custom that each senior waltzed with a parent, or some other guardian, at the very beginning of the prom. Families were only allowed in during this dance and would be ushered out after every group of seniors had taken their turn. Michael and Zoey had been at every after school rehearsal for the past 6 weeks, trying desperately to learn the choreographed steps. Zoey had mastered the box steps with ease. The turning box took a few more tries, but she got it eventually. Michael had taken even more practice though, and she was determined they would perfect the steps before they were in front of all her friends. He didn’t object, not wanting to embarrass her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Michael stepped further into his daughter’s room, helping her push a few things out of the way as she started the song over and stood tall in her ballroom posture. Michael took small steps but still managed to run into a few things as Zoey coached him through the routine. They made it through to the end of the song unscathed and upright, counting that as a victory.

As Zoey let her rigid posture drop, Michael placed both of his hands on each side of her head, pulling her close again to place another kiss on top of her head. “We’ve got this, Z,” he reassured her. She snaked her arms around to his back as the next song on her playlist began. They stood still in the silence as a familiar voice began to croon through the air. “Do you remember that I used to sing this to you to get you to sleep? It always did the trick after a rough day,” Michael mused as his hands brushed over her hair, reminiscing on days gone by. She leaned back to look up at her dad’s face before answering. “Of course I do! Why do you think I listen to it so often?”

The greying scruff on Michael’s chin made her giggle as it tickled her forehead where he left a kiss. “My sweet girl,” he mused as they began to sway again. She hummed along with the melody before Michael joined in, smooth voice lilting over the recording.

“Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart. For it’s there that I belong and will never part. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For my darling, I love you and I always will.”

In true Clifford fashion, Zoey’s stomach rumbled through the otherwise quiet bedroom as the next verse began. It sent both of them into a fit of laughter, reminding Michael of the reason he came up to her room in the first place - the dinner waiting downstairs. Zoey stopped her playlist before they made their way to the kitchen, voicing their concerns that the cats had jumped up on the counter to help themselves.

———

Zoey couldn’t help the smile stretched across her full cheeks as she parked her car in front of her father’s home. As she reached for the door handle, her free hand lifted the back of her fiancée’s palm to her cherry chapstick-covered smile and she placed a series of small kisses. Allison’s warm eyes met Zoey’s gaze with a blissful smile of her own before she spoke hesitantly. “The last planning session before everything is in motion. Ready for all the questions from Mr. Wedding Planner in there?” Zoey’s eyebrows quirked up and she reached behind the seats to pull out her planning binder. “Ready if you are!” They stepped out of the car and laughter followed them through the front door to announce their arrival.

The butterflies in Zoey’s stomach hadn’t diminished even slightly since the moment Allison got down on one knee during family game night. Though if Zoey honestly thought about it, the butterflies had been there since she worked up the nerve to ask Allison to prom as her girlfriend. She hoped she’d have the flutter in the pit of her stomach as long as she had air in her lungs.

The proposal had been intimate and thoughtful and sweet and perfectly them. Allison had enlisted Michael’s help, along with his long-term partner Calum, to spell out “marry me” on the game board during Scrabble. The three of them had needed to work together and it had taken a couple rounds of play for the right letters to show up. Zoey was so engrossed in the game that it took her a few beats to piece it together, even as Allison dropped to the floor in front of her while Michael tried to keep the happy tears from falling. Since then, the days had been speeding by at a dizzying pace and she felt like the big day would sneak up on her if she blinked too slowly.

They made their way through the home, cast in an amber glow from the autumn sunset, and found Michael and Calum putting the finishing touches on their typical Tuesday night dinner. Michael had always been a good cook but he’d thrown himself into more complex recipes with the extra time he had in his early retirement. The delicious aroma wafted through the open air to greet the brides-to-be as they exchanged familiar greetings with the gracefully greying men, arms held open expectantly.

“I see someone came prepared,” Calum teased, pointing in the direction of Zoey’s wedding planning binder. “I learned from the best,” she winked in return. Calum had earned his living as an event planner before retiring to spend his days with Michael and he’d been all too eager to help out. Sometimes he was a little overzealous, especially when it came to flowers, but neither bride worried over it. He had thirty-something years of experience and they would put his expertise to good use as long as he wanted to help.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You know better than to be shy around here - dig in!” Michael’s cheerful lilt brought out a chorus of laughter as the four of them began to pile their plates high with his savory creations.

Dinner together was never dull; someone always had a story to tell. Allison was gunning for a big promotion at work while Zoey worked hard to manage the small business she started last year. Michael told of all the highs and lows in his cooking adventures that week and how he’d befriended a neighborhood cat that had appeared on their porch. Calum had warned him not to feed it but eventually found the bowl under the front steps that he’d been sneaking scraps into. In the years they’d lived together, Calum made the local farmer’s market a habit and that week Michael had finally gone with him. He should have known Calum would have everyone wrapped around his finger. He couldn’t help his amazement at the way Calum charmed all the vendors into some sort of special sale for his produce, flowers, or baked goods. He noticed that Calum was the only one who seemed to be privy to these discounts. Michael couldn’t even be upset though because Calum had gotten a beautiful sunflower bouquet just for him. Calum would never admit that he just wanted to know he still had it - whatever it was.

With four sets of hands, clean up happened quickly before the wedding binder was sprawled across the table. They spent the next few hours pouring over choices for every imaginable detail. Calum had helped them create a checklist and prioritize important items and extremely time sensitive details. They managed to cross off a few more items on the checklist before Michael decided it was time to bring out dessert - apple pie with the tart apples from the “Apple of My Pie” stall that Calum had recommended at the farmer’s market.

When she was sure Michael was out of earshot, Zoey leaned across the table to whisper to Calum. “So when are we doing this for you two?” she asked as she threw a glance at her dad’s back. Allison did her best to control her laughter at the obvious prying. Calum simply waved her off with a smile, “We’ve been together, what, twelve years? Just after you started college? I think he’s stuck with me at this point, ring or no ring.” Zoey’s inquisitive stare didn’t falter at Calum’s light humor so he continued to entertain her question with a more serious tone. “You know… we’ve talked about it but he always said he couldn’t remarry after losing your mom. I always thought I wanted a wedding, even just a small one for friends and family, but it’s one thing I won’t push him about.” Calum’s eyes were filled with adoration as they settled on Michael’s back where he stood carefully slicing the pie. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll take this in whatever way makes him comfortable, in whatever way he’ll have me.”

When he turned back to face her, to see if his answer satisfied her curiosity, her eyes were brimming with emotion and concern immediately painted his features before she spoke. “I always thought maybe he didn’t remarry because of me, because he didn’t want me to feel left behind or something. And maybe that’s selfish or strange. But I couldn’t be more thankful that he has someone as caring and thoughtful as you, Cal.” Her voice had a slight rasp to it as she swallowed down her overwhelming joy. She punctuated her sentiment by placing her hands over one of his on the table. As he sandwiched her hands between his, he told her how lucky he felt to get to spend the rest of life loving Michael and that he didn’t need a marriage certificate to do that. Allison placed a grounding hand across Zoey’s back as they all inconspicuously sat back into their seats just in time for Michael to return with apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. If he suspected anything about the conversation between his daughter and his partner, he didn’t let on as they continued to make their way down the wedding checklist between delighted mouthfuls of pie.

The hours passed as they sat around the kitchen table picking out scripts for the invites, flowers for the ceremony, centerpieces for the reception, and favors for the wedding party. Allison stretched her arms over her head, soliciting several put off responses at the loud cracking noise her spine made. “Ew, yourself,” she joked as she rose from her spot at the table. As she moved toward the living room, she turned over her shoulder to suggest that they all take a break from hunching over the pages of options laid out in the binder. Everyone else seemed reluctant, not wanting to lose the momentum they’d already built up. Allison turned her back to them and made her way to the record player next to the couch. She carefully pulled a sleeve from the shelf and let it begin spinning before making her way back to the table where the others still sat.

As she passed through the doorway, the beats of “Heartbreak Hotel” sounded through the room and she swung her hips wide with the best Elvis impression she could manage. The overstated moves earned a laugh from her fiancée and wolf whistles from the two men seated across from her. Allison pulled Zoey from her seat and shimmied them back into the living room for a dance break, despite Zoey’s protests that they still had several items to work through. Allison assured her that’s why she needed a dance break and that they’d get back to it as soon as the record needed to be flipped over. To Allison’s complete delight, Zoey caved and danced with her until the bluesy tune faded into a familiar ballad.

Zoey turned toward the dining room to find that Calum and Michael had followed to watch them from the safety of the door. The two men stood as if they were made to fit together. Michael’s head rested perfectly on Calum’s shoulder and his hands splayed softly across Calum’s stomach under Calum’s hands. Even so, Zoey knew she still had her dad wrapped around her finger after all these years. She put on the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage and stretched out her arms before pleading with him, “The wedding’s still six months away, but I need to practice my dancing. Please, daddy, please.” His sheepish smile was bright in the low lamp light as he maneuvered around Calum. Michael placed a kiss to Calum’s smiling cheek as he squeezed through the door frame beside him. “You know I’ll never turn down a dance with my best girl,” he remarked as he took her in his arms. Calum, in turn, made a large sweeping motion as he bowed to Allison. “May I please have this dance?” Always a drama queen in every group. Allison laughed and took his hand, letting him lead her across the small room in an effort not to intrude on Zoey and Michael’s sweet moment.

