#losing friends always sucks. it sucks more when you know its both of your faults. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

questionablepastries · 3 months

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large vent

tw: suicidal ideation

I need to type this out for my own sanity. But also the entire purpose is on the off chance that someone reads this and, in some way, relates to what I'm experiencing. Not the entirety of it, but a part of it, would be enough for me to justify sharing my experiences. Normally, I would have written this out in a diary but something tells me that by sharing it and letting people they are not alone would be more beneficial than keeping this to myself. To preface everything, these are first world problems. All of this spiraling - ok first off my behavior towards what is really the most minor of all triggers is annoyingly blown over. All that happened was that someone i thought i could have befriended more given time and more chats- just one day decided i wasnt worth being (and i hate typing this) mutuals with.

What made me laugh was the idea of describing my lil hissy fit emotional tantrum to my boomer absolutely not online coworkers and they would all most likely laugh about it. But the more i thought about losing this mutual, the question i kept going back to was why? why was i blowing this out of proportion? what even caused this big of a reaction in me? well first off, i was really riding on the hope to get to know them better. i really wanted to be friends with them. the great thing about online friendships is that it eliminates any barriers that would be present if someone tried to make friends with you in person. you dont worry about smelling bad, looking weird, stuttering, bad posture, etc. so truly i was thinking if our interests aligned enough and we cracked some jokes we had something, that could blossom into something cool. instead it didnt and they just dropped me entirely out of nowhere, and me being my silly self thinks somehow its my fault.

honestly though im sure they were going through something - like they would constantly post about wanting ppl to unfollow them and me going oh that cant be about me surely, nah it was most definitely about me. i cant nail down what it was though, did i not reach out enough? did i joke too much? was i too little was i too much. unfortunately, with the lack of a physical barrier im taking this as a personal fault that I Really messed something up. Something about me as a person is inherently undesirable and therefore not worth putting in the time or effort to talk to -- there must have been something off about me for this to have played out the way it did, right? I keep running scenarios in my head like oh what if i reached out more, or what if i responded in a different way that one time -- as if it can change the outcome of what has happened but. all of this. all of this emotional self inflicting stupid reaction im having stems from my own struggles in real life to make friends. this has been a running trend all my 28 years (yeah 28!) and.. to bring myself back to reality and to keep my emotions from spilling over. I came up with a good strategy.

I always ground myself by saying to myself in a silly voice as if one would calm down a pet "are you punishing yourself for having become the person you are today due to your shitty environment/upbringing that you had no control over" and "are you punishing yourself for factors out of your control Again? eye roll come on now" and thats literally how ive been grounding myself this entire time whenever i get really uncomfortable with how i am as a person in real life. and yeah honestly my upbringing sucks ass it sucks soooo much. i have no extended family and it has never been more obvious since i became conscious as a toddler to this day that my extended family on both sides absolutely does not give a shit about me nor my immediate family. my immediate family being my mom and my sister. my mom and my sister are my ONLY family. side note and i mean this semi-jokingly: if you have a family fuck you. when my coworkers talk about their uncles or their aunts or their grandparents or how they were raised by their grandparents or how they hung out with their cousins and how they went on vacations, or how they spent time with their dad. i feel this massive vacancy in my heart that is a placeholder of what i want so desperately to have happened. i feel like those scenarios they describe to me are just not possible, families only exist on tv shows, and christmas specials, thats not a real thing. it has never been a reality for me. unrelatable. all of it. and as a first generation child from immigrants (lets not even get into my dad we havent spoken to him in over a decade) my only memories are of food stamps, being smelly in school because my mom could literally not afford the time to take care of me or afford a baby sitter, my stuttering, my inability to join extracurricular activities due to money, all of it added up to my ostracization throughout the entirety of my school years.

& as a child on welfare it was very much drilled into me that the only escape from poverty is through education and i took that very seriously. im a fucking scientist now i passed the national exam to get where i am. where i failed socially didnt matter to me back then as long as i had good grades, grades were All that mattered to me. and i succeeded. but not without some draw backs. ive always been an awkward person. i have a couple of friends few and far between in person. its literally three people that i keep in contact with in real life and i am extremely grateful that they reach out to me but its also like. i gotta do better lol one of them forgot my birthday this year and the other one only texted me 'birth' on my birthday, the last one he's a keeper - we're basically brothers and he always checks in on me, but he doesnt live in the same state as me. so all of that is to say. When this person broke mutuals it kind of made me, or rather for my own sanity, seriously re-evaluate my relationship with how i spend my free time, and who and what exactly am i placing value in. this person absolutely does not care about me and i dont expect them to. and given what little we had in terms of an online friendship i guess i let my hope of a cool friendship with them blind me to the reality of what we actually had. time and time again i have placed more hope and love into online individuals that do not reciprocate - and usually they just drop the ball on me. which is like ok. im sure i was either too little or too much i can never accurately gauge how intense i am due to, you know, Lack of Real Life Experience. oh right the suicide thing, so like for the longest time i struggled with suicidal idealization - it only stopped until i graduated about two years ago. In my pre-teens to late teens i told myself that if i was in the same scenario where my mom and my sister are my only family but we were well off i would definitely have killed myself.

I decided as a pre-teen that my only worth was how high i could get into my academics in order to lift my mom out of poverty. that was the Singular Only driving factor that kept me alive. kinda. damn that sucks to write out lol but its true! that was my mantra back then and i would repeat it anytime something shitty happened to me or someone was mean to me. im not sure where im going with this. i just wanted to get it out there, that i was and still am very lonely in person, and whats funny is that im not even like ugly im just average, i hung out with my sister and dolled myself up a bit for my birthday and we went to the mall and three guys hit on me unprompted so its definitely not a looks thing - SPEAKING OF when i got into uni and moved into an apartment with four roomates i was like this is my YEAR, im gonna go out SO MUCH im gonna walk around campus im gonna go out late and do school clubs!! and then covid happened. the apartment lease was worthless. i stayed indoors exactly the same amount as i always did only this time it was justified, but it sucked because that was the time i had decided i was going to break my cycle of staying inside holy shit that fucking sucked. and then my senior year of college i didnt need to stay in an apartment anymore because i was required to be in a hospital four days out of the week for training so i ended up back at my moms. i think there is something wrong w me tho bc im not saying it was being poor that led to me being awkward. but it didnt help, and im gonna go ahead and blame my lack of a support group - family wise, my entire life, on how uh. i came out. lately im trying to reel back how blunt i am. which. uh. hmm. i actually have a large language barrier with my mom. somehow i picked up on understanding spanish but not speaking it perfectly, it improved, im way better at speaking it now.

but i could hardly communicate with my mom while growing up, and she never expressed interests in my hobbies or who i was as a person, to this day i am and will forever be a 7 year old toddler in her eyes. she still shows no interest in me as a person or who i am. which is fine with me, ive accepted that she wont change, because she grew up in a more messed up environment and this entire time only until Recently, she had been on breadwinner providing for my two daughters survival mode. um. so , like i mentioned. that person breaking mutuals just shone a light on how, broken i am as a person? you would think, without physical barriers the sky is the limit when it comes to befriending people but no i still struggle i cant do anything right i suppose. i just need to focus on improving my life outside of online spaces. people online will reach out of they want to and can so im trying to lessen my hopes in general. and um. idk im at a loss for words currently. i simply dont know where to begin when it comes to , anything? living? hmm. i only just escaped school so i feel like i can breath - air for once. im no longer under the scary pressure of - if i fail at school im better off dead- ohh i think i know what i can add - offline people are WEIRD. ive had a couple of hiccups with friends irl that i literally dont talk to anymore! one of them became a misogynist red pill guy, another guy kept trying to touch me every time we hung out! and the last guy kept telling me to fuck off when i asked how he was doing!! hmmm. yeah this is just circling back to my current mantra which is to not be overly mean to myself for how i am currently due to my , situations leading up to now. I DONT KNOW. here's hoping..!! something !! anything is nice to me!! ohhhh i remembered something else. recently my coworker exchanged numbers w me saying something about haning out with other coworkers in the future. i am so desperately trying not to get my hopes too high up. always happens tho!!!!!!!! i get my hopes up when it comes to making friends both offline and online!!!!!! and guess what keeps happening again and again!!! HAHA………..can i have hope this time??? do u know once i tried reaching out to a mutual i wanted to befriend and get closer to (we were calling each other friends by this point) on Three Separate Platforms i knew they were active on only for them to Not respond to Anything i sent? AND i didnt even reach out three times in a row I Spaced It Out like a Normal Person. Only for Them to Tell me how they were having Fun in Their Friend Group of Other Online People talking about our Mutual Interests. Do you know how fucking stupid i felt at that moment. Oh im sorry am i not cool enough to be invited to that. Am i too stupid what is it about me thats so repellent??

I know its common courtesy to not be straight to people and tell them whats wrong with them but damn i wish someone would be straight with me and Not leave me hanging UGH. I realized at that moment tho that I never wanted to BE that desperate EVER AGAIN. I felt like such a stupid asshole holy shit. I never want to be that desperate for some onlines person attention ever again oh my god,, i dont think ill ever forgive them for that. its all on me though!!!!!!!!! mY FAULT!!!!!!!, for placing Value and i guess getting my Hopes up that i could make friends again WHOOPSIES i forgot im fuckin uhhh Ultra stinko Stupid Bitch who cant maintain any sort of relationship!!! back to the ditch on the side of the road i go to drink my stupid pond water like the unlovable unwarranted piece of shit nobody wants to hang out with again!!!!!!!! MY BAD!!!!!!! SO SORRY TO BOTHER. well its whatever i got money now, i have a job. and as much as i would like to say well earning money is all that matters right? its not. im a greedy greedy jealous little sniveling BITCH and my heart will never stop yearning for what others take for Granted. SO YEAH LOL. this has felt great to type out!! if you relate to any of that...um... Im sorry!!!!! we all in this together. but maybe not really im just gonna be kept at arms length with literally anyone i try to befriend offline due to me bein a little weirdo who cant relate to anything haaa,,, i want to end this on a positive note but fuck that! This is where im currently at and this is my current predicament! Will it improve? sure if i put some effort into myself and spend less time online and stop putting rakes on the ground to step on. i literally set myself up for getting hurt everytime ill figure out a way to make the pain hurt less.

#as far as the tw goes DONT WORRY #currently not struggling with it #its just something i talk about in my post

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secretsfromthegirlnextdoor · 2 years

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Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!OC

Part: 9/??

Series Masterlist

The sun had started its descent towards the horizon, and shortly after Sammie had pulled herself from the water to get ready for her dinner, JJ made some lame excuse to extract himself from the marsh and amble up towards the chateau. Only he didn’t make it into the fishing shack; and as soon as he was out of view of their group in the water he’d cut a sharp left turn and made a beeline for Sam’s house.

“What are you doing here?” She questioned softly, looking up at him from her seat on the porch steps. Her hair was still wet from their swim earlier, but in the time since she’d left the chateau she’d changed out of her swimsuit and into a flimsy summer dress with flowers on it. “Thought I’d make sure you were good” he smiled down at her as he put his foot up on the step next to where she was sitting “but you look pretty good from where I’m standing” JJ smirked as Sams mouth dropped open, letting out a scoff and rolling her eyes “that was awful Jonathan” she burst into laughter, it sounded like his favorite song. “That was so bad I have to use your full name” she pushed his leg off the step, causing him to lose his balance and fall forwards, earning more giggles.

“Hey, I meant to ask earlier, did your mom ever come back around?” Sam asked, suddenly serious as she played with her long, damp hair hanging over her shoulders. “Huh?” JJ questioned, a little bit shocked and unsure of why this subject was coming up now. He didn’t ever talk about his mom. His dad always said awful things when he was drunk like it was JJ’s fault that she left. When he was a kid he had a hard time believing this from his father, but years of the same mantra being spat at him had made him wonder.

As soon as the words came out Sam had regretted them. She saw her best friend's demeanor shift, his shoulders dropping and his brows furrowing in hurt and confusion. “Shit, I’m sorry” she shook her head, feeling stupid for blurting out something so clearly hurtful. “you just said something earlier that made me wonder, you said that in your experience, absent parents don’t come back around for no reason”

JJ nodded, now understanding why she’d brought it up seemingly out of the blue “nah” he shrugged “I don’t think she ever looked back when she left” he cast his eyes downward, kicking a rock around and avoiding Sam’s pity-ridden gaze. “When I said that I was thinking about JB’s mom, he told me once she’d come around asking Big John for money” he let out a chuckle “which is hilarious considering we both know how bad Big John was about paying bills”

Sam smirked at the irony of JJ’s story, remembering how upset John B had been when his dad went missing. Not just because he was gone, but because he’d taken their rent money with him. “Fuck, that’s dark JJ” she said as she rested her head in her hands, shaking it back and forth as she tried to hold back a laugh. “She must have been a pretty shitty gold digger if she thought she could squeeze a few more bucks outta that cheap ass” JJ laughed now, which in turn caused Sam to bust out. It was so awkward and terrible, but neither of them knew what to do but laugh at the sadness and misfortune of their parental figures.

A car driving over gravel quelled their laughter, and he saw her whole body tense. “Hey, call me if you want me to come by and make a scene ok?” She let out another snicker and nodded, “Get out of here ya heathen” Sam said, standing and shooing him away, smoothing her dress as she waved her hands.

“Come on, come on” Sammie whispered while she scrolled through her phone and tapped his name, holding it up to her ear as she listened to the call connect and start to ring “pick up, pick up, pick up” she commanded frantically, leaning against the door of the bathroom stall.

“Dinner over already?” JJ answered on the third ring. She sucked in her breath at the sound of his voice, “Did you mean it?” She asked him shakily. “What?” He questioned. Sam sighed, ‘I'm such an idiot,’ she thought to herself, “Will you come get me?”

“You want the whole scene or you wanna sneak out the bathroom window and meet me in the parking lot?” She hated that she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I’m not gonna answer that,” She said flatly. He chuckled, but she could hear movement on his end “Hang tight Sammie I Ammie. 10 minutes” he replied, ending the call.

JJ pulled the Twinkie haphazardly into the parking lot of The Wreck, spotting the black sports car Sam’s father had picked her up in only an hour before and flinging himself out of the driver's seat. He ran up to the familiar entrance, stopping short when something caught his eye. It was Sammie, her head hung low as she waited outside the door, perched on the railing and swinging her legs. It was hard to tell from where he stood in the dim light, but JJ could have sworn her eyes were red and puffy, and he definitely saw her wipe her cheeks more than once. She’d been crying.

Sammie looked up and saw him staring, giving the boy a weak smile, “I don’t need rescuing, I just needed a ride” he nodded, turning away from her to go inside “I know Sams, get in the van” he pointed at the Twinkie still idling a few yards away. “JJ don’t.” She pleaded, already knowing what he would do. “I ordered fries for take out, don’t get your knickers in a twist” he seethed and waved her off as he grabbed for the door handle.

He swung the door open and moved through the restaurant, searching for the face he’d seen only briefly that morning.

“Mr. Clarke?” JJ demanded. “Who the hell are you?” The older man questioned. JJ moved closer to the table, grabbing the seat in front of him with white knuckles. “Your daughter just called me to come pick her up, she couldn’t stand to be around you for another second.” He said, pointing aggressively at the man as he spoke the last part.

“Excuse me?” The man replied incredulously. JJ couldn’t help but continue his attack, “Oh right sorry, the kid you left here to fend for herself, she wasn’t interested in your pathetic attempt to reconnect” The man scoffed, shaking his head as he looked around the room, noticing the stares, but JJ couldn’t stop now. “Why now? Huh? Feeling guilty all of a sudden?” He could feel his voice raising now. “I have nothing to feel guilty about, young man” her father sneered at him. “How about you write her a blank check so she can go to college and get the fuck out of here, man. That’s the least you can do at this point!” The older man stood, collecting his wallet and then looking at the boy in front of him. “This is exactly what I came here to discuss with my daughter. And you are exactly the trash that I’m trying to steer her away from.” He spat the words at JJ, pointing in his face the same way the boy had moments earlier. “When you see her, tell her my offer still stands.”

JJ watched the older man turn and walk out of the restaurant. Praying that he would leave without any further issue. He turned to the counter, grabbing the bag of fries he’d called in on his way over. He was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

Well… maybe just not a big fat liar. He slid back into the van and deposited the bag of fries onto Sam's lap. “What happened?” She questioned, grabbing the bag absentmindedly. JJ ignored her, putting the van into gear and pulling out of the lot, “I saw him come out of the restaurant JJ, what happened? Did he say something to you?” Sam shifted in her seat to face him, reaching her hand out and placing it on his shoulder. The boy tensed, grabbing her hand and placing it back on her own lap “he didn’t say anything, my fries just took a minute, okay?” He sighed, glancing over at her before looking back to the road. “JJ” she pleaded. He looked over at her again, eying the bag of fries and reaching for it, digging his hand in and pulling out a fistful, jamming them into his mouth as he drove with the other hand. “Nothing happened Sammie, just chill” he mumbled with his mouth full.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, and by the time they rolled over the gravel drive at the chateau JJ had finished nearly all of the fries, crumpling the bag and tossing it behind him as he put the van in park and looked over at the girl in the passenger seat. “Come on, we’re gonna miss the fireworks” he said quietly, the deafening silence not lost on him. Sam shook her head, “it’s been a long day, think I’ll just head home” she said as she gave him a half grin “thanks for coming to get me,” she popped open the door and slid out, slamming it shut and making her away around the van in the direction of her house.

“Sam” he called out in the dark, watching the girl stop and turn over her shoulder to face him “what was the offer?” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, in his mind he planned to say goodnight, but he couldn’t stop hearing her fathers words run through his mind. Sam let out a sigh, walking back towards him and mumbling ‘I knew it’ under her breath. “It’s nothing, JJ, his offer means nothing.” It was JJ’s turn to shake his head now, “no, he said his offer still stands, what was he talking about?” He could see her in the moonlight, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up to the sky “he wants me to come to Savannah, to finish school there and live with him and his new family” she said, voice cracking at the end, “it's the only way he’ll agree to help with college.”

JJ moved his hands up to his head, grabbing his cap in his fist and taking it off, running his free hand through his hair “fuck” he whispered, “what are you gonna do?” He looked back to her and could already see her turning away, “I don’t know” she replied. It was the last thing he heard before she walked out of sight and into the darkness.

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ceruleanchillin · 3 years

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When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #Coco Cruz #Coco Cruz x reader #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #reader insert

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sserpente · 4 years

Text

Raw Desire

Synopsis: Something is wrong with him. Something none of the Avengers, including Thor, understand. When Loki turns into his Jötun form unwillingly and begins to act in a very primal and aggressive way, their solution for the problem is to lock him up in a cell below the compound until it’s all over. It’s a disease, perhaps, one which only Frost Giants can develop. Only Loki is not sick. Loki is in heat--and his Jötun body will not rest until his most carnal desires have been satisfied...

Words: 9176 Warnings: Jötun!Loki, smut, fluff, symptoms of addiction

A/N: You wanted some Jötun!Loki, I wanted some Jötun!Loki... so here we go. Enjoy, everyone! 😏

Additional NSFW Warnings: breeding kink (a little bit, anyway), Loki is in heat (kind of, duh), lack of aftercare (at first...)

His antagonising scream tore through the entire compound. You flinched, alarmed. Loki. The heart-breaking sound of pain tugging at your nerves was followed by a loud thump—like a heavy metal door falling shut, locked for good. It had come from the cellar, where the Avengers stored weaponry and ammunition; along with provisory but secure prison cells of Wakandan technology for criminals until they could be handed over to the authorities.

When you reached the source of the rousing noise, you almost knocked straight into Thor. His muscly back resembled a thick fleshy wall that would break your bones if you collided with him with too much force and speed.

“What happened?” Out of breath, you moved around him—facing the culprit of the commotion. The eerie flickering camera right outside the cell door showed Loki knocking his fists repeatedly against the metal door. His knuckles were already bloody from the repeated impact, yet the door would not budge. Much more concerning, however, was his appearance. Loki’s skin—every inch revealed to the naked eye anyway—was blue, his otherwise enchanting blue eyes sparkling with mischief of a deep blood-red. Countless, unique and fleshy lines formed a complex pattern on his arms and the back of his hands, even his face and neck. Your lips parted, both in shock and surprise at what your eyesight had revealed to you.

“He’s losing his fucking mind.” Tony responded for Thor before the Thunderer could even open his mouth in defence. He came tramping into the room as mad as you had never experienced him, tapping away on a tablet in the process. “I told you it was bad idea to bring him back here, Point Break! What were you thinking?”

“Can anybody tell me what is going on?! Why is he… like this? Is he in pain?”

“In pain?! He almost killed Nat. If Wanda hadn’t interfered…” Tony did not finish the sentence—regardless, the threat of what consequences there would have been for the God of Mischief was clearly audible.

“This was unlike him. He had no reason to…”

“No? He pounced on her like a… like a…”

“Beast?” Bruce added matter-of-factly. His hands were in his pocket when he approached the scene and patted Thor on the back in an attempt of providing comfort.

“Maybe… maybe this isn’t his fault, Stark. I know my brother, he’s never acted like this before!” The God of Thunder roared in defence, his arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Tony retorted sarcastically. “You know your brother so well he even tried to kill us all. Three times. No. This man is evil. Look at him!”

Petrified, you risked another peek. Loki was downright animalistic, his fists still working the metal cell door. He was getting weaker, worn out—like the fire in his red eyes was slowly being extinguished to make way for weariness. There was something primal in his behaviour; something raw. You would be ignorant to deny it scared you.

“Tony,” you began, forcing your voice to cease the shaking, “What happened? Why did he attack Natasha? Was he hurt?” Your sudden concern for him was going to give you away. No, not sudden. It had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface of your heart. You had only kept it a secret because… because what?

Loki did not know you had been harbouring romantic feelings for him for a significant amount of time now. Dark, tall and mysterious, he matched not only your type but had hopelessly captured you with his melancholic and lonely nature, the grief in his stunning blue eyes. You refused to believe that Loki was evil, that he had ever truly wanted to harm his brother; and you were desperate to be his friend… and even more than that. But the God of Mischief had hidden his heart behind such a hard shell that you were worried you might never get him to open up to you.