Michael hummed along to the melody and his voice vibrated through his chest under Zoey’s head, sweeping a sense of nostalgia over her. “Dad?” she questioned as she lifted her head to look into his pale green eyes. They’d become even more pronounced over the years as the color faded from his hair, though he tried to hide behind the wide-rimmed glasses that stopped just above his full cheeks when he smiled. His eyes were slow to open and he only offered a hum in response. “What if we made this our father-daughter dance at the reception? I know it’s not a typical choice, but it would just mean a lot to me and -” Michael’s lips landed soft against Zoey’s forehead with a smile, immediately soothing her rambling mind. “I would love that, Z.”

Not trusting her mind and voice to work with her, Zoey simply nodded and nuzzled her head back into Michael’s chest, hugging him as close as possible. Michael’s smile grew as he tossed a glance across the room to where Allison and Calum swayed casually, lost in some giddy conversation if their expressions were any indication. With a contented sigh, he placed another kiss on top of Zoey’s curls. His voice was soft at first, only loud enough for Zoey to hear, but then it grew just enough to be heard over the record player as he sang.

“Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine. I'll be yours through all the years, ‘til the end of time. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

He couldn’t help watching Allison and Calum as they looked over fondly. Michael thought of all the times it was just him and Zoey against the world. Everything had changed so much since he lost her mom. He couldn’t believe how their little family had grown over the years and he was so proud of the life they’d made and the love they all shared. Michael tried not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as the last lines closed out.

———

taglist: @easierlftv @haikucal @mashlums @youngblood199456 @calumbroutledge @alltimesos @another-lonely-heart @castaway-cashton @itsjen223 @bloodyoathcal @vapor5sos @myloverboyash @justhereforcalum @karajaynetoday @spicycal @devilatmydoor

#my writing #michael clifford #michael clifford one shot #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford blurb #calum hood #malum #malum fluff #malum blurb #malum one shot #it only took me nine years and im sure it'll flop but at least it doesn't live in my head anymore lmao alsdkjfhlakjh #does this count as malum??? kind of???

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sophi-s · 3 years

Text

Silent Vigil

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 7,102

Characters: Abaddon, Astarte,

Warnings: Blood and gore, Graphic descriptions of violence, poisoning

Summary:

Life of a soldier in war is often dangerous. Every day may be the last. Even for the most skilled warriors. When a simple mission goes awry, Astarte realises how vulnerable her young and foolish heart truly made her.

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Another day of the never-ending war was slowly coming to an end in a cold, distant world, far away from Heaven's borders. In a snowstorm that came alongside dusk one could barely make out the well hidden shapes of tents in a makeshift camp the wandering squadron of angels had set up quite some time ago. The thick silence was only disturbed by wailing of the wind that brought to mind a sorrowful cry of a lone wolf. Heavy patches of snow were resting on top of the tents, hiding the amber glass underneath a thick white blanket.

Out of one of the smaller ones, a hooded figure emerges, wrapped up in a heavy winter coat with fur sewn into the edges. Their wings were folded back and tucked underneath the warm fabric to shield them from the ceaseless barrage of cold snowflakes and the ungodly cold. Wading knee-deep in snow, they swiftly cross the entirety of the camp like a spectre and step into the largest tent in the middle of it. Once inside, the hood is pulled back to reveal a head of dense platinum blonde hair falling around a smooth face of a female with brilliant white eyes flashing with determination of a warrior she is. Even when hidden from the elements and chilling winds, her breath was turning into white puffs slowly dissipating once they emerged from her parted lips.

Astarte brushes off the snow that still somehow managed to accumulate on her shoulders during her short walk and looks at another angel standing hunched above a map on a tabletop. But even bent over and not wearing his battle armor, he was of quite imposing height and stature. She smiles to herself sadly when he doesn't even notice her arrival and keeps grumbling something under his breath, still focused on the map. Unsurprisingly, he was still busying himself with strategizing. Astarte didn't know how long he'd been here without rest but she could bet her right hand he hadn't left ever since he dismissed her and the rest of his soldiers a couple of hours before. Part of her was actually glad that he is the one in charge and not she. Being a leader is a difficult and often tiresome task. Still, it doesn't mean she shouldn't support her general in his efforts. She's his lieutenant after all. That's her duty. And even if it wasn't, she would do so nonetheless as even her heart demanded her to be with him when he needs her. And in this moment he looked like he could use assistance.

"My Lord."

She greeted him, earning a glance of his piercing eyes, as cold as steel and as blue as the clear winter sky - hidden above their heads by thick, grey clouds - from underneath a crisp white fringe falling over his face. But the moment he realised it was her, the chill in his gaze faded and made place for warmth as a weary smile pulled at his mouth.

"No one is here, Astarte. There's no need for formality."

He replied and let his eyes linger on her for a couple more seconds before lowering them to the map between his hands resting on the table. Coming around it, Astarte stood beside him and looked at the plans under his careful scrutiny. They hadn't changed much from when she'd seen them last as he asked her to show what she'd learned and explain them to others. And this in itself was mildly concerning.

"Is there some kind of a problem, Abaddon?"

The archangel in question sighed and scratched the back of his neck, not taking his eyes off the map. After about a century under his command, Astarte knew Abaddon well enough to recognise apprehension in his mannerisms. He doesn't do that very often but when he does, usually a good reason exists. Leaning against the table as well, Astarte scans the entirety of the map to try and find the thing that made her commander and possibly future partner so uneasy. Unsuccessfully. There didn't seem to be a thing that should cause him distress. It was common knowledge in the White City that Abaddon was rather… paranoid to put it lightly. And in moments like this, it shows. Astarte didn't mind that but maybe now he's nervous just for the heck of it again.

"Not at all. And that's what doesn't seem right."

Astarte raised her eyebrow and looked up at him in confusion as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully before pointing at the map marked with small scribbled out notes in certain places with his whole hand.

"Look at it. There's nothing wrong with it! We've been after this artifact for months now and finally we - by a pure coincidence - find out about a group of demons which stumbled upon its location and is about to attempt retrieval? It's going way too smoothly for my taste. It can't be this easy.."

With a hum of affirmation, Astarte glanced down at the plan of the ruins, where the powerful demonic blade was supposedly hidden, again. The structure sat below the level of the terrain, two entrances and no other way out. A perfect place to ambush someone going in or out. About five days ago, a scouting party managed to capture a demon which tried to save its skin by revealing the location of the enchanted sword and the plan of its brethren who wished to get to it before Heaven does. The demon still perished but the information stayed. And at first it couldn't make Abaddon happier. Taking her and a group of thirty angels, the General of Heaven set out to intercept the demons and take over the artifact to make sure they don't use it against the White City. Now however, he seemed rather… frustrated, judging by the way he was drumming his fingers against the table. By now, they liquidated about half a dozen scouts and each provided at least some scraps of information they could put together to make a more or less clear image of their future task. For once, Astarte began to understand his concerns. There must be a catch. The question is "where?".

"You suspect some kind of a trick but if the artifact is really there, it's unacceptable to just leave it…"

"Exactly!"

Abaddon answered with a note of annoyance in his voice, still staring at the plan as though it had slighted him somehow. In a warrior's life nothing is ever easy. Astarte understood his doubts. Sometimes no words were needed to be spoken between them to reach this understanding. And that's why they were such a good team. All this really was going way too easily and it wasn't a surprise that he was so tense that the air around him seemed to turn heavy. She frowned, unhappy that this was one of those rare moments when she really wanted to help Abaddon but didn't know how. She despised this feeling. Unsure what else she could do, Astarte laid her hand on top of his, to at least try and offer him some semblance of peace of mind he needed.

"Standing here and glaring at the map won't make any difference. Try to rest."

With his eyebrows still furrowed in a worried frown, Abaddon shifted his hand under hers and curled his fingers around it.

"I am not sure if I can."

He murmured with resignation, failing to meet her eye. Now Astarte had no doubts as to how tired he really was. Abaddon rarely ever sounds like that. But true enough, if this unease stays with him, he might not be able to rest properly. That was just him. Utterly devoted to Heaven's cause, almost always putting duty on the first place. But right behind it, and often shifting places with it, was her. All it takes is the right word or the right touch. Letting go of his hand, Astarte rested her palm on his right cheek and leaned in to lightly brush her lips against his temple. His scowl immediately softened, his bushy eyebrows wandered slightly up his tattooed forehead and a corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a smile. Works almost every time..