You would by no means describe yourself as an altruistic person—but there was a both enamoured and depraved part of you which desired, longed, for him to like you back.

“Talk to me.” You stated, tilting your head when he flung his dagger at one of the battered punching bags in the training room.

“What?” He sounded almost scornful when he spun around to gift you an incredulous look.

“Talk to me, Loki. I want to know what’s going on in your mind. I thought I was… you are always so distant. You disappear in here every other night, you snap at everyone trying to speak to you. You look nervous, like something is trying to break out of you.” Like you are trying to get rid of monstrous amounts of bottled up energy, you added silently. “You seem so restless. What’s wrong?”

“What concern is that of yours?” He spat.

“See! That is exactly what I meant.”

Loki growled. “What do you want from me, (Y/N)?” You flinched when he used your full name as opposed to the nickname everyone called you by.

“Why? Why are you screaming at me, I’m just trying to help! Don’t you get it, Loki? I care about you. And I care about what you think, even if I am probably the only one in this bloody compound who does.” Now that was unfair. But it was also the truth. “Why are you pushing me away? Let me in…”

Desperately, you moved forward in an attempt to reach up and cup his face, only for him to grab your wrists and pull them away harshly.

“Let you in? All I have ever received in return for ‘letting someone in’ was hurt and hatred. Give me one good reason for why I should open up to you,” he mocked, releasing your hands as if they would burn his fingers if they lingered on your skin for too long. “Tell you about my sorrows.” Sorrows. He had sorrows.

“I am not them.” You simply said. “Not any of them. I am not Odin, not Thor, none of the Avengers.”

Blinking, you snapped out of your memory. You had had this tragic conversation only two nights ago. No matter what you had said, he would not tell you what was on his mind. Now you knew.

“Something is wrong with him.” You interrupted the discussion, one you had not paid any attention to, by silencing them with a loud and determined voice.

“You don’t say?”

“No, Tony, you don’t understand… Loki is… he is Jötun. Thor, has he ever voluntarily turned into his Jötun form?”

The God of Thunder thought about it for a moment—then, he shook his head. “No.” You gave him a meaningful look. “So… you think it has something to do with his species?”

You nodded slowly and swallowed.

“Then we keep him in here until he is better.” He concluded. Your eyes widened.

“What? Thor, no… you can’t keep him locked up in there! What if he doesn’t get better on his own? Are you going to incarcerate him forever?”

“That would be an improvement.” Tony tossed in bitterly.

“We have to help him.”

“We? (Y/N)…” Bruce remarked almost tauntingly.

“You’ll find us upstairs. We need to let the others know about… whatever this is.” Tony added. You gnashed your teeth when he and Bruce turned to leave. For an awkward moment, it was eerily still—right until another one of Loki’s screams tore through the uncomfortable silence. You flinched once more. He was howling in pain.

“You think it might be a disease only Frost Giants can get?” Thor asked with concern in his deep voice at last.

You shrugged apologetically. “Maybe…”

“Loki and I were going to return to Asgard next week. I shall ask around, one of the healers should be familiar with Jötun diseases.”

“Go as soon as you can. Your brother is in pain, Thor, can’t you hear that?”

The God of Thunder nodded absentmindedly. But if no one was going to do something about Loki’s suffering—whatever it was—immediately, you would do it alone. So you did what Loki would do first. You dug up his books.

Loki’s room was neat, tidy. The green bed had been made—there was not a single wrinkle in the fabric and the desk was all clean, not giving thin layers of dust only visible in the direct sunlight a chance. The books he had brought from Asgard, old, thick, yellowed and heavy, he had stored on a bookshelf higher than you could reach.

Sucking in a determined breath, you moved the desk chair in front of it. The polished wooden floor to your feet complained with an ear-piercing shriek as you did. Determined, you climbed up to study the titles. All of them were written in Nordic Runes, making you realise that your research would end up being a lot harder than you had initially assumed. You could not speak a word of Old Norse, let alone read those Runes. Never mind that… you needed answers—and Loki needed your help.

It took you two hours to go through the titles and have them translated via a website you had had to pay for (using Tony’s credit card details—desperate times called for desperate measures) to use its allegedly reliable services.

Then, finally, after what felt like half an eternity, you found a suitable page-turner. It was titled Mythical Creatures and Species across Yggdrasil—at least, that was what the website you used told you.

Eagerly, you opened the book searching frantically for the chapter on Frost Giants and began sucking up all the information you could get. The more you read… and the more you compared Loki’s symptoms to the described behaviour of Jötuns in the book, the more aghast you became. One thing was for sure. Loki was not sick. Loki was aroused.

Terror-stricken, you bookmarked the page, grabbed your phone and jumped to your feet, abandoning the pile of books on Loki’s floor. You needed to speak to Thor right now.

He was about to enter the bathroom when you found him, once again almost knocking into his broad form.

“I… I found something.” You choked out.

“What?”

“I found something… about Loki. Thor… he is not ill, not really, he is…” Biting your lower lip, you pushed the God of Thunder into the bathroom, shut the door behind you and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “He is… aroused.”

“What?” He roared, blushing. “What do you mean he is aroused?”

“Look… I found this book, I…”

“You speak Old Norse?”

“No! I used… I used a translator. Thor, listen, please. It says here that to ensure their continued existence, male Frost Giants, every one-thousand years, experience the primal urge to copulate with females of their kind. Much like wolves or elves, this ‘heat’ usually begins with restlessness, extremely aggressive and possessive behaviour, unusual amounts of pent-up energy as well as an extreme hunger and loss of appetite at the very same time. Loki hasn’t showed up for lunch, dinner or breakfast and… he has been spending extraordinary times in the training room downstairs in the middle of the night lately. He barely sleeps, it seems.”

“Go on…”

“How old is Loki, Thor?”

“He is a little over one-thousand years… old.” He looked up in shock when he realised.

“That’s why he is in his Jötun form, Thor. He can’t control it, it’s not his fault, it’s… in his nature. God…” You had read it all, yet you were still working on processing it.

“This… it would explain why he tried to attack Nat. So… he is not in danger then?” Thor probed.

“No, not necessarily but—“

“So we can just wait until it is over.”

You frowned. “Until what is over?”

“His heat! If what you are saying is true and Loki’s behaviour derives from his heritage… if he cannot control his reactions, we have to keep him locked up and wait. We can’t have him ravish all the females in the compound.”

“But… he is in pain.”

An urgent knock on the bathroom door interrupted you.

“Hey, are you having a soap party in there? Other people need to use the bathroom too!” Closing the heavy book shut again, you rolled your eyes.

“There are at least three other bathrooms in this compound, Tony!”

“What are you two doing in here anyway?” He asked as he opened the door and leaned against the threshold when he spotted you two sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“(Y/N) found out that Loki is… uh… in heat.”

“In heat?!” Tony repeated. “Like a cat?”

“No! It… has something to do with the procreation cycle of Jötuns. It… is in his nature.”

“Fuck…”

“Hey… language.” If you hadn’t recognised his voice, you would know it was Steve who joined your heated discussion. “What’s going on here?”

“Loki is in heat, like a cat.” Steve frowned.

“No, he isn’t! Not like a cat, this is…” Thor stood again before you could finish your sentence.

“It’s for the best, (Y/N). Down there, he’ll be save from getting himself into trouble.”

“Thor, wait! Loki is suffering! Soon, he will…”

“We can’t risk it, (Y/N)! He almost raped Natasha!” Tony barked. “And if you go near him, I’ll lock you up too. I’ve seen what he’s capable of, (Y/N). I will not let him hurt you.”

“He… he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.” You chirped. No. Loki would never deliberately take a woman against her will. If he did… no! Loki had in incredible amount of self-control and composure; and you knew how much he despised his own heritage. He would fight this—for as long as he could.

“Besides…” Tony added. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he got a taste of his own medicine.”

“Stop blaming Loki for your PTSD, Tony. That was Thanos’ doing and you know that.” You growled darkly. The billionaire paused for a moment.

“He is staying where he is,” he concluded then. “Until he’s gone back to normal.”

But you did not want to wait. You couldn’t. You had read about the symptoms in detail. In the book it said that moodiness and aggression were only the beginning. If Loki did not act on what his Jötun body demanded from him and… released, then soon, excruciating pain would torment his loins. Masturbation appeared to be out of the picture. You nibbled on your lower lip. This thought of yours invaded his privacy on a truly shameful level, yet you were certain that if sexual arousal had already been plaguing him for a significant amount of time before this outbreak of his, he would have tried to lay hand on himself already and learned it did not provide the necessary relief.

Sooner or later, he would no longer be able to suppress his erection—and it would not disappear until he… sheathed himself inside a female to fill her with his seed. Under different circumstances, the idea of him claiming a woman… you, in such a possessive manner would have aroused you tremendously yourself. As of right now, however, Loki was in agony. The pain, if ignored for too long, would only get worse—it could last up to months and even then the denial of sexual release could result in permanent damage to his loins and even his potency.

But there was no cure either. No potion or spell to contain a male Jötun’s heat which Thor could have forwarded to Asgardian healers.

It was past midnight when you stopped reading and translating—too appalled by how much more Loki would have to suffer if nothing was done about his… condition. The only way to make it stop… was to act on it.

Your lips parted in realisation. You liked him, very much so—and you found Loki incredibly attractive, dreaming of his hands on your body, even. Perhaps you could help him after all. You were not Jötun but… would his body really make a difference? This most primal part of him wished to mate with a female—and although you had never seen a female Jötun, you doubted they looked much different than you did down there.

You had to wait another thirty minutes until the lights in Tony’s lab finally went out and you could sneak through the compound and downstairs to the cells—and once you had made sure that Vision was nowhere to be found, you switched off the security camera for Loki’s cell and approached the thick metal door.

It was quiet. He had stopped screaming. There was no banging against the walls either. Yet when you unlocked the door and slipped inside, his appearance, cowering on the floor and leaning against the cool wall with bare feet, startled you to the core. Loki’s raven hair was completely dishevelled, his knuckles bruised and covered in dry blood. His Jötun appearance was downright intimidating and close up, even more fascinating. He was breathing heavily, the thin shirt he had been wearing underneath all of his armour torn in several places, revealing blue skin and in his dark leather trousers… there was a remarkable bulge.

You shivered slightly when his red eyes met yours. Slowly, he tilted his head. “What are you doing here?” He growled hoarsely but weakly.

“I… I want to help you.”

The God of Mischief snorted. “You cannot help me.”

Mutely, you shook your head. “I can. Loki… I… I know what’s happening with you.”

He snorted once more. “So do I.”

“Let me help you.” Taking a deep breath, you moved closer to him. He reacted immediately. Loki jerked, greedily, as if to grab you and pull you on his lap. He could barely stop himself. Yet you were convinced that he would not hurt you in this state… much. A wave of courage rolled over you—you were doing this for him; and you wouldn’t be doing it if you did not like him in this way. Regardless of what he thought of you after, if he could even imagine being with a mortal like that… you longed to stop his pain.

“Leave.” He said quickly when you kneeled down next to him, timidly resting your palms on his thighs. “No… I said… leave… while you still can.” You did not. In fact, you ignored his rather sincere warning. Slowly, to not tickle the sleeping dragon, you reached for the buttons of his leather trousers and began undoing them until he grabbed a hold of your wrists to stop you. He was ice cold.