Snapping his attention away from the blasted map, the archangel turned to Astarte with a sigh. He does that way too often when he feels uncertain. Still, this heaviness seemed to leave the atmosphere, a sign that she managed to fulfill the purpose she came here with, when she reached out to him and ghosted her fingertips against his cheek, simultaneously making him lean into her palm fondly. Moments later, Abaddon took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and pressed his warm lips to her knuckles red from the cold surrounding them. Looking at her with half-lidded, cerulean eyes, he met her gaze with that lively twinkle to them she knew so well from every time they had a moment together. She recognised that look. In spite of herself, Astarte smiled. Usually, she didn't really mind the open signs of affection when they were alone but they were in the middle of a frozen desert and on a very important mission.

"Abaddon, this really isn't the right time."

Astarte murmured as she put a hand on his mouth to stop him from proceeding when he began to inch closer to her, earning a slightly annoyed scowl from her Commander. She is his second-in-command and so her duty is to make sure he doesn't forget himself. But the thing is, Abaddon is one of the most stubborn creatures she'd known in all of Creation. The lengths he would go to get what he wants…

"May I remind you that you started it?"

He teased with a smirk clearly audible in the tone of his voice, making Astarte roll her eyes. She did, true, but they should stay focused on their task. There will be time for this once they accomplish what they came to this frozen hellhole for in the first place. Though, on the other hand… Ah, what's the point anyway? Astarte decided she will let him have this one if it helps him find peace tonight. I will have to relearn to stand up to him again… She thought as she lowered her hand right into his waiting palm.

The following kiss didn't surprise Astarte but still made her delightfully lightheaded. As it always does. Every next contact wasn't as exciting as the first one but still was sending the world around her spinning. Their romance was a badly kept secret, almost everyone in the White City knows by now, but it didn't feel any less thrilling than if they were actually secretly doing something forbidden. It wasn't uncommon for a general to be in relationship with his or her lieutenant.

"You too need your rest, Astarte. I'll need you to stay sharp tomorrow."

He breathed once he gave her her lips back far too soon and sadly Astarte knew he was right. Even if no deceit awaits them in those ruins, they all have to be on high alert. There's no joking around with demons. One of the first lessons Abaddon had taught her, back when she was still an overconfident and daring private who thought she could best anyone, him included.

"Very well. Goodnight to you, Abaddon."

"And to you, my love."

He offered as she pulled her hood up and walked out into the snowstorm to find a way back to her own tent, even though the cold made a small and quiet thought that "it would be much warmer if they stayed together and he surely wouldn't mind it" crawl its way into her head. There's no time for distractions. A difficult task awaits them tomorrow and they have to stay vigilant no matter what. The time will come after they succeed. Failure is out of question.

The Hellguard marched out of the camp before the first morning light. Time is of the essence and so they decided to waste none of it. Using the cover of the winter forest and the falling snowflakes, the angels quickly moved on foot not to draw the attention of demons which may be hiding somewhere around. Besides, flying was nigh impossible with the harsh, arctic wind tugging at them from every direction. Abaddon ordered to split the group to three, leaving one under the lead of Astarte, while he took the other two along.

It took an hour or so to arrive at the designated place. Indeed, the old ruins of a demonic outpost were half-concealed by nearby hills, the wilderness and by any plant life that has long crept inside. Built in a low spot, the structure was dark and ominous, radiating with sinister aura that could give creeps to even the bravest warriors. A dark presence lingered in the air, making this place seem even more grim and threatening. Astarte sneered slightly, a little at the freezing air seeping through her clothes and armor into her very bones, and a little at the discouraging atmosphere of this wretched place. The sooner they get this done with, the better.

Angels spread out and took their places to simultaneously have a good view of the ruins and good hiding spots from which one group could see the other two. With a silent sigh, Astarte frowned down at the ruins below her, constantly on alert for any movement. One minute passed. Two.. Five. Twenty. Nothing. Not a single soul. If the demons are truly inside then they are taking their sweet time. Just grand... She thought, already losing feeling in her toes and fingers. Wind kept wailing, the only sound that could be heard in this God-forsaken place.

Glancing about, Astarte furrowed her eyebrows. Something didn't feel right. There were no tracks of demonic clawed feet in over three mile radius, though it could be easily explained by demons using the Fallen which are capable of flight. But it didn't make her feel easier. No sounds, no signs of life. No wonder, what sane creature aside from a frost dragon would willingly make its home in this frozen landscape? The lack of any activity whatsoever also wasn't that strange when she thought about it. The wretched cowards can be hiding inside and waiting for the moody weather to calm down.

Still, a strange, unpleasant feeling was starting to rise in Astarte's gut. As though someone was… watching her. Just to double check, she scanned her surroundings in search of the source of this sensation. Nothing. Maybe paranoia is contagious? She chuckled inwardly. Her eyes fell onto Abaddon on the other side of the outpost, barely visible over the snow alongside his group. He wasn't looking at her, fully focused on his task. Of course. Why would he look at her now? This was something she shouldn't do either. Not when she should be on the lookout for their quarry.

However, just when Astarte was about to look back down, something in the distance caught her eye. For a brief second, she was absolutely certain she'd seen something that looked a lot like a tail swinging from a tree a couple of feet behind the other squad. A century or so ago, she would've ignored it, dismissed as her imagination. But it seems that paranoia really is contagious. And Abaddon taught her better than that. Astarte squinted at the object of her interest to try and make out more details. And her heart dropped to her heels.

Attached to what turned out to have been an actual tail, was a body of a slender demon coated in white fur, also dressed in white. To blend into the surroundings. Her experience told her. To her concern, once she noticed the first one, she suddenly started to spot more of them. All around. Stalking towards the unsuspecting angels focused on watching the ruins and something was telling her that the same was happening behind her own back. And that's when she felt a spike of dread jolt down her throat. The demon she initially spotted in the tree was holding something that looked a bit like a crossbow. And aiming at Abaddon's head from behind.

A realisation hit her that instead of the attackers, the Hellguard quickly turned into the attacked. Abaddon was right. This was trap! No clue how, but he knew. He has no idea, he won't notice the demon in time! She had to warn him somehow! To Hell with cover. Without a second thought, Astarte sprung up to her feet from where she was lying on her stomach half buried under the snow, sending a cloud of whiteness flying as she flared her rune-inscribed wings and yelled as loudly as her throat allowed her to before her vocal cords gave up.

"AMBUSH!!! "

In this very moment something heavy impacted with her back with a vicious roar, almost sending her toppling over the ledge. Were it not for her strength and the fact that she successfully avoided being surprised, Astarte stood her ground supporting herself with her spear to spare herself a painful fall just as her companions jumped out of their hiding spots to answer the demons with a counterattack. One of the younger angels under her command struck and killed the demon that pounced at her, one of the camouflaged white fiends she saw as she turned around, as bolts began to whizz through the air and screams of shocked angels intertwined with frustrated screeches of the Hellspawn.

Thanks to her quick reaction, the Hellguard swiftly entered defensive formations to face the ambushers. With a battle cry upon her lips, Astarte impaled one demon while her comrades were taking down others, trying to dodge or deflect the bolts. Why are they using crossbows? She wondered in spite of herself. Unfortunately, it wasn't the best time to ponder over their questionable choice of weapons. The dying demon on the end of her spear in its last act pulled itself further down the blade and almost onto the hilt, and desperately swung with its talons, tearing through her left arm before she could push it off.

With a pained sneer, Astarte tossed the now dead demon back at its brethren as she ordered her group to shift to offensive. The blood began to stain the spotless white snow in deep scarlet as more demons and, unfortunately, angels fell. But… something was unusual here. A second passed, two, three… and Abaddon was nowhere to be seen. Astarte doesn't get wounded often but when she does, it takes barely a beat for her commander to pretty much materialize out of thin air somewhere nearby to protect her, even if it is but a minor injury like this one. This time something was different. He most likely has problems of his own. She figured and led the charge against the fiendish warriors.

Oddly enough, the moment their ambush didn't work out, demons started to retreat as there was nothing more for them to achieve aside from losing more of their stealthy, lightly armored soldiers. And so, they fled just as quietly as they appeared, vanishing between the trees and in the snow.

Once the battle had ended, Astarte looked over the remaining angels. Previously she had ten. Now only five of them were unharmed while two more carried more or less serious wounds from blades and claws, often having crossbow bolts stuck in their armor. The other three… Astarte turned her gaze down and removed her helmet as her uninjured brethren did the same to pay respect to the fallen. She was well used to death but still. They were her brothers at arms. Angels she trusted and respected. After a moment, Astarte placed her headpiece back where it belonged and gripping her bleeding arm, she gave orders to her squad.

"Regroup. We need to evaluate the losses."

Taking a short flight, Astarte and the soldiers under her temporary command rejoined others. The Hellguard were still startled and disoriented, looking about in search of more attackers. Fortunately, to no avail. Astarte too was looking for something. Or rather someone when she couldn't see him anywhere at first. But barely seconds later she saw him. Sitting on the ground against a rock with two unnerved soldiers beside him, breathing heavily and unevenly, ashen face… He was keeping his hand over his chest. And sticking out from between his thumb and forefinger was.. Her eyes widened with fear…

A crossbow bolt.

Everything around Astarte halted as claws of horror, even colder than the snow and ice around her, got a hold of her heart which started to quiver in her chest. The demon still did manage to get Abaddon. Her warning came too late. And the bolt seemed to have been constructed in a way that made it very durable. The sharp projectile punched through Abaddon's breastplate without greater problems and now was stuck in his body.

"Abaddon!"

When she could move, she immediately rushed over to him, still unable to believe what had happened, and oblivious to her own injury fell to her knees beside him. Despite the pain that was apparently visible in his grimace, Abaddon turned his blue eyes at her with a frantic gleam in them.

"It… was a trap. I- I knew it! Astarte…"

He was interrupted by a harsh cough which caused blood to trickle out of the corner of his mouth. Talking clearly wasn't coming easily to him. Why would it, when he had a sharp bolt buried into his chest? Any incoming words were halted by Astarte putting her hand over his bloodied lips.

"Save your breath, my Lord."

She said, trying to keep her head cool despite the mounting panic in her throat, and took her eyes off his face to examine the wound. With his armor still on it was hard to determine the full extent of the damage but with how the bolt was positioned, Astarte could only imagine it may have punctured his left lung or damaged some vital blood vessels and she couldn't even extract it without risking causing further damage. Even as small as the wound was, it was dangerously near his heart that was surely pounding in his chest like crazy. The fact that there was barely any blood aside from that spilling steadily past his lips was hardly comforting. It could mean there's a much more severe internal bleeding. Hopefully not. Whether he likes it or not - which he most likely doesn't with how stubborn he is - Abaddon needed the help of a healer and needed it immediately.

"We have to move. There might be more of them nearby."

The Hellguard listened to Astarte without a moment of hesitation. She was the second in line to the position of a leader and Abaddon didn't seem like he was going to give orders any time soon. Astarte carefully pulled him up to his feet and hauled his arm over her own shoulders while other angels were gathering up those severely wounded and deceased in preparation to leave. As she was expecting, Abaddon grumbled in protest.

"I… can walk…"

"It doesn't mean you should."

With that, Astarte cut him off and it looked like he was not in the mood to argue with her. Neither did he have strength for it. The Hellguard moved out and left the cursed ruins behind. There was no doubt in Astarte's mind that there was no artifact here. This was just a bluff. A successful one unfortunately..

Even though there was hardly an hour of steady march between the ruins and their camp, for Astarte it felt like an eternity. With each laboured breath next to her ear and the weight of the injured archangel leaning against her shoulder slowly increasing, her agitation grew. But true enough, Abaddon did mostly walk on his own. At first. Not even fifteen minutes later, he was starting to get more sluggish and a faint tint of unhealthy green shaded his otherwise colorless face that should be tanned in warm tones. Still, he kept going. Until about half an hour later he stumbled, even though he was still supported by Astarte.

"I don't… I can't feel… my wings…"

He mumbled more to himself than anyone else, successfully getting his lieutenant's attention. True to his word, his wings were limply dragging behind him, motionless. And once she noticed that the light in his eyes had already faded and he's moments from slipping into unconsciousness, the panic returned. Her heart was hammering against her ribcage in despair. He was dying. She cannot lose him. Not him. Everyone but him.

"No… no, Abaddon! Don't fall asleep!"

She called desperately, making all of the angels to look back at them both with non hidden fright. Two Storm Heralds even rushed over to help as she held her commander who was very quickly losing his grip on life. With how heavy he was, Astarte had no other choice than to lower him to the ground. And she could feel how unnaturally warm under her hands his skin was. The camp is so close… He can't give up now! He can't… Just a little longer..

Don't close your eyes…

But despite her silent plea, her efforts to keep his head up and pull him back up… he did. His eyelids slipped closed, he ferociously fought to keep them opened but in vain. Even though Astarte was beginning to feel the shaking of her hands, she called to others.

"Help me get him up! We need to act quickly!"

The rest of the path to the campsite was a haze. Astarte remembered it like through a mist that clouded her senses and she wasn't even sure how and when she found herself in her own tent with Maral, an angel who was like a little sister to her, tending to the claw marks on her shoulder. Luckily, Maral herself wasn't injured in any way and she was the one to inform Astarte of the whole situation. Eight dead and ten injured in total. No artifact in sight. Not a very cheering perspective.. However, Astarte was only half paying attention to what Maral was saying. Her thoughts were elsewhere. In Abaddon's personal tent where he was brought to be taken care of about an hour ago. She was tapping her foot impatiently as Maral was getting her arm disinfected and wrapped up in bandages since there were only three healers in camp and two of them were injured too while the third one tended to the General.

"There. It should be mostly-... Hey! Where are you going?"

Astarte didn't really hear the call. After Maral was done with her wounds, she immediately stood up and walked out, heading to her General's tent, not caring about the cold anymore. Only one thought accompanied her on the way to her destination. Please, be alive... And please, stay that way... In the entrance she bumped into the aforementioned healer.

"Suriel. How is he?"

Judging by the grim expression Suriel bore, Astarte could tell she wasn't going to like what he was about to say. Of all angels, Astarte is rarely frightened. But this was one of those rare moments and she was glad she had her armor removed, because without a doubt it would clatter loudly, considering how much she was shaking. Don't tell me it's what I think it is.. She begged. Not a single part of her being was prepared to accept the fact that her beloved could be…

"He lives."

Not even the mightiest creature in the Universe could've stopped the loud exhale of relief that left Astarte the moment the news was revealed to her. However, it turned out she was too quick to rejoice.

"But he isn't well. The bolt.. although it did get to his lung that's not the main concern."

True enough, breathing isn't vital for angels to survive, though such an injury is rather inconvenient and if not healed properly can cause trouble in the future. But hearing that the punctured lung isn't the main concern immediately sent Astarte's heart back into frenzy before it could fully calm its pace.

"It was poisoned."

"Poisoned..?"

She echoed, already feeling increasingly dizzy from all this. Blessed Creator, please, let this chaos finally end... Of course the demons would poison their weapons! The fact why they were using crossbows became much clearer now. They lured the Hellguard out to try and take down its leaders. Bastards. Honestly, Astarte could consider herself lucky that she wasn't hit with one of the poisoned projectiles because without a shadow of a doubt she was one of the main targets as well.

"One of the killed demons had a vial of antidote in a knapsack but… the venom spread around his system very quickly. It will help. But that's all I could do. Lord Abaddon will have to battle the poison on his own until someone more experienced arrives."

It wasn't surprising that someone has already gone to the White City to call for help and deliver a report from the unsuccessful operation. Astarte could only hope either Abaddon will pull through or someone will get here to help him on time.

"Can I… see him?"

Suriel nodded. Astarte waited no longer and hesitantly peered inside of the tent. The sight that greeted her made her feel like her heart fell to pieces. No one had to say it out loud for her to realise that she wasn't ready for what awaited her. On a cot under coverlets in the far end of the tent, was him. Abaddon. Her beloved.. And he looked like a corpse. Still, unmoving, pallid skin… his eyelids and lips were in a blueish-purple hue. A blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around his chest and a wet piece of folded cloth rested on his forehead. Droplets of sweat were rolling down his face, shining in the gloom like crystals, as he heaved in shallow breaths.

Biting down on her lower lip, Astarte walked up to the cot and sat down on a stool beside it. Beside her love and light. The light that was now struggling to keep burning, fighting the deadly poison coursing through his veins. Up this close, she could plainly see how unwell he really was.

Abaddon was always the strongest of the heavenly warriors. Unbreakable. Someone Astarte looked up to ever since he quite literally took her under his wing when Malahidael couldn't deal with her overconfidence and lack of respect. Those were ones of her most cherished memories.. And now? It seemed all it would take was so much as sneezing in his direction to send his soul plummeting into the Well. Seeing him like this.. weak, broken and vulnerable… it made Astarte feel small and insignificant.

A choked huff that slipped past Abaddon's chapped lips as his whole body shivered violently, did very little to calm Astarte down. Her heart sank, corners of her mouth sagged sadly, when his eyelids twitched and his upper lip peeled back to reveal his teeth. Hesitantly, she reached out to him and ran her fingers through his white hair as he kept thrashing about in his feverish sleep and muttering.

"To- to me, Hellguard... As- Astarte… where are you..?"

"I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere…"

She whispered and leaned down to place a kiss to his trembling lips. Not going anywhere. Gently brushing her fingers against his cheek, hot like fire, she kept talking to him softly until his shivers eased and he fell into a much deeper and calmer sleep. She wasn't going to leave him. Not now. Not when he needs her the most. Not when she needs him..

For the next three days or so there was no change whatsoever. Abaddon kept drifting in and out of consciousness, delirious with scorching fever - sometimes weakly calling Astarte's name - and barely aware of anything happening around him. And he wasn't getting better. Astarte stayed at his side, silent and hopeful. His lieutenant hadn't moved from her place even if either Maral or someone else came over and proposed to change her in her shift so that Astarte may rest, to which the answer was "I'm not going to be able to sleep anyway.". She was helping with changing bandages and making sure the cloth on his forehead remains cool. The latter part was rather frustrating as the water in the basin next to the cot kept freezing over and with her nerves already in shreds Astarte barely held back from angrily lobbing it across the tent.