“Have you… lost your mind?” Loki was cut off by a loud hiss escaping his lips when your fingertips brushed against his erection. He was large—much larger than he would be in his Aesir form, you presumed, and his cock too was blue and covered in dozens of ridges.

“It won’t go away on its own,” you whispered. “You know it won’t. It’s okay.”

Braver this time, you stroked him again, creating more skin on skin contact. Loki was still holding on to you tightly but made no move to stop you. The touch of a female… it must have been bringing some sort of relief already. Coming here had been the right decision.

“Loki…” You murmured. Finally, your hand closed around his incredibly hard cock entirely and you began to jerk him off—gently at first, only to pick up speed when his breathing grew even heavier than it already was. Defeated, he dropped his head against the wall, revealing his blue neck to you. “Please let me help you.” You repeated. “It’s okay. I trust you.” Upon those words, Loki’s eyes widened barely noticeably. Perhaps it was all he had needed to hear to lose his self-control and composure entirely.

Growling like a wild animal, he suddenly started at you, pushing you back firmly so you lost your balance like a beetle on its back, wrapped his ice cold hands around your ankles and pulled you into him. Your back collided with the floor, knocking all air out of your lungs. You gasped for air all the while Loki busied himself with your clothes. Any layer of fabric was too much. He wanted you naked for him. His sheer strength petrified you when he tore at your pyjamas and ripped them to pieces until they were scattered all over the cell. You trembled—but it wasn’t the icy temperature of his blue skin that made your limbs shake so much. It was, so you realised when your widened eyes fell on his massive erection, now fully springing free from his tight trousers, your own arousal growing into dizzying heights. This, whatever it was, excited you—maybe even way more than it should.

Once more, the God of Mischief grabbed your ankles, forcing your legs open. Your heart skipped a beat when he laid his blood-red eyes upon your bare pussy. Your lower lips must have been glistening with your juices in the artificial light of the cell. Loki growled, his long and cold fingers gripping your ankles so tightly you could already feel the bruises forming. Eagerly, he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his hard and ice cold cock teasing your clit. A moan escaped your lips, urging him on. The fire in his eyes had returned, like your body had set his ablaze.

He spread you even further for him, your nails digging into the metal floor beneath you—and then he claimed you for his own. Inch by antagonising inch, he split you apart, sheathing himself so deep inside of you all air was knocked from your lungs yet again. He was ice cold and he was much larger than the average man; and you were beginning to understand that yes, female Jötuns were anatomically different than humans. Human women were not made for taking such long cocks… so why did every single powerful thrust of his feel so good?

Loki pulled out almost completely, with only the tip remaining inside of you, only to plunge back inside only the fraction of a second later, fucking you furiously. Your tight and wet walls appeared to mould around his manhood, gripping him tightly, asking for more despite the almost unbearable coldness against your most intimate parts. No longer were you in control of your arms. They reached up, palms gliding over his bare chest and enjoying the coldness under your fingertips. Fascinated and aroused at the very same time, you traced every single ridge on Loki’s body while he was fucking you senseless, until your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to take the pleasure. His long manhood his spots inside of you which you had never known even existed. He leaned down, at last letting go of your ankles, instead taking a hold of your wrists to pin them both down right above your head and pressing his body so tightly against yours that your clit kept rubbing against his pelvis with every single stroke. You moaned, stricken by ecstasy, and arched your back as you kept moving your hips up to meet his thrusts.

Aroused, you looked down, watching how his blue cock kept sliding in and out of you, spreading your lips as they enveloped him welcomingly.

Loki groaned, his attention steering towards your breasts as they bounced with each of his rough thrusts. Hungrily, he lowered his face, his cold breath ghosting over your mounts, and sucked your right nipple into his mouth—hard. He nibbled, suckled pulled and bit until the already hardened nub was throbbing with pleasure and need and he repeated the same blissful procedure with your left nipple all the while he kept rutting into you uncontrollably.

“Loki…” You wondered if, in his current state, he would be able to speak. As of right now, he indeed reminded you of a wolf who would annihilate anything standing between him and his subject of desire, his prey—you.

Your toes curled, the promising and numbing sensation growing in your lower abdomen having you scream his name over and over again. You could already feel yourself clenching around him, your body urging him on to mark you with his seed and impregnate you and when he finally released himself into you, burying his cock as deep inside of you as was physically possible and coating your walls with his load, he triggered your own release.

You came with a loud moan, feeling him twitch against you as your pussy contracted around him again and again until you collapsed underneath him, spent and tired from his vigorous fucking. Loki, on the other hand, didn’t even think about letting you be. Unceremoniously, he pulled you on his lap so you came to snuggle up against his cold and naked chest, your face hidden in his neck. He supported himself by leaning against the metal wall, his cock still resting deep inside of you.

“How… are you… feeling?” You breathed out, barely able to keep your eyes open. Being taken thoroughly by a Frost Giant had been a lot more exhausting than you had initially assumed.

He was panting, his eyes almost shut. His erection inside you, however, was still very prominent and nowhere near ebbing down.

“Better… soon.” He growled into your ear. Soon? A high-pitched scream escaped your lips when he sank his teeth into your neck and bit down hard enough to make you squirm on his lap. You could still feel his ice cold sperm dribbling out of you and coating his own cock when he grabbed your arse and began moving you up and down his cold rut, forcing you to ride him.

“Oh… fuck…” You choked out. You were tender already, sensitive to the touch. This was too much, too soon. Yet Loki was too caught up in his pleasure and urges to give you a break. He took you several more times that night, eliciting orgasm after orgasm after orgasm from you—until you were on the verge of passing out.

You awoke with a hunger unlike one you had never experienced before. Irritated, you crawled out of bed—using the toilet but skipping your morning routine to get to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. It was only seven. Loki had not… released you until half past six. There was no way your body could have drawn enough rest from this meagre hour of sleep.

Be that as it may—for now, you were hungry. Quietly, you tiptoed into the kitchen, ignoring the sweet ache and tenderness between your legs and resisting the urge to cup yourself through your pyjama bottoms. The white and bright light of the fridge blinded you when you opened it and reached for a package of juice and one of those pre-packed turkey sandwiches Tony kept buying. Unceremoniously, you then closed the fridge with your butt and sat down at the kitchen table to eat. And you kept returning to the fridge until Steve joined you in the kitchen to have a cup of coffee and then go for a run. When had you ever been this hungry before? Was it because of the aggressive sex you had had with Loki? Jesus…

You blushed when Steve asked you how you had slept—and you were rather grateful you had been smart enough to switch off the security cameras before… helping Loki out. He had still been in his Jötun form when you left at long last but he had looked content and… satisfied, in the most carnal manner possible. You would wait until the rest of the Avengers were up to check on him, to not raise any suspicion.

So when Thor staggered into the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face, you nearly jumped from your seat.

“Good morning!” He yelled—clearly in a very good mood. He managed to scarf down an entire package of fruit loops before you couldn’t take it anymore and aggressively scratched your fork over your empty plate until the room went awkwardly quiet.

“Didn’t you forget something?” You asked him heatedly. The God of Thunder frowned.

“No! I did flush the toilet this morning, (Y/N).”

Rolling your eyes, you stood.

“Loki. Loki is still one level below you, locked up in a cell, in pain, while you are enjoying your breakfast.” You hoped though, sincerely, that he was no longer in pain.

“(Y/N)… we spoke about this, there is nothing we can do. Down there, he can’t hurt himself or anyone else. I told you I’m going to Asgard soon, I will speak to—”

It was in this moment that your plate broke in half. You had, subconsciously, used your fork to stab it so forcefully it fell apart like a rotten apple. Eyes widening, you mumbled an apology.

“Sorry… I just… no one should be suffering like this. You all heard him last night.”

Bruce gave you a gentle smile. “You’ve always had a big heart for everyone, huh?” You nodded quickly. They did not need to know about your feelings… or the arousing ache between your legs. Your heart was racing. You took a deep breath, hurrying out of the kitchen without cleaning up behind you. Instead, you immediately locked yourself in the bathroom and turned on the tap to splash some cold water on your face. The icy temperature calmed you once it came in contact with your skin, reminding you of him—if only for a moment.

You were shaking. What on Earth was wrong with you? You took a quick shower to wind down, threw on an oversized sweater and then headed downstairs to the prison cells. A glance at the monitor of the security camera made you let out a relieved breath. Loki had indeed gone back to his Aesir form—and he did no longer seem to be in pain. It was, so you wondered, very unusual, however, to not complain and wreak havoc so the Avengers would let him out but then again… would they truly believe him if he told them he had overcome his heat?

With another deep breath, you opened the cell door and slipped inside.

“You were not supposed to see me like this last night. No one was.” He said quietly before you could even open your mouth, not bothering to make eye contact with you.

“Did you know? What was happening to you?”

“Yes.” He snorted, a bitter smile spreading on his thin lips. “I believed I would be able to control it.” Finally, he looked up, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Did I hurt you?” Your lips parted in surprise. Slowly, you shook your head.

“No… I mean… it was quite pleasurable… for me as well… actually.” You choked out sheepishly.

“Hmm… that I could tell,” Loki gave you a light smirk. “Thank you.” He said then—and for the first time since you had met him, you sensed true honesty and sincerity in his smooth voice.

“I’ll leave the door open.” You returned his smile; the planes in your belly flying loops.

“We are… keeping this between us, are we not?” He hastened to ask when you turned around.

“Of course.” After all, no one needed to know you had let Loki mate with you to regain control over his loins.

It was five days after your intimate encounter with Loki when your constant shaking became worse enough for him to notice—and if that wasn’t bad enough already, your body had begun to sweat; a lot. Day in and out, you had to change your sheets as if your bed was your personal sauna—or your personal hell.

You felt like you had been hit by a bus, like an extremely nasty form of the flu had you in its steel grip tightly, unwilling to let you go. Sleep, however, to get some rest and recover, would not come either. Two hours per night at most, three if you got lucky. And instead of getting better, it became worse.

He had been restless ever since. It could not be. After all, it had also never… or had it? Growling to himself, he locked the door to his room, enjoying the quietness and most of all, utter privacy.

Not a soul in the nine realms was aware he was still in the possession of the Tesseract. So when he produced it out of thin air—his large hand momentarily surrounded by a green mist—he made sure to hurry and quickly teleported himself back to Asgard. Heimdall would never open the Bifrost for him if he wasn’t accompanied by Thor.

He was worried about you and his surprise about these particular circumstances was remarkably low. When he closed his eyes, he could still taste your hard nipples on his tongue from when he had suckled on them. He remembered how warm your body felt against his when he had cradled you in his lap and the thought of your tight cunt around his throbbing cock stirred arousal in his leather trousers if only he indulged in reminiscences for too long. Most of all, however, he was unable to forget the sincere smile on your face when you had freed him from the cell the next day… and the mesmerised gaze you had met him with when he had ravished your sweet quim over and over again.

With another deep breath, he disappeared in an ice cold cloud of smoke.