All the time she spent at Abaddon's side she was begging him to wake up, open his eyes and look at her. And every time he was shifting from uneasy delirium to numb unconsciousness she died a little bit inside out of fear that this time his heart may have given up.

"This has to be a nightmare…"

She once muttered to herself clutching Abaddon's motionless hand which felt like heated in a fire, hoping in vain that his grip will tighten any second now.

"And this is my fault.."

No words were able to put her mind at ease. The blame was rightfully on her, even though no one told her outright "It's because of you. You've failed him." She just convinced herself that it's the truth. Her duty was to protect Abaddon when he wasn't able to do so on his own. And despite Suriel, Maral and many others saying that it's a good thing she reacted so quickly, because were it not for her warning it could've ended much worse, the overwhelming feeling of guilt still remained.

And after those three days of emotional torment none other than the archangel Raphael arrived at the camp, carrying a message from the Council of Angels, ordering those injured who can be safely moved to return to the City. Without any exceptions. And that meant Astarte as well. But her Commander was to stay at the camp until he's cleansed of the vile venom threatening his life since there was a risk he would not survive this journey.

Astarte knew that she's leaving Abaddon in good hands. If anyone could help him, it would be the head healer of the White City. Still, she felt guilty for being forced to abandon him. Alongside a group of wounded angels, she left for her home with a heavy heart. All she could do was wait, harboring a feeling she found absolutely horrible. Helplessness. Wanting to act, feeling the need to, but being incapable of doing so. She should be with him, not hiding behind the White Gates! This was her duty. She swore to stand beside him no matter what. And now, the Council of Angels made her break this vow.

The next few days Astarte spent living in a lucid dream. A nightmare to be more accurate. Praying for Abaddon to pull through. She found herself often staring into the void, thinking. She missed his voice, his reassuring presence. His touch… Where is he? Is he alright? He has to be… Doesn't he? Of course he does! He's been through much worse more than once already. One bolt, even coated in noxious substance can't be enough to put him down. Unless… This was the thought that kept torturing Astarte. This "unless". After all, she'd seen how bad it was. How even with the antitoxin her Commander seemed to continue to slip away. Whatever the demons used, it must've been a truly horrendous poison..

When a week of solitude has gone by, reality started to sink in. It was taking too long already. Abaddon should've been healed by now. His absence could only mean… No! Raphael wouldn't fail. It's impossible! He can't be dead. Can he…? And even if so, the word about the demise of Abaddon of all people should have already been spread around the White City. But instead.. nothing. No news. Silence. Eventually, in this uncertainty and lack of any signs from anyone who remained at the camp, Astarte slowly started to believe, even though her heart screamed in denial. Sitting on the side of her bed in her home, she stared at her own boots, seconds ticked by, each lasting way longer than it should. What if he is gone? What is she going to do?

The Council will name her the next leader of the Hellguard without a doubt. All of Abaddon's responsibilities will be passed down to her. Maybe she will be able to forget if she keeps herself busy? She should've known that falling in love was a bad idea. Both she and Abaddon are warriors. Even with their unmatched skill, it was only a matter of time before one of them fell. But what could she do about it? He taught her so much, gave her all his knowledge and even offered his own heart that remained cold and stern for anyone but her. This last gift she could not reject as her own soul yearned to be close to him after everything he'd done for her. She couldn't win with it. Even though she tried her best once. Before she knew what he felt. Before… everything. She missed those times when Abaddon was no one else to her than her Commander perfectly capable of kicking her butt in any sparring to make sure she stays in line...

A quiet sound of opening doors caught her attention and made her head snap up. It was so sudden and unexpected that she felt a jolt of fear in her stomach. But with this fear came a shy ray of hope. Only one angel in the entire City walked into her house without knocking and only because she said he doesn't have to because he'd always be welcome. A rustle of feathers as a pair of wings beat once, a barely audible thud right behind the door to her bedroom. The doorknob moved. Slowly turned around and soon in the crack of the door, a pair of familiar blue lights appeared. Her heart hastened and her eyes grew wide like saucers. Could it… be true? Her hopes faded soon enough when she realised that it was probably just Azrael coming again to try and console her and her imagination is merely playing tricks on her. But the voice she heard seconds later made her heart skip a beat.

"Astarte?"

Still rather pale and swaying lightly on his legs, his eyes dull and devoid of their shine, Abaddon stepped into her room with relief painted across his face once he saw her before him. Words couldn't describe what was happening in her head at this moment. On the one hand she was absolutely ecstatic. He's alive. He hasn't left her despite the gravity of his recent condition. But on the other hand, she felt angry. Where was he all this time? Why was he keeping her in the dark? Not even a word when she was here already mourning and thinking how she should tackle becoming a leader all of the sudden. Jumping up to her feet, Astarte rushed over to him, closing the distance in one beat of her wings, just as he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. Only to retract in shock once her palm loudly met his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. However, Abaddon didn't have time to react in any way aside from looking at Astarte with disbelief before she threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down into a kiss.

"You are giving mixed signals."

He chuckled, oblivious to the red handprint forming on his cheek once Astarte pulled away to glare daggers at him.

"I thought I lost you! Again! Don't ever do that to me!"

She yelled at him, respect towards superiors be damned. In all of her life she'd never been so scared. She remembered one time when Abaddon did get severely wounded but he quickly got out of this. Now it was three times as bad. Back then she could've at least stayed with him. Astarte didn't feel sorry for that slap to the face, the bastard had it coming for a long time now. And it seemed that he was well aware he deserved that one.

"Forgive me. I'll do my best never to let something like that happen again. Is there a way to make up for it?"

Angels don't cry. It's not like they aren't fully equipped to do so, they just… don't. Especially warriors. It doesn't suit a warrior to cry. If they do however, for good reasons. And Astarte felt she was on the verge of snapping, her vision turned misty as tears were forcing its way into her eyes. But no. She refused to fall apart, especially in front of her Commander. Looking up at him and fighting the tremble in her voice, she answered so quietly it might seem she didn't really meant to say that out loud. But he did hear it.

"Stay with me… And don't let go.."

His hands came up to her cheeks and he looked her deep in the eye with a soft smile on his face. The first tear had fallen once he pressed his forehead against hers and sighed contentedly before fully closing the distance and laying his lips on hers.

"Here, tonight.. your wish is my command."

He replied and encased her in a comforting embrace, holding her head against his chest as though to show her he's still here. And the steady heartbeat below her ear made her cry out in relief. If she's dreaming, then she doesn't want to ever wake up again. No.. this heartbeat felt far too real.

Perhaps it would've been seen as improper, but she had to make sure. Astarte reached out with her shaking hand to him and Abaddon didn't stop her as she peeled back the collar of his tunic to expose the bandage still concealing the wound he suffered from recently. Her hand carefully rested over it. He felt real. It was no dream. The nightmare has come to an end. He's here. Safe.. For this short moment, they both are.

For once in the ceaseless conflict between Heaven and Hell, Astarte could feel at peace and so could he. Just to seek reassurance, she placed the pads of her fingers on his throat to feel his pulse. To feel that he's truly with her, alive, holding her close, folding his wings around her.. and that this night he isn't going anywhere.

--------------------------------------------------

Idk, I just wanted to draw something and this happened in turn 😆

Also, I can't draw Astarte's face to save my life 😂

It's weird, I know, but I wanted to do something for Valentines. Back into the cringe abyss I go.

#darksiders #darksiders genesis #fan art #darksiders abaddon #darksiders astarte #abaddon #astarte #demons #my art #fan fiction #my fic #my writing #I wrote it three times 😂#yikes #cringe

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queencarolinemikaelson · 4 years

Text

A Mystery Never Fully Explained

//Klaroline AU Week// - Day 1 - All Human AU

There really was no two ways about it, Klaus Mikaelson was a diva.

A prima donna, even.

There was an urban legend in the theatre industry that once, while rehearsing his role as Beast in Beauty and the Beast, Klaus opted to sit his dressing room, rather than ‘save’ his leading lady from the wolf attack at the beginning of act two.

“I was just throwing the moron to the wolves,” Klaus allegedly said smugly, to the rightly irate director.

Yep, he was biggest drama queen in the theatre industry.

All who worked with him agreed Klaus was actually a soprano in a baritone’s body. Though they would never say it to his face. Nope, to his face, all were perfectly lovely.

Because, no matter how many three-year-old-esque tantrums he threw, or crazy demands he slung at a company, or assistants he fired, Klaus Mikaelson was still the best.

Contemptuous he may have been until the very last second, but once he was under the spotlight, he was magic.

No note, nor line was missed. His honey voice caressed every ear like a lover. His impeccable acting could bring to life every character from King Herod to Jean Valjean.

So naturally, when casting for a reinvigorated West End production of Phantom of the Opera, whom else was to set to play the titular character?