Sneaking past the guards and into the palace library—the one place he had spent hours on end in growing up here, hiding away from Thor, his friends and the world, reading and hoarding knowledge—was pathetically easy. He knew exactly what to look for, what lecture would confirm his worrying suspicions. Once he found what he had been searching, he sat down on the windowsill—another usual spot he found comfort in—and began his research. He had known about the impact of a male Jötun’s seed on his female counterpart, of course; for even though he despised his own race, he, as opposed to Thor, had paid attention during their private tutoring lessons as children. The heavy book in his hands, however, made him, the God of Mischief and Trickery, hold his breath. What Loki had not known was that the repercussion of a male Jötun’s seed did not just occur in Jötun females. It applied to any species—including humans. However, the chances of survival for weaker lifeforms were alarmingly low.

Abandoning the book, he hurried out of the library and into the city. There was someone he needed to speak to.

“With all due respect, my prince but you are not welcome here.” Loki rolled his eyes. He knew it would not be fun, exactly, to seek out his ex-partners and ask about their well-being long after he had left them. The man opening him when he knocked on Sigyn’s door, a woman he had been engaged with for several years in his youth, was about as tall as Thor—his right hand decorated with a golden ring. Husband. Just great. And, judging by his obvious dismay of finding him on his doorstep, she must have told him about their shared past.

“I need to speak to your wife. Urgently. That is an order.” Sigyn’s husband growled, clenching his fists but stepped aside regardless. Loki made sure not to pay any attention to the furniture and his surroundings. Toys were scattered all across the living room, hinting that Sigyn had become both wife and mother in his absence. Her face fell when she spotted Loki standing in the middle of the small room—truly like he would even have preferred Helheim over being here of all places—as pale as a ghost.

“Loki… I mean… your highness. What… brings you here?”

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Um… by all means. Sit down. Would you like some ale?”

“No.” Sigyn pointed at the rectangular kitchen table and then sat down opposite of him. Her hands were folded on the surface of the polished wood.

“It is good to see you.”

“Likewise… Now this will sound odd,” he began unceremoniously, ignoring her husband towering above him with his arms crossed. “But I have to know how you fared after we separated. Not… emotionally. Physically.” He emphasised.

“Physically? That is indeed odd. Oh, I… um… let me see, it’s been such a long time. I had quite an appetite after you left,” she laughed, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. Loki sighed.

“An appetite. What more than that?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Except… yes, of course! I fell ill a few days after. The healers never found out what my body was rebelling against. It lasted for a few months. Tiredness, insomnia, attacks of sweat and I could not stop shaking. Why do you ask? Did you… did you experience it too?”

“No,” he replied quickly, a nauseous feeling spreading in his guts. You were showing the exact same symptoms. Symptoms of addiction. “You said it lasted for a few months?”

“I am sorry, your highness but is there a point to this interrogation? My wife has to feed the baby.”

“We’re almost done.” He barked, glaring at Sigyn’s husband from the corner of his eye.

“It did,” Sigyn confirmed. “But then it never returned.”

“Thank you. That will be all.” Loki took a deep breath and stood, resisting the urge to massage the bridge of his nose to clear his thoughts. It was only when he turned on his heel to leave this way too harmonic place that he noticed Sigyn’s husband had left the door open for him. He rolled his eyes.

“Loki! I-I mean, your highness…”

“Loki is fine, Sigyn. We have seen each other naked, after all.” Beside him, he could practically hear her husband gnashing his teeth. He smirked.

“I understand you do not wish to share with me what troubles you but whatever it is, I hope everything will turn out to be alright.”

Loki gave her a smile. It was as honest as he could muster in this tense situation. Sigyn had always known when he was being plagued by dark sorrows, even before he learned about his true parentage. Much like you. You too had been able to tell he had been unwell, both physically and mentally. He swallowed thickly.

“Thank you, Sigyn.”

He had to see Amora, too. They had not exactly gone separate ways peacefully but if she had experienced the same symptoms as Sigyn after their break-up, he had to get back to you immediately. And he had to tell you. The truth, a luxury given his nature, was the very least you deserved.

“Where have you been?” Thor roared as soon as he entered the kitchen to pick up one of those cold drinking chocolates you had introduced him to a while back—the ridiculous amount of sugar would help you, if only for a moment. The presence of Tony, Nat, Bucky, Steve and Thor, leaning against the counter or sitting at the kitchen table, he ignored as best as he could. He would have preferred to be alone now.

Loki quirked his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Asgard, given that you were unwilling to get help yourself.”

“How? Heimdall wouldn’t…”

“There is a lot Heimdall does not know, brother.” Thor grumbled something he did not understand but it sounded awfully like a curse word in Old Norse.

“Whatever. Have you seen (Y/N)? Her room is down the same hallways as yours, has she left her room lately?” Tony barked at him.

“As far as I am concerned, she has Vision bring her excessive amounts of food, for she is too weak to come to the kitchen herself. No. I have not seen her around.” He replied nonchalantly, with false disinterest. This time, so it seemed, however, his choice of tone, equalled shooting himself in the foot.

“We need to get her to the hospital. None of the medicines I gave her worked even a little bit—and I contacted the best doctors I know.” Loki suppressed a scoff. As if a hospital full of human ‘doctors’ would be able to help you. The only one who could… was he.

“For Fuck’s sake, she has been feeling ill ever since…” Tony’s face fell. “Ever since we locked up your brother.” Belligerently, his gaze wandered over to Loki again. “Okay, Reindeer Games, what did you do to her and don’t even try to lie to me!”

“You do assume, automatically, that I have something to do with it?” He mocked. Tony clenched his fists.

“Loki,” Thor added calmly. “Do you… know something?” The God of Mischief sighed. If he told them, what little trust they had in his capabilities as an Avenger would vaporise like smoke. It mattered not. In fact, he could not care less if any of those self-proclaimed heroes even liked him. Yet if he spoke the truth… surely they would do anything in their power to keep you away from him—which was exactly what they could not do if they wanted you to survive and feel better again as much as he did. He could just take care of the problem on his own… sooner or later, however, they were bound to find out about their intimate encounters, and he was beyond keeping secrets like that. If he wanted to make love to you, then he would, may the Norns help him.

“It is… my seed.” He choked out reluctantly.

“Your… what!? Your… yeah, no, I can’t say that out loud without throwing up… is making her sick!?”

“The seed of a male Jötun is causing… an addiction. Withdrawal will make her weak and ill.” Loki looked up grimly. “Frost Giants live in strictly monogamous relationships.”

“What, like penguins? How did she even come in contact with… did you… did you rape her? I swear to God, I will kill you.”

“I did not lay a finger on her.” Loki replied darkly.

Tony threw his hands up in the air. “So how did your happy juice get inside of her in the first place then!? How did that happen, I wonder?”

“She came to me voluntarily, Stark!”

“But you knew? If you knew it would make her sick, why didn’t you stop her, you selfish asshole!?”

“How!? How, Stark!? Resisting the urge to mate in heat is like attempting to suppress a sneeze. It’s impossible. Don’t bother your pathetic human mind with things you do not understand.”

“Loki…” Thor began warningly. The God of Mischief ignored him with a hostile growl.

“(Y/N) would never do that.” Tony said then.

“Perhaps you do not know her as well as you thought you do.”

“You little shit, I will…” Tony jumped from his chair as if stung by an adder, prompting Loki to draw one of his daggers seemingly out of nowhere when he started at him. Both Natasha and Steve barely managed to hold him back.

“Leave it, Tony. This is Loki. He is just trying to provoke you.” Nat appeased.

Just this one time, however, they were wrong. Loki did, in fact, care about you. It was just he had not realised that until you had willingly offered your body to him when he had been in pain. Glaring at them darkly, he rose from his chair.

“I am going to fix this.” He spat. It almost sounded like a threat. “Not for you. I could watch you drop dead to my feet without so much as blinking. But for her.” Fuming, he stormed out, his right fist still clutching at his dagger in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. And as of right now, Thor knew better than to stop him.

He needed to see you. Remorse and guilt were eating him up from the inside out—and it wasn’t just the fact you had helped him in spite of everything he had done to Midgard only a few years back. It was… you were… Loki closed his eyes for a brief moment. You were his.

When he knocked on your door, there was no response. Now there was a chance you were asleep, yet he somehow knew better than to leave and try again later as to not startle you. After all… he was going to make you feel better.

He slipped inside, locking the door behind him with magic so you would not be disturbed. The sight of you almost broke his heart. You were trembling, buried under a pile of blankets, pale and weak.

“(Y/N)…” He spoke with a quiet voice, approaching you slowly. Your eyes opened when you heard his voice, your weak body barely managing to turn over to look at him. A cough escaped your lips before you could answer him.

“Hey…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” You tried for a laugh but could only manage another cough. With a straight face, he sat down on the edge of the bed so he was able to bring his palm to your forehead. You were incredibly warm, yet the sweat made your skin cold to the touch. His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, he was worried you only had a few weeks left until your body gave up fighting the withdrawal. He would not, ever let this happen.

“I brought you some cold drinking chocolate.”

“Oh…” You chuckled weakly. “Thank you. Is that the only reason you came?”

“No,” he laughed. “I came to check on you.”

“An eye for an eye, huh?” Your eyes fell shut when you smiled.

“Hmm… I’m afraid it is a little more complicated than that.” He purred. You never noticed how his eyes fell on your crotch, even if it was covered by a bunch of blankets. Slowly but determined, he slid his left hand under the layers of fabric until he found what he was searching for. With skilled fingers, he began to massage your clit until he felt you responding to his attentive touches. You arched your back, your sex growing wetter and wetter fast—like your body knew exactly what would follow. Licking his lips, he scooped some of it up to spread all over your quim and create even more friction. You were squirming by the time he removed the blankets entirely and positioned himself between your legs, careful not to shift all of his body weight onto you.

Was he going to… did he… could he possibly… reciprocate your feelings? Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies awakening in your belly. If only you could…

“Loki… Loki, I… I really want to do this again too but… not now, I’m… I really don’t feel well.”

“Shhh…” He would ponder over your words later. You wanted to do this again too? Had it not just be compassion and pity that had driven you to offer him your most intimate parts for relief? And what if you refused him now? You had to trust him. So he shut you up by pressing his lips against yours, capturing them in a passionate kiss and then, once again slowly but determined, removed the blankets and peeled your pyjama from you until he had you naked—fine, he had helped with magic; and he was certainly too impatient to remove his own clothes, so instead contented himself with freeing his growing erection from his trousers only.

A whimper escaped your lips when you caught sight of his arousal, his tip—not blue but the colour of flesh this time—pressing against your entrance. He slid inside you to the hilt with almost no resistance, your warm pussy welcoming him in. Loki moaned when your walls gripped him tightly; it was like your body already knew his release would make it feel better. Only this time, he was in control. This time, he would take his time and make gentle love to you—right until you began to tremble underneath him for entirely different reasons.

Your eyes fell shut when Loki started moving, retreating almost completely only to plunge back deep inside of you fast and passionately. You were too weak to buck your hips, as much as you would have loved to. And despite your weariness, he felt incredible. You were unable to decide which form of his you liked better.

You kissed him again when his nose brushed against yours and his breath tickled your lips, bathing in the intimacy between you. But when he slid his hand down to where your bodies were united to pamper your clit all the while speeding up, hungry for his release, you stopped him, albeit gently.

“I… I don’t think I can, I’m too… but I… it’s okay.” You murmured. “Cum.”

It was a request he could not resist, not any longer. Thrusting forward a few more times, his release was beginning to overwhelm him. He groaned into your ear, his hot breath brushing against your cheek, and let his climax consume him. He was throbbing against your walls, his seed—surprisingly warm and not as cold as it had been the first time—filling you to the brim and until you could feel it dribbling out of you again. Loki stilled, turning you over so you both rested on the mattress on your sides, with his slowly softening cock still inside of you and one of your legs draped over his hips. One heartbeat passed, then another and another. And just like that… you felt like you had been reborn.

“How… I feel so much better.” Loki kept silent. Remorse was sparkling in his blue eyes. Avoiding your curious gaze, he looked down, with a start fascinated with the blue roses on your bed sheets.

“Loki?”

“You did fail to read all of it, did you not?” He stated quietly.

“What… what do you mean?”

“The book you took from my shelf. I looked it up when you got worse. It wasn’t until I left for Asgard that I realised why our… sexual encounter is making you ill.”

“I… wait… Does that mean you believe it has something to do with you? I mean… what we did? Is it… I’m not pregnant, am I!?”

“No. You are not.” He smirked at you weakly. “That, I would have sensed already. No… I’m afraid it is a little more complicated. Frost Giants live in strictly monogamous relationships. They never… switch their partners once they mated during their first heat. If they do…” Loki took a deep breath. “It appears that the seed of a Frost Giant triggers some sort of… addiction for their female partner. They develop a carnal craving for their seed which forces them to keep returning for… more.”

Biologically speaking, this was a downright bulletproof way of ensuring the survival of a species—the Jötuns’ own bodies turning against them and demanding sex. The gravity of his words, however, hit you only a moment later. So this was why you had been feeling so sick lately. You were showing signs of… addiction. Your body had become addicted to Loki’s seed. You swallowed thickly.

“I-is there… is there a way to stop this?”

“I went to speak to my former partners back on Asgard—which, to be frank, does not just sound like a disaster. But I needed to know if they experienced any symptoms similar to yours when we… separated.” You ignored the painful sting in your heart when he said ‘former partners’. Of course Loki had had sex before, had perhaps even been in love. He did not strike you as the type of Norse God who was unexperienced in the art of love making. After all, he had more than just proved this to you. It mattered not, not now.

“And… did they?” You probed nervously.

Loki nodded seriously. “They were both bedridden for months, plagued by uncontrollable trembling and sweating. Their appetite increased, they ate twice as much than they usually would without ever feeling truly full… and they barely slept anymore, tossing and turning for most of the night. Amora added she became increasingly violent as well. They, of course, believed it was a virus which would pass, eventually.” Terrified, you remembered how you had broken your plate in the kitchen the night after your lovemaking. It all made sense now.

But you did not dare ask what this meant. When dreaming of having a relationship with Loki, you had not imaged a partnership out of physical and sexual necessity which would feel like a chore to him; like an obligation now that you had helped him out, after all.

“But they were Asgardian.” He suddenly said, pausing to let his words sink in. “You are human. You are mortal. I am uncertain you would survive…” If I stopped having sex with you. Is that what he had meant to say before he stopped himself abruptly?

Taking a deep and shaky breath, you gathered all of your courage, as weak as it may be.

“This is all my own fault, Loki.”

“It is not—“

“N-no, let me speak. It’s my fault. You couldn’t help it. And I came to you on my own accord. But…” You swallowed. “Even if I had known, I still would have helped you.”

The God of Mischief frowned when you reached for his hand and held it—but it was a downright vulnerable expression.

“Loki… I’m not going to expect you to keep having sex with me if you don’t… I mean…” It was then he began to smirk cheekily.

“And if I do?” Loki had truthfully speaking always been a puzzle—always keeping his deepest thoughts and feelings all to himself. Until now. So he did reciprocate your feelings.

“Y-you do?” His smirk widened.

“It… does get better after a while, once the pair is more acquainted to each other’s bodies,” he continued. “And they are then able to spend more time apart without any signs of withdrawal showing. Ultimately, however, once the male Jötun claimed her, the female is bound to him… if he decides to keep her.”

Despite your weakness, you raised an eyebrow. “That sounds pretty sexist, Lokes.” Loki looked up. His heart jumped when you gave him a nickname.

“Sexist? No. Dominant? Yes.” He growled darkly.

“You’re right. It’s probably not sexist given that male Frost Giants go into heat.” You giggled in response. Loki tickled your sides for that remark, making you wriggle around on the bed. If your hunch was not deceiving your love-drunken mind, then the God of Mischief had just begun to court you.

“Loki?” You mused, raising your voice in a shy manner.

“Hmm?”

“I think I feel fit enough now to have an orgasm.”

The God of Mischief laughed—as heartily as you had never heard him laugh before. “Do you now?”

Next thing you knew he was already on top of you again, covering your naked body with tender kisses.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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lizzie-is-here · 2 years

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acta, non verba

captain america: civil war: part iii

summary: you’re not going to lose another family.

wordcount: 4.5k

warnings: cussing, violence, arguing, familicide, death, guilt, brainwashing, manipulation, me not knowing how to conclude this

series masterlist

This was not the situation you planned for. When you started explaining to Barnes how you’d signed up for experiments, you’d expected him to shoot you, or fight you at least. But instead, he’d told you it wasn’t your fault, and now you were on a quinjet with him and Steve, landing in Siberia to fight some doctor.

Awkward.

You checked your phone. Tony had texted you a few times.

‘Oh god you’re on that quinjet aren’t you’

‘Rhodey’s suit fell. He’s alivebut we’re rufhaing him to the hospiatl. I’ll updatw when possible. Stay safe kid’ You stared at the text, deciphering his misspellings.

‘His lower body’s paralyzed. I’m gonna make him some prosthetics’

‘The rest of Cap’s team is being sent to the Raft. Did you see that in the Accords?’

Your eyes widened, brain running into overdrive. Was Rhodey okay?

“The team’s being put into the Raft,” you muttered, standing.

“What’s that?” James asked, walking toward you as you projected an image.

“High-security prison in the middle of the ocean. It was a clause in the Accords.” Steve hung his head as you explained. You’d chewed your lip raw over the past few hours, and tried your best not to further hurt it.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry about all this. You warned us and-“

“It’s alright. Just help me fix it, okay?” You sighed, too tired to argue anymore. The lack of rest and abundance of stress was cracking your mind, thoughts loud and unorganized.

“How’s Rhodey?”

You glanced away. “Paralyzed. Waist down. Shattered spinal column.” Steve sucked in a breath, turning his attention back to the controls.

The jet descended without a problem, snow drifting up around the engines.

“I need a gun,” Barnes muttered to himself, going to open Nat’s weapon’s shelf.

“I wouldn’t advise touching hers, James. Grab one of mine instead. The case to the left of hers.” He nodded and grabbed a machine gun that you hadn’t touched in months, inspecting its condition.

“Why don’t you call him Bucky?” Steve whispered to you, opening the hangar.

“I don’t know,” you said. “You always told me it was, like, a friends-only thing. Didn’t wanna intrude.” You shrugged and sheathed your sword across your back, listening for the click to confirm that it was in place.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked his friend. It was a test, poorly hidden. If Barnes noticed, he didn’t comment.

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” At Steve’s chuckle, he smiled.

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” the blond teased.

“What was her name again?”

“Dolores. You called her Dot.”

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“So are both of you,” you interrupted with a grin. “Let’s get this show on the road so I can make lasagna for team dinner.”

As you all stepped from the quinjet, the conversation continued.

“You do team dinners?” Barnes asked, not bothering to shield his face from the wind.

You nodded as you came to a pair of open doors. “The original agreement was that we take turns cooking, but that was annulled after Rogers over here nearly burnt down the kitchen.” He laughed, quieting as Steve peeked in the doors.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” he said. You recognized the “Captain America” voice.

“Long enough to wake them up,” James warned, clutching your gun a little tighter. Inside the dark building, you three descended an old elevator, each guarding the others’ backs.

You stalked behind them, twisting your sword in your right hand, a gun in your left. Each dark corner was a risk. Every noise a warning.

As the two super-soldiers started up a set of stairs, a loud thud echoed behind you. You were in the open, but simply approached the sound. An assassin wouldn’t make that mistake.

The door creaked before a light shone through. Tony.

“Oh, thank fuck,” you muttered, watching as he opened the doors all the way. He opened the helmet and continued walking forward despite the gun trained on him.

“You seem a little defensive,” he called as you stepped toward him.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve responded, shield still up. Tony glanced at the man aiming at his head.

“At ease, Soldier. I’m not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here?” Steve continued.

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Ross has no idea I’m here, I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise I gotta arrest myself.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork for (Y/N). It’s good to see you, Tony.” He finally lowered the shield.

“You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you’re killing me,” Tony called to Barnes. “There’s a truce here. You can drop… Is that (Y/N)’s gun?”

You wiped your eyes. “Look, it’s good to see you two joking again, but can we get a move on? I hate this place, gives me bad vibes.”

“You’re in a HYDRA facility, and your best description is ‘bad vibes’?” Tony asked as the four of you moved on.

“I’m running out of snarky remarks after the superhero custody battle that just happened,” you groaned, eliciting a few chuckles.

“Aren’t you a lawyer?” Barnes asked.

“Not that kind,” you stated, holding your hands up. The lighthearted mood darkened as you entered a larger room, metal supports arching and twisting. A few fluorescent lights flickered, casting sickly yellow light across the floor.

Six cryo tubes were stationed around the room, fog pouring from their vents. As you got closer, you peered into one. The Soldier was inside, and she was…dead. A bullet wound straight through the skull.

“If it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep.” The false interrogator’s voice echoes over dusty intercoms.

“Did you really think I wanted more of you?”

“What the hell?” James asked, once again readjusting his grip on your gun. If he held it any tighter, it’d crack. Then again, you didn’t really need it.

“I’m grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” A light flickered on, revealing the man behind the voice. Tony and Steve were quick to attack, but the glass window merely deflected the blows.

“Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony shouted. He and Steve began circling one way as you and Barnes went the other.

“Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you’d never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve asked as he approached the window.

“I’ve thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you’re standing here…I just realized… there’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.” The man chuckled.

“You’re Sokovian. Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I’m here because I made a promise.” You joined Steve, peering into the window best you could.

“You lost someone?” you asked, sympathy edging into your mind.

“I lost everyone.” You nodded. You had felt the same bitter anger when you’d discovered your family had died. Your first suspicion was that it had been a hit, and you were hellbent on revenge. You were ready to tear and break and kill to avenge them. But you can’t kill a house fire.

“And so will you,” he promised, boring holes through your head with his stare. Pressing a switch, a computer screen blinked on, date displayed on the screen.

December 16, 1991.

It was the same date as the mission report he’d asked the Winter Soldier for. It sounded familiar, but you couldn’t remember why…

“An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead. Forever.” The same lesson SHIELD had taught you. The very tactic you employed in toppling regimes. Target someone on the inside, turn the group against each other. This doctor, whoever he was, had played an elaborate game of chess with the world as his pawn.

Surveillance footage started rolling, and Tony took a few double-takes, staring at you.

“I know that road.” Why would he recognize a dirt road? What was so goddamn important about December 16-

“What is this?” Oh.