Rehearsals certainly weren’t easy for the crew.

The nature of the show meant already two divas needed to be cast for the roles of Christine and Carlotta. How were they to cope with a third.

But they had managed to make it to opening day without too many scuffles until –

“What the bloody hell do you mean Bonnie’s in the hospital!?” Klaus roared. “Who is going to do my make up?”

“Have some compassion, Niklaus!” Elijah, Klaus’ brother – who also happened to be his manager, (and what was more pertinent, the only one who could make any sense of a tantrumming Klaus) – sighed. “She is in the hospital, after a car accident!”

“We are opening in three and a half bloody hours, Elijah! I refuse to have my Phantom butchered by some blonde-bimbo-beauty-school-drop-out, playing face paint, just because Bonnie decided to have an accident!”

“Oh be reasonable,” Elijah snapped, though made the mental note to tell Ms Bennett just how indignant Klaus was about working with anyone else. Surely that was some vote of confidence? “She was hit by a car!”

Klaus glowered, but didn’t return fire. Even Klaus, diva or not, knew car accidents were bad.

“There are two options,” Elijah said, after both men had a moment to calm themselves. “You can have your makeup done by the associate head of make up. This will require you to leave your dressing room, and join some of the other cast members.”

“I don’t mingle with the peasants, Elijah,” Klaus pouted, petulantly. “They chatter and natter about inane things, and I cannot focus on what is important. Which is the work!”

“Fine! The second option is you trust Bonnie’s substitute. A Ms Caroline Forbes, currently the head of artistry on Broadway’s Phantom of the Opera.”

Klaus rolled his eyes intensely. He hated Broadway. He hated working on Broadway. And with people who worked on Broadway. And just people in general, but that was beside the point.

“Brother, my feelings about Broadway aside, I’m not sure if you’ve seen a globe recently. But this is London. Not New York City.”

It was Elijah’s turn to roll his eyes – honestly maybe it was time to quit, and live as far away from Klaus as possible.

“I’m well aware of the geography, Niklaus,” Elijah groaned, rather uncharacteristically. “Ms Forbes, an old friend of Ms Bennett, is currently visiting London. Had tickets for tonight’s show, in fact, so is very well placed to aid us tonight.”

“Fine,” Klaus grumbled, after a moment of contemplation – though there wasn’t much to contemplate, no make up was so bad that he would endure the blather of other cast members. “This Broadway woman will have to do. But I refuse to be pleasant to her.”

“I would expect nothing more of you, Niklaus.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door of Klaus’ dressing room.

“Ahh, that will be her.”

“You did not just approve her to come backstage before consulting me brother!” Klaus growled.

“Well,” Elijah said, buttoning his suit jacket as he stood up, an air of finality in his tone. “As you so eloquently put it, brother you’re ‘opening in three and a half bloody hours’, there really isn’t any time for your arguments.”

Elijah strode away from the sulking Klaus, and greeted the woman on the other side of the door.

“Ms Forbes,” he said politely. “Please come in, and thank you so much for this, the company is indebted to you.”

“Please, call me Caroline,” Klaus heard a bright, cheery voice say, though she was still blocked from his sightline. “Anything for Bonnie!”

“And how is she after the accident?”

“Shaken,” the woman said, her bubbly voice suddenly laced with worry. “Her injuries are mostly superficial, but her arm will be in plaster for the next few weeks.”

“I see,” Elijah said, before they both came round the corner, and Klaus was able to get a good look her for the first time. “This is Niklaus.”

“Hi!” she said, smiling a smile so bright, he should have been wearing sunglasses. “Caroline.”

She held out her hand for him to shake, but Klaus just looked spitefully at it, before looking away.

Klaus couldn’t believe his misfortune. She was a blonde bimbo.

“Right,” Caroline said, a little disheartened, as she withdrew her hand.

“Anyway, Miss Forbes, I’m terribly sorry, but I have to dash. The world does not cease for Niklaus, although he’d like to believe it would. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

The two of them chuckled together, much to Klaus’ chagrin, and then Elijah left, the same way Caroline had just arrived.

“So,” Caroline said, sitting herself daintily beside him. “You and Bonnie have been working on some pretty cool techniques for your look.”

Klaus said nothing, just stared pointedly at her.

“She took me through her plans for tonight, anything you –”

“We actually open very soon, and I would very much appreciate it if you just got on with it,” Klaus snipped. “Though try not to talk, love. It will be a bit painful otherwise.”

“There’s no need to be rude,” she said, as she raised her eyebrows coolly. “I was just going to ask, if there’s anything you wanted to tell me before you get started. Latex allergy, warm ups that need doing, that kind of thing.”

“No, nothing to share,” he muttered. “And as if I would need to do warm ups.”

“Okay!” Caroline said brightly, trying to ignore his cockiness. “Then let’s get –”

“I do warm up, but not near the help,” Klaus interrupted. “If you want a free show then go back to Broadway.”

“Yep, I get the picture. I’m just going to –”

“Urgh, the quality of Broadway is nothing on the talent of those of us on West End.”

“Mmhmm, I understand, Broadway is the worst. But please –“

“In fact, I swear Broadway casting directors just goes to Times Square and nab any old riff-raff street performer to make up their ensembles. It’s lunacy _”

“Uh huh, I get it, Broadway suck, but Klaus I really –“

“I’m literally the best in the country. I have won multiple tony awards, even a grammy award. I have more original cast recordings under my belt than –”

In years to come, Caroline would swear herself black and blue that it was an accident. That it was a mere, yet mildly severe, slip of the hand brought about by loss of concentration because of Klaus’ continual ramblings.

And she would never live it down. But she would also be revered by many because she actually managed to make Klaus Mikaelson shut the hell up for once in his life.

For, at that exact moment, Caroline’s deft hands wiped fast drying liquid latex over Klaus’ mouth, and Klaus, who was completely stunned by the movement, did not move quickly enough before the latex dried.

Sealing it completely shut.

“Oh my god, Klaus, I’m so sorry!” Caroline said, with all the correct emotions. She certainly sounded convincingly mortified, until she followed up the with a quirked eyebrow and the comment, “though, try not to talk, love. It will be a bit painful otherwise.”

And, to Caroline’s amazement, Klaus stopped squirming, stopped trying to form words when his amplifier was completely blocked, and Caroline was finally able to get to work.

“What a happy little accident,” Caroline said, jovially, now a little more at ease that he wasn’t being so obnoxious. “Might just snap a little picture, I’m sure Elijah would appreciate it.”

Klaus narrowed both his eyes at her.

“Oh? Don’t like that idea?”

Klaus just remained stock still, the menacing look still etched on his face.

“But you are so cute when you’re not talking!” Caroline joked, before quickly realising what she said, and going a lovely shade of magenta.

Somehow, Klaus managed to smirk, even without full use of his mouth.

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Caroline said, with all the bravado of someone trying to dig themselves out of a hole. “You know you’re cute, why deny it?”

Klaus just shrugged, and dismissively inspected his nails.

“Fine, let’s get on with it,” Caroline said. “And if you’re a good sport, I’ll dissolve the latex before it’s time to sing!”

xxx

“All done!” Caroline beamed, happily inspecting her work.

It was a little under two hours since Caroline began Klaus’ transformation, and a little under twenty minutes since she freed him from his gag.

In the past twenty minutes, even though he had the option of railroading her for having the audacity to seal his damn mouth shut, Klaus found himself, funnily enough, keeping his damn mouth shut.

Experiencing Caroline as she worked was rather mesmerising.

She certainly wasn’t anywhere near just a blonde-bimbo-beauty-school-drop-out as he feared. She was very talented, extremely precise, and had an almost unparalleled eye for detail.

But further than that, at any given moment, her face was liable twist and change, letting him know exactly what was going on. It was rather endearing.

She filled the silence in with bits of chatter, about the different steps she was up to in his transformation, about her life, and just about many inane things really.

And, though Klaus despised the inane, coming from Caroline it felt natural and a little bit lovely.

“You do look fantastic,” Caroline said, proudly, spinning him around in his chair so he could more closely inspect her work. “Definitely like a weird dungeon dweller who’d fall in love with beautiful young things who sing to you!”

“Then you nailed the brief love,” Klaus quipped. “I don’t recognise myself.”

“Well, I would be worried if you did!” Caroline giggled, squeezing his shoulder briefly. “Then you would have to admit to me that you’re a weird dungeon dweller who’d fall in love with beautiful young things who sing to you!”

“I’d never admit it, love,” he said nonchalantly. “Though, I have to say sincerely, your work is impeccable. Bonnie’s work is excellent, but you’ve provided just an extra spritz of something else.”

“Not bad for a Broadway babe, huh?” Caroline winked, nudging him with her hip.

“Not bad at all.”

In that moment of eye contact that so often follows a tease, Caroline was stolen by the glint in Klaus’ eye.

“So umm,” she said, looking away. “Where to next for you, Mr Phantom, sir?”

“Warm up, last minute director notes, back here for a costume and touch ups.”