In the footage, a car crashed, motorcycle zooming past it. It doubled back, the rider stepping around to the driver’s side. A man stumbled from the car.

Howard Stark had died on December 16, 1991 in a car wreck on the way to the Pentagon. His wife Maria had also died. But this wasn’t just a car wreck.

Looking back at Barnes, he met your gaze.

“You need to run,” you mouthed to him, glancing at the several exits. He shook his head.

“Help my wife.” Howard’s voice crackled over the old film and your heart stopped. As the Winter Soldier lifted him from the ground, he spoke again.

“Sergeant Barnes?” As the Soldier punched square in the face, knocking him out, you took a shaky inhale.

“James. Get out of here, please,” you pleaded, hoping to avoid the inevitable. The man next to you stayed firmly in place.

“Howard!” Maria’s voice was as desperate as yours, and your hands shook. While Tony had harbored a dislike for his father, he’d always spoken so highly of Maria. As Tony stared at Barnes, you wished she’d died from the impact of the crash.

The Soldier stared straight into the camera before shooting it. A final bullet to your gut as a farewell from HYDRA.

As the screen blacked out, you raced over to Tony, trying to separate him and Steve. He jumped to attack James, but you and Rogers both grabbed his arms.

“Tony, please.” You were doing a lot of pleading today. He ignored you to stare at Steve.

“Did you know?”

“I didn’t know it was him.” He was never a good liar.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?”

“Yes.”

At the confession, Tony let go as if Steve was on fire. He tugged you with him, never breaking eye contact. As he shook his head, you thought maybe, maybe, you could talk him down.

Instead he backhanded Steve, sending the super-soldier tumbling. Barnes was quick to aim his gun, but was disarmed.

The doctor behind it all stepped back from the window with a smug grin. Fucking psychopath.

Tony flew past, preparing to blast the ex-Soldier in the face when Steve threw the shield. The two began to fight again, matching blow for blow as you watched in horror.

There wasn’t a way to de-escalate this without putting yourself in harm’s way. Help one and the other turns on you too. Was this what Sam meant when he told you about the day he lost Riley?

“It’s like I was up there just to watch.”

This was different. It had to be. Taking a running start, you slammed into Steve, knocking him over before whirling around to knock Tony flat on his ass. You frantically aimed your gun, not sure what to do now that you were in the middle.

“Tony, it wasn’t him!” you yelled, still turning in a circle.

“Move!” he yelled, soaring upward.

Tony blasted Steve and threw handcuffs that wrapped around his ankles. As soon as he saw them land, he was back to trying to kill James. A deflected missile crashed into a metal pillar. Steve was quick to break free and jump back into the fray.

As the building crashed around you, you ran to find the other three. Even if they were superpowered, they couldn’t survive the collapse.

You saw Barnes running, Tony barely missing his head with a repulsor shot. He slammed a control panel and the roof began to open, cold wind filling the underground base.

You leapt over rubble to him, raising your hands when he assumed a defensive stance.

“Take this, run. I can’t let him do something he’ll regret.” As you were about to pass off your grappling hook, Tony fired again, shaking the platform you were on.

He kicked Barnes across the gap, and you winced as he slammed onto another thin platform. Praying that Tony would hover for a moment, you jumped down, landing square on his shoulders and briefly weighing him down.

“Fucking run, James!” you shouted as Tony scrambled to push you off.

“I don’t want to fight you, Tony, but you’ve gotta stop,” you screamed over the whirring of the Iron Man suit.

He landed before undoing his helmet.

“He killed my mom.”

His tone was cold, nothing like the man you’d come to know over the past eight years. He was gone before you could stop him, following after the two super-soldiers.

You cradled your aching legs, anticipating the bruises that would come with having landed on a metal suit while wearing cargo pants. You definitely were out of commission for a while.

As the three continued their ascent, you stared at the ground. No better time to look for answers than when your friends were fighting to kill one another. Reattaching your grappling hook, you descended onto the rubble and ran down the nearest hallway.

If there were files, you could maybe find one on the Winter Soldier and prove to Stark that he and James Buchanan Barnes weren’t the same. Your feet ran on buried memories, taking you to a dark room. The doctor could be anywhere.

An explosion from a nearby room shook the building. You readjusted your footing, and hesitantly switched on a flashlight. Lots of physical files. Great.

Most of the boxes were in Russian, labels mainly revolving around missions, but one with english letters caught your eye.

‘James B. Barnes’

As you lifted it to your eye level, you read the description of the box’s contents.

‘Detailing the control and history of Sergeant James B. Barnes under the Winter Soldier Project.’ Perfect. You tucked the box under one arm as you further perused the shelves.

You screeched to a halt in front of a box, fingers tracing each letter.

‘Ворон’ Raven. Or Crow, depending on the translation, but you understood. This was your box. Rather, boxes. There were at least a dozen.

Another blast shook the ground. You guessed they were still going at it on the floor under you. God, HYDRA could brainwash people but couldn’t afford thicker walls? Cheapskates, the whole lot.

You sighed as you scanned each box, reading the mission dates. These were better left untouched. You didn’t want to know what you’d done under their control. Maybe it was childish, but you preferred to avoid weeks of guilt. You were very much content with burning this room and every box in it to ashes.

At least, you were until you came across one date.

May 28, 2004. The last mission you’d gone on before your family died. After that, you taken a break, only returning to SHIELD when you realized you needed money to continue law school. You’d quit the experiments and favored short missions.

The box was light, containing only a few papers and a USB. Did you really want to see the monster behind your mind?

“Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back,” you whispered to yourself as you approached a dusty computer. You knew it had to be ancient, but HYDRA tech had a penchant for lasting.

It burst to life and you ran a hand over the screen, shaking away the dust coating your hand.

A younger you sat in the same chair that the other Winter Soldiers had sat in, posture rigid and eyes staring right at the camera.

“Soldier, mission report.” The unfamiliar voice had a thick Russian accent, but you supposed the English was so Pierce could understand.

“Mission successful, sir. Targets eliminated with no evidence. No alarms were triggered.” It was odd, seeing a teenage version of yourself so emotionless. It was like it was a completely different person.

“Sir? Why did I… why did I have to…” past-you took a deep breath. “Why was I sent to eliminate them?” A glimmer of humanity behind your cold eyes.

“They were trying to hinder these experiments. If they weren’t eliminated, you wouldn’t be able to reach your full potential.” The answer came easy from the man off-screen. On screen, your brows furrowed, lips pursing in a habit you still had today.

“They seemed familiar. Can I know their names?” Evidently, he was done answering your questions and yelled for guards. They dragged you from the chair with ease, leading you away. The man then walked into frame, holding up a file.

Your stomach turned at his cold stare and your finger twitched toward the USB. Maybe you could just unplug it and stay oblivious. You had a bad feeling about this.

“All four targets were successfully eliminated. The Raven was extracted from a safe house with no injuries and doesn’t seem to be coming to yet. No articles have been written, and SHIELD has not yet been alerted to the situation.”

Your breath hitched in the dark room. As he flipped the page, you waited to hear the names of the people you’d killed. You’d have to visit any family of the victims and apologize, try to explain.

“Target names: Elise (L/N), age 45. Donovan (L/N), age 47. Vivian (L/N), age 15. Jacob (L/N), age 11.”

Your screams echoed through the building, even if you didn’t hear them yourself. Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your gasps.

You were the killer. You’d been a fool to think that a house fire could take out two SHIELD agents, a fool to pretend that you didn’t know better.

When they saw you storm the house, did they welcome you? Ask what you were doing when you stalked forward with a weapon? Did they fight back? Did you hesitate when they screamed your name?

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” You could practically hear them.

“(Y/N)?” The hand on your shoulder jarred you and you scrambled away, knocking over a chair. Steve and Barnes stood over you, concern washing both their faces at your panic.

“Don’t- don’t touch me,” you whimpered, curling in. Barnes glanced at the screen and sighed, casting a pitiful look back at you.

“What did you see?” He thought it was about him.

“I- I killed them,” you sobbed. Steve knelt down, but you flinched away. “I’m a monster, Steve.”

“What? Who did you kill?” Flashes of memories flooded your mind. You helping your siblings with math as your father cooked. Your mother was talented in many activities, but not so in the kitchen.

“Mom. Dad. Vivi and Jacob. Oh, God.” You fell into sobs again as Steve’s face fell.

“Oh, no,” he whispered, turning back to his friend for a moment before trying to pull you into a hug.

“Please don’t touch me,” you tried, falling into the embrace anyway.

“We need to get Tony,” you heard the blond mutter.

“Right after we all beat each other up?” They’d done what?

“Yeah, he knows her better. You stay here with her and I’ll try to get him.” He pulled away as you continued crying. That stupid fucking recording was probably still rolling. You barely registered Steve leaving and Barnes sitting next to you, leaving at least two feet between you two.

He sat in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. What was he supposed to say? How do you comfort someone that just figured out she murdered her family while trying to help him?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You nodded.

“I am too.”

That was all that needed to be said.

Two sets of footsteps came running, the two leaders of the Avengers turning a corner and into the room.

“Kid?” Whatever fight had happened was evident. Now that your eyes were clearing, you saw the various cuts and bruises on all three men. Tony’s helmet was shattered. Steve’s shield was missing.

You stared at him as he sank to your level.

“Kid, Steve told me what happened-“

“Do you blame me, too?” If he held so much anger against James, he had to feel the same about you.

His silence was telling.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“(Y/N)-“ You turned away, picking up the discarded box on Barnes and shoving it into his hands.

“Don’t talk to me, Stark.” You stumbled on your feet, legs shaking under the weight of your conscience. Your head spun.

“I need- I need to go…” Your voice was heavy.

“Where?” Steve asked, leaning in.

“I need to go to their… graves.” The word was bitter. He and Tony both stepped forward, glancing at each other with distrust.

“I’ll take you. These two need to get out of my sight before I come to my senses and-“ You shook your head.

“I can’t lose two families in one day. Please.”

Tony stared at you like you’d grown another head.

“Kid, he killed-“

“If you really think he killed your parents, then you think I killed my baby sister and brother,” you spoke up, voice raising. “Do it, Tony. Tell me what I already know you think. That I’m no better than whatever thing HYDRA made out of me.”

He sighed. “You know I don’t think that.”

“Do I?”

“Fine. We take you there, and then what? They’re still fugitives.”

“You let me do what I wanted to do from the beginning.”

Steve spoke up again. “(Y/N), that’s a lot of work to take on right after you figured this out…”

“Please, let me do something good,” you asked teary-eyed. He hung his head, stepping toward you again and patting your back.

“Where were they buried?”

———————————————————————

Outside of the base, T’Challa revealed he’d overheard the whole thing, and was taking the doctor to be tried in court. You broke into tears again when he apologized for your loss.

The hours in the quinjet were even worse, with the three men doing their best to avoid each other and comfort you at the same time. By the time you touched down near a cliff side, Rogers and Stark had argued five separate times, you’d cried twice, and Barnes had very reluctantly patted your shoulder.

You were almost relieved to leave the tension behind when you set foot on the lush grass, starting toward the stone memorial.

What had been left of your family was cremated, a small funeral service held before you’d scattered their ashes over the cliff.

You traced their names as you sat before the large carved rock. You brushed some dirt from Vivian’s name.