“I’ll stay here until you’re ready for your touch ups.”

“I look forward to it.”

And with a wink, Klaus was off.

xxx

A few hours later, Caroline was back in front of Klaus’ face, tenderly wiping away the residual make up.

The show had gone off seamlessly. And honestly, Klaus was so completely on cloud nine by how it all went, he was actually being pleasant to those around him.

And now he was with Caroline again, and that was a joy in and of itself. Though he’d never ever admit it to anyone.

Klaus couldn’t help noting how soft and delicate Caroline’s fingers, and the stroked along his skin at different places.

“Nearly done,” Caroline murmured, concentrating on removing a particularly stubborn strip of latex. “Nearly done.”

“Not a problem, love,” Klaus said, absently. “This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in months.”

“Opening night behind you,” she replied. “That’s got to be a relief.”

“Mmm.”

He shut his eyes, and felt himself get mildly lost in the sensations, until –

“Klaus,” she said, softly.

“Mmm?”

“We’re finished.”

“Oh.”

“Umm,” Caroline said, searching for something to say. “I guess I’m done for the night, unless…”

“Unless?” Klaus prompted.

“Well, I’m really hungry, but I don’t know where is any good around here…”

“Are you asking me out?” Klaus smirked.

“What! No?” Caroline blustered. “I mean, I am asking you to go out, but not out. Not like on a date out.”

“Glad to hear you’re so indignant at the idea of a date with me,” Klaus teased in mock offence.

“I’m not indignant! Dating you would be fun, I think! But this wasn’t a date! I’m just hungry, and I thought you would be too!”

“Dating me would be fun would it?”

“Oh shut up. I’m leaving.”

Caroline grabbed her coat and huffily stalked from the room.

“But you’re hungry, and don’t know where to eat,” Klaus grinned, hurriedly gathering his own things so he could follow her out.

“I can google it, I just thought company might be nice,” she snipped. “Glad you arrested me of my illusions so promptly.”

“You wound me, love!” he laughed, catching her hand in his, and stroking a thumb along it gently – apparently her skin was as soft under his hands, as it was on his face. “Come on, let me take you to my favourite post show hang out. You’ll love it.”

Caroline stopped walking, and narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Not a chance, love,” Klaus quipped.

Caroline couldn’t help the wry smile stretch across her lips.

“Fine.”

And so it was, the two went to that post show hang out that night. And the night after that. And the one after that. Until Caroline had to leave, back to her home, back to Broadway.

And, in a mystery never fully explained, Klaus put aside his distaste for the iconic New York creative hub, and somehow ended living in New York, reprising his role as the Phantom on Broadway, only a few short months later. Before going on to perform many more incredible shows there.

It was a mystery.

Unless you were familiar with Caroline Forbes.

Then it wasn’t much of a mystery after all.

xxx

This prompt came from ~somewhere~ literal years ago! “You’re the one person who can do my elaborate stage makeup so every night you spend half an hour in close proximity to my face and I am distressed”. I started writing this in 2015, and it finally was in a state that was nice and shareable. Hope you enjoyed! Happy AU week klaroliners!

#klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fandom #klaroline drabble #kcauweek2020 #cheesecake's chook scratchings #all human au

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halictus-writer · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Seattle (Ch. 4 of 5)

Remus woke early the next morning, feeling energetic. He brewed a fresh pot of coffee and sat down at his table/desk combination to work on his novel. Safely wrapped in an oversized sweater, he opened the window to let the fresh cold morning air in. It wasn’t until he had settled comfortably into a workflow and even lit a cinnamon-scented candle before he remembered that he should probably still be upset over being blown off from a dinner date last night.

Instead, he felt strangely at peace. Going to the Italian restaurant, laughing with Sirius, and eating pizza had seemed to wash away his troubles, and he wasn’t going to complain if it took a surprisingly short amount of time to feel normal again. After writing a chapter and a half, it was time to leave for his breakfast with the girls.

As Remus walked out of his apartment building, he tossed his jacket over his shoulder and almost skipped down the sidewalk–– tiramisu safely in hand–– with joy. Something about the day just felt good.

Walking into the breakfast nook, he spotted his friends already seated at a table.

“Marls! Dorcas!” He greeted them warmly, giving each of them a side-hug.

Dorcas responded with a “Hey, babe!” While Marlene fixed him with a look.

“You,” she said, index finger pointing at his chest, “are absolutely glowing.”

Remus’s cheeks began to turn red, a lingering side effect of any attention whatsoever being directed towards him. His smile stayed in place though. “What, no I’m not.”

“Why do you look so happy?”

“Also,” he drew out the word, talking over Marlene, “I brought you a gift!” Remus handed over the box containing last night’s tiramisu, previously concealed by his jacket.

“Oh my god, this looks so good.” Dorcas said, eyeing the dessert.

Marlene started to close the box again when Dorcas made a noise of protest. “What?” She asked, laughing. “We have to wait until after we eat breakfast.”

“No we most certainly do not, we are adults!” Dorcas protested, and reopened the box.

Conversation flowed comfortably between the three of them, updating each other on the events of the past week. For every minute of serious conversation, there seemed to be two more of random banter, staccatoed with flicking straw wrappers and play-fighting when Dorcas or Marlene wanted to prevent the other from telling a funny story at the expense of her girlfriend. After Marlene all but tackled Dorcas to successfully pass her phone to Remus–– displaying a video of a wine-drunk Dorcas driving backwards in Mario Kart, her face dropping in shock when Marlene’s voice from behind the camera points out that she is in last place–– they got disdainfully frowned at from a tourist family and an old married couple. James would have been proud.

Eventually, Dorcas brought the conversation back to Remus’s cancelled date. “So, Marls is right, you are glowing, and I love that, but tell us about last night. You don’t seem upset about it?”

Remus shrugged. “Well, yeah, I mean it sucked waiting around for the dinner date that never happened, but if it wasn’t meant to be then there’s really no use losing sleep over it, I suppose.”

Dorcas looked mildly impressed by his answer.

“Plus, I salvaged the evening by treating myself to pizza at the Italian restaurant right by my apartment. That’s where your pre-breakfast dessert hailed from.”

Marlene looked at the now-empty to-go box in surprise. “Wow, I love how we just devoured that and didn’t even ask you where it came from. I don’t think I even said thanks?”

“Don’t worry babe, we were doing him a favor. Remus hates soggy cake.” Dorcas stated confidently.

Remus laughed. “You’re welcome,” he said, looking only at Marlene. “But yeah, I wish the waiter knew that about me. I would be totally happy with any other free dessert, but I guess tiramisu is their specialty or something.”

“Wait, hold on,” Marlene paused. “Are you saying you didn’t buy this for us? I’m withdrawing my belated thanks.”

“No, no, wait hold on, but to the other part of that sentence,” Dorcas said. “Are you saying a waiter gave you a free dessert?”

“Yeah, he kind of always does.”

“Wait, is he like, flirting with you?”

“No!” Remus said, assuredly, but his cheeks turned warm anyway.

“He gave you a free dessert. He has given you multiple free desserts? That is definitely flirting.”

Remus wanted to protest this statement, somehow, but all he could come up with was a strangled sort of noise.

Marlene seemed encouraged by his obvious embarrassment. “Oh my god, you’re going to fall in love and make babies with the help of modern science. Your baby is going to like tiramisu and be born with the personality of an old man. Half you and half waiter boy.”

“What’s his name what’s his name what’s his name,” Dorcas parroted, poking him in the arm with each question.

“Absolutely not.” Remus answered. Having already witnessed Dorcas’s impressive online stalking skills, he wasn’t about to give her a name as unique as Sirius. “Besides, uh,” his tone softened, “honestly I think he only brings me desserts because he feels sorry for me.”

Dorcas’s playful smile dropped. “Oh, Remus,” she began, “don’t sell yourself short.”

Marlene nodded with her, but mercifully changed the subject a minute later.

***

Remus shifted in his seat as his phone vibrated once, signifying an incoming text message. He was in his daily meeting with the other writers for the newspaper. They had just wrapped up the business side of the meeting, and had moved on to the fun side: presenting the best (worst?) reader comments from their online stories.

“Okay, okay, my turn,” the room quieted as Minerva spoke up. She was one of the older writers, and had been at the paper for almost ten years now. Everyone respected (and possibly feared) her, but Remus had immediately connected with her after they locked eyes during a lunch break to discover that they were both reading the newest Margaret Atwood novel and sipping Earl Grey tea. “On my article covering the shopping mall that tried to prevent breastfeeding in public, Ken M. wrote ‘aside from being completely unnecessary, breastfeeding encourages babies to objectify women.’”

The room burst into laughter, and Remus took the opportunity to subtly check his phone. Sure enough, it was Roy, the man he had been messaging for the last few days, and had even moved from Tinder’s chat platform to real texting. He smiled, but turned the phone to Do Not Disturb until the meeting was over.

“Ken M. strikes again!” Someone else announced.

“Ken M. deserves his own column, I swear.” A voice from the back of the room chimed in. “This man comments something completely ridiculous on every post. On my piece on updated bus routes he got into an argument with someone else, and I didn’t read all the comments to know how it got there, but Ken M. ended their dispute with, and I quote, ‘God is a ridiculous myth.’”

Remus laughed along with his coworkers, and took a moment to enjoy the fun banter. He loved his job for his career, but also enjoyed the little positive moments that arose from his sudden move to the big city: meeting Minerva, discovering the infamous Ken M., and laughing along with his coworkers during a meeting. His old job had been at a small newspaper where the main source of workplace laughter was Remus silently laughing at the incompetence of his coworkers, not his readers.

As the meeting ended and people began to file out of the room, he pulled out his phone. Roy told Remus he wanted to take him to his favorite restaurant on Saturday night, and Remus happily agreed to meet him in front of the Pike Place Market neon sign at 6:30. The restaurant was a short walk from there, and Remus was glad he didn’t have to awkwardly refuse getting into the car with someone he didn’t know on a first date.

I want the restaurant to be a surprise, Roy had sent, but do you have any dietary restrictions? Remus appreciated his foresight, and answered with, I’m vegetarian, but I eat pretty much anything otherwise! Remus took a moment to smile dopily after receiving a quick response: perfect.

Remus was excited for the date. Roy was very handsome, with curly blond hair, soft blue eyes, and dimples. He was also, if his profile was to be trusted, very accomplished.

***

The date was horrible. Roy kept most of the conversation centered on himself and his many achievements. Remus noticed that his eyes were actually brown, and while Remus had nothing against brown eyes, seeing as he had a pair of them himself, he couldn’t help but feel weirded out by the fact that Roy, or Gilderoy, as he referred to himself in the third person, had taken the time to edit or filter his eye color in all of his online photos.

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Remus had already reminded himself over and over that it was just one date, and that even if it was disappointing, he would have a good story to tell later, and he didn’t feel unsafe at all. His friends had his phone’s location, and Dorcas had already assured him that she would “track down and throw from the Space Needle” any man who tried to harm Remus.

Remus tried to muster a polite smile as Roy told him about his obviously fabricated second meeting with Oprah, but his smile completely dropped when he read the front of his menu. They were at a steakhouse.

Their waitress approached, saving Remus from whatever monologue he was about to be subjected to. “What can I get started for you guys tonight?” She sounded bored, which Remus was willing to credit her for, as he understood working in the food industry was not exactly glamorous, but he still stupidly thought of Sirius’s excitement as he waited tables.

Roy had the nerve to try to order for Remus. Remus cut him off and appealed to the waitress. “I’m sorry, I realize you probably don’t get that many vegetarians here, but are there any vegetarian menu items?”

“You’re vegetarian?” The waitress said in surprise.

Remus didn’t expect that response, but he turned directly to Roy as he answered, “yes.”

***

An hour later, Remus was finally free of Roy. The aggravating man had offered to pay for the whole meal, with a public brandishing of his multiple credit cards, but Remus insisted they split it, just to ensure that no one thought he owed him anything. Remus wanted to never see this man again, and if that meant paying for half of a check that consisted of one expensive filet mignon and one cheap side salad, then it was well worth it.

Remus said goodbye in the midst of the Public Market, and then walked away. The last thing he wanted to do was get walked home by the insufferable man and have to listen to him, or worse, have to listen to him invite himself upstairs. As he walked home, he blocked Roy’s phone number, for good measure, and deleted the Tinder app from his phone. He dully realized that if he wanted to deactivate his account for good he would need to redownload the app first, but the symbolism felt nice in the moment.

Composure carried Remus inside his apartment building and up the stairs, but after finally locking his door behind him, he started crying. It was stupid really, and thinking that the idiot he wasted one evening with was making him cry only made him cry harder. His tears were out of frustration more than sadness.

He was frustrated that he couldn’t find a decent man on Tinder. He was frustrated that some asshole took him to a fucking steakhouse after knowing he was a vegetarian. He was frustrated because for whatever reason, he was alone on a Saturday night, again, and he very well may be alone on all future Saturday nights, because his ex-boyfriend decided that he didn’t love him anymore. What was even worse to think about, somehow, was that Remus didn’t even want his ex-boyfriend back. It would be so simple, he thought, to simply miss him, and hope that he would change his mind, and Remus could move back to his little college town and get his old job back at the small newspaper and compromise his life away. But he didn’t even want that anymore. Instead, he had to navigate the world not knowing if there was anyone that he could build a life with, all the while wasting his time on losers like Roy. And he was frustrated because he was hungry, having eaten only a small side salad for dinner.

Fueled by hunger and frustrated tears, he got up, grabbed his journal and pocketed a pen, made a halfhearted effort to wipe the tears from his face, and didn’t bother to change out of his date clothes before he headed out to go eat some comfort food.

He started crying a bit on his way to the restaurant, but it was dark outside and the anonymity of the large city granted some comfort. By the time he got to the restaurant, he was mostly calmed down, and just wanted to eat his pizza in silence, and process his emotions through writing them down in the journal he brought.

It was surprisingly busy at the restaurant for being so late on a Saturday night, and Remus took advantage of that fact to quietly slip into a booth as far away from Sirius’s normal section that he could. Remus didn’t think he would be able to keep up with Sirius’s banter, or familiarity, or free tiramisu tonight. Until he had taken the time to process his night on paper, he didn’t want to have to talk to anyone he knew. After a minute of solitude, a middle-aged waitress approached his table: success. He placed his order and went back to his journal.

As always, he started to feel better almost immediately after he started writing. Once he came to a good stopping point, he paused to look up, and drank some of the cold water the waitress had brought earlier. A few deep breaths later and he was feeling almost like a real human again.

Just then, a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

“Hey there.” Sirius’s voice sounded warm, as always, but slightly hesitant too.

“I brought you something, uh, I saw that your pizza just went in the oven, so it’s still going to be a few minutes.” He placed a small platter of roasted green beans to the side of Remus’s journal, and gave a tentative smile.

Remus had a quick fleeting thought of do you think I don’t eat enough vegetables? But, he realized how tasty they looked and how hungry he was. He felt his eyes water slightly as he tore his gaze from the gifted appetizer back up to Sirius.

“Do you feel sorry for me?” Remus asked, suddenly, “because I’m always alone?”

Sirius’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Remus was almost as surprised as he was, for having verbalized the question that had popped into his mind at the moment. He supposed he meant to say alone here, in the restaurant, because that is where Sirius sees him, but it worked in the general sense too.

“How could I feel sorry for you,” Sirius said slowly, “when you look that good, even while you’re upset.” Sirius’s confident smile crept back onto his face as he walked away.

Remus watched him in surprise, and after a few seconds Sirius turned suddenly, instantly locking eyes with Remus. Caught. Sirius winked and turned back around again.

Remus frantically texted his friends. He first had to update them on the horrible date he had gone on, and then the friendly interactions he has had with Sirius over the course of his many visits to the restaurant, and finally what Sirius just said.

Marlene: First of all, Dorcas and I are gonna find this Roy guy and kill him, probably

Marlene: Second of all, REMUS! You gave me sexy-waiter-flirtation-tiramisu! What if he had put a love potion in it or something??

James: I think I’m missing something about tiramisu… is that some kind of euphemism??

Remus updated them on the desserts that Sirius had given Remus ever since he first came to the restaurant. He also started to smile again, almost unwillingly, at his friends’ texts. He remarked how much can happen in a night: excitement about a date, frustration during said failed date, sadness afterwards, spiraling into thinking he would never date again, getting flirted with, and eventually laughing as his wonderful friends tried to cheer him up, cheer him on, and just be their wonderfully unique and crazy selves.

Lily: Remus this is a sign! I said meeting someone organically would be the best, and here we are. You’ve been getting flirted with this whole time by someone you met in person!

Dorcas: She’s right, you should totally go for it! He obviously likes you

James: Come on mate, what do you have to lose?

Remus thought for a second, before responding to his support group.

Remus: my emotional support pizza

James: what??

The group convinced him to flirt back, and Remus silenced the phone before Sirius came back with his pizza. Evidently he had taken over his table from the earlier waitress.

“And here at last, one margherita pizza. Careful, it’s pretty hot, fresh out of the oven.” Sirius fiddled with the notepad he wrote orders in after setting the pizza down. “Um, enjoy your pizza.” He turned to walk away.

“Hey,” Remus spoke up, suddenly. Sirius turned around quickly at the sound. Remus’s eyes crinkled with happy mischief. “You too.”

Sirius laughed and continued his walk back to the kitchen.

***

When Sirius brought the check, Remus carefully penned his signature and a twenty percent tip. He idled for a moment, before flipping the receipt over and writing a string of ten digits. He paused for a second again, before adding underneath in neat scrawl “should you choose not to call, we must never speak of this, because I need to be able to eat margherita pizza here on my really bad days.” On a new line underneath, he just wrote “Remus”.

***

Thirty-four minutes later, Remus received a text message from an unknown number.

“Don’t worry Remus, I would never get between a man and his pizza.”

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