“Hi. I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been back here. Sorry about that.”

“So, I figured out what really happened. I- I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t visit more often, I’m sorry I agreed to those goddamn fucking experiments-“ You ripped up grass and threw the blades.

“Sorry, Jacob. I know I shouldn’t cuss around you.” You paused, eyes tearing up for the umpteenth time.

“I wish you’d fought back. You could’ve won, ya know? I wasn’t very good. You let me… and that makes it so much worse. Why didn’t you just fight back?” You composed yourself before continuing.

“I’ve spent the last few months looking for the ex-Winter Soldier. He’s the reason I did those experiments, remember? I can’t remember if I told you that it’s Sergeant James Barnes, Cap’s friend? Vivi used to think he was so hot…” you laughed. “She must’ve shown me the picture 20 times.”

You glanced back to where he, Steve, and Tony stood, keeping a respectful distance.

“He’s pretty cute.”

“I know you wouldn’t want me to dwell on this, and, honestly, I don’t want to. I know you forgave me twelve years ago. It’s still gonna be a while before I fully forgive myself, though.” You could practically hear your mother, ranting about how you always held onto things long after they’d been fixed.

“I know, Mom. I promise I’m working on it. It’s just hard to not feel responsible… I technically am. Barnes didn’t have a choice, but I chose the experiments and…” You choked back more tears.

“Damn, you’d think with how many times I’ve come, I’d stop crying,” you chuckled, wiping your eyes.

“I just wanted to stop by now that I know the truth. Wanted to apologize for everything. God, I’d do anything to have you guys here right now.”

“I love you all, okay?”

After three visits, you’d gotten used to not receiving a response, but this time hurt more.

Watching as you rose to your feet, the trio behind you made awkward conversation.

“Did you ever come here?” Steve asked as he watched you stand. Tony shook his head.

“She told me about it once or twice. It’s a nice area.” He could picture the house that once stood where the memorial now was.

You stepped away from the stone, walking back over to the group.

“How are you?” You shrugged.

“Can we go home?” Tony hesitated, casting a glare at Barnes. Finally, he nodded.

“What are we going to do about the Accords?” he asked. Steve shot him a look of disapproval.

“Tony-“

“Listen, just because shit like this happens doesn’t mean that we get a break. You and your war buddy over there are still breaking the law, and (Y/N)’s the only one who can fix it.” You knew he was right, but you needed some time.

“Tony, can you call Ross for me?” He stared down at you before agreeing. You took his advanced phone in your still-shaking hands and put it on speaker. You cleared your throat and did your best to sound confident.

“Hello?”

“Secretary Ross.”

“Agent (L/N). To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Two things, actually. One, I’m petitioning to get pardons for Sergeant James Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, and Wanda Maximoff.”

“Funny, (L/N). Barnes and Romanoff are on the run, Maximoff’s in prison. You don’t stand a chance against the UN.”

“I didn’t call for a chance. Second, I want the Sokovia Accords nullified.”

“You can’t make that demand.”

“I think I can. I’ll see you in court next month.” You said with a sarcastic grin, hanging up before he could get in another word. You dropped the facade as you handed the phone back to Tony.

“I know what you’re doing. Stay busy and ignore the actual problem,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“I know.”

“It’s not healthy.”

“I know.”

“You really shouldn’t-“

You groaned. “Are you a therapist or an Avenger?”

“Stark’s right, you should deal with this first,” Steve agreed, waving to your disheveled state.

“Too bad, Rogers. I’m already scheduling meetings.” You tapped away on your phone.

“Why are you so hellbent on the team staying together?”

“Listen. You guys are the first family I’ve had in forever. And today I found out that I’m a child-murderer-“

“You’re not”

“-and I’m trying really hard to prevent losing another family. So just… cooperate with me, okay?”

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and looked back to the quinjet. You’d deal with the self-loathing and recovery some other day. Time to get down to business.

a/n: hnnnng, okay so i know the ending is a bit sloppy and the whole mental thing doesn’t quite make sense yet, but i promise it will soon. i honestly don’t know how to feel ab this one but i’ve had that twist in mind forever and really wanted to try and integrate it. sorry if this is bad, hope you enjoy anyway! <3

#marvel #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #x reader #acta non verba #avengers #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america: civil war x reader #captain america civil war #captain america: civil war #cacw #cacw x reader

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emf005 · 3 years

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I'm Trying

Here is my weekly post! I hope you guys enjoy, this is a personal fave of mine. Please let me know what you think of it! I love to get feedback!

Marauders Era

Sirius Black x Fem! Reader, Remus x Twin sister! Reader. Marauders x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mini make out sesh, sort of self harm, fear

You stole a piece of chocolate from your stash. You always had a secret stash in case you brother, Remus, ever ran out before the full moon. But you also had a bit of a sweet tooth yourself. Well, you could call it more than that actually. See, while your brother was a full werewolf, you were about half, but he didn’t know that. If he knew that he would actually lose it. The only person who knew was Lily, and she had found out by accident.

So, while your brother would always turn into a werewolf on full moons, you only sometimes did. You also got mood swings to the max. But no one ever questioned it because they assumed it was just girl stuff. And the four boys you hung out with, no matter how close you were, didn’t really want to strike up a conversation about that. Ever.

You see, your turning started your second year at Hogwarts. You woke in the forbidden Forest feeling like you had been hit with a ten ton bus. You put two and two together and started to ask Lily’s friend, Severus, if he could brew you a potion in secret. So I guess you could say two people knew. But it wasn’t like Severus would tell on you. You were always nicer to him than your friends were and he seemed to appreciate that. So, he always made you a potion while slughorn made Remus his.

James often asked why you never joined them. While your brother couldn;t become an animagus, you could for some odd reason. You turned into a small black and white ferret, while your brother couldn;t change at all. You felt bad, it was your fault he was like this, and despite his countless times he had told you it wasn’t your fault you both knew it was. But everytime James would ask Remus would answer for you.

“I don;t want her out there. I’m her brother. It's my job to protect her. I wouldn;t be able to live with myself if I accidentally did something to her.” You always clenched your jaw at his response. He still saw you as a little kid, despite being his twin. You couldn’t stand it!

You never thought anyone noticed these secret feelings you held against your brother. Oh how you were wrong. Sirius Black always noticed when Remus would say something to upset you. And he was always the one there for you. See, despite his liking for it, he had caught feelings for you. He thought he could trample them by asking out every girl in the school, but that only seemed to make his want for you grow. But he never said anything. You were his best friend’s twin sister. It was just wrong, no matter how strongly he felt for you.

The full moon was coming up again soon, and you ran down the hall to see your brother and friends waiting for you. Remus looking in his bag frantically.

“Hey, guys!” You smiled with fake cheer. You felt awful today, but you couldn;t let anyone see that. They might grow suspicious of your secret. “What's wrong, Rem?”

“He didn’t restock his backpack again with chocolate.” Peter squeaked. Remus threw him a dirty glance before rooting through his bag again. You internally groaned. You always had a stash in your bag, and you really needed it today. But, you were his sister. Sacrifices must be made. You slung your bag around and grabbed your whole stash and filled his bag with it. You even let him finish the one you had been munching on, much to your disappointment.

“Thank you, Y/N/N,” he said, stuffing the chocolate bar in his mouth. You just smiled at him and put your head down and clutched your messenger bag harder. White knuckling the strap. God, you wanted to rip the chocolate out of his mouth and just eat it. But no. You were a fucking good sister. And a fucking good sister you would stay.

Classes were a pain all day, especially with the smell of chocolate enveloping you every time Remus would open a new package. You had broken four quills by lunch and they were all joking about it.

You all headed out of your final class and down to the great hall, like you normally did. BUt Remus seemed to be in an even worse mode. You were glad he had the chocolate, he might’ve actually murdered someone. You, on the other hand, were so close to murder, but you had to keep that damn smile on and your shirt pulled up high onto your shoulder tightly, despite the heat. That's where Greyback had gotten you. Just a nip on the shoulder before remus thought it was a good idea to attempt to hit him with a chair. Key word, attempt.

Remus was on the end of the line bsides you. Some slytherin accidently knocked into him and he let out a growl as he kept walking and talking to the Huffelpuff. Here we go.

“You got a problem?” He whipped around, staring at the boy clad in green robes. The boy looked at him confused. You recognize him. Your year, Jacob Jemesky. One of the cutest boys in your year. I mean, his eyes alone were perfect enough.

“I’m sorry?” He asked. You put a hand on Remus’s shoulder.

“Rem,” but he shook you off and walked up to the boy.

“I said, you got a problem, Snake?”Your eyes widened and you became red faced. You walked over to him and pulled him away from the Slytherin, shoving him to SIrius and James who held him back and tried to get hima away from the situation.

“I am so sorry about that, Jacob, right?” You nodded a smile on his lips.

“Yeah. And no worries. Your, Y/N, right?” You blushed slightly.

“Yeah. Its nice to finally meet you. We’ve shared a few classes I think.” He nodded before his eyes flashing back to your brother.

“Is he alright? I really didn’t mean to-”

“He’s fine. Trust me. He just gets moody from here and there. I think its like a twin thing between me and him, knowing when one is going to have a bad day and all.” He nodded.

“Well, I have to get going, but I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He waved and started to leave.

“See you around!” You waved back. Your smile dropped as soon as he turned the corner. You took a few deep breaths and walked over to your brother who was still trying to get out of James and Siris’ grips. “You two can let go now.” The boys did as you said but were ready to grab him at any second.

“What the hell was that for, Y/N?” He shouted at you, making your back straighten, ready to take it all. He just had to yell at someone sometimes, and the majority of the time it was you.

“He didn’t do it on purpose, Rem. You know that. You just need to calm down for a second, ok?”

“Calm down? I am calm!” James went to say something but you just shook your head at him. You weren’t going to let them take any of this heat.

“Rem, you're really not. Please just-”

“Don;t tell me what to do, Y/N! I am sick of you trying to constantly manage every little thing that I do. You can’t even begin to understand what I go through! You have no right to tell me to calm down. Or to tell me what I am and what I’m not. You know why? Because I am a fucking werewolf becuase of you,” every bit of air was sucked out of the empty corridor. Luckily empty. But he didn’t stop there. “I took that bite for you! We both know it was your fault! You were too naive to even think for a second that it wasn;t smart to go outside that early in the morning when the moon was still out! It was all yoru fucking fault! So don;t tell me what to do, or how to feel or any of that, because this is all happening because of you!”

You stood frozen as his breath calmed. You had tears slipping down your cheeks which was a strange sight for everyone in your friend group. Yo never cried. But hearing Remus admit that it was your fault, you couldn’t handle it anymore. The dam just broke. You swallowed, trying to get the lump in your throat away.

“Are you better, Remus?” He just stared at you, his eyes turning from rage to fear as he heard what he had said and how you referred to him as Remus and not Rem or bro or some stupid nickname you had given him. You smiled sadly and wiped a tear away. “I’m glad. I’m glad that finally admitting the truth makes you feel better.” You turned and started to walk down the hall only to stop and look over your shoulder. “You know. I just have to say this because I have for a while now. I have always tried my best to be there for you. Always tried to be patient. Always tried to take care of you when you wouldn’t let me do more. And also, I’m not the bloody moron who hit Fenrir Greyback with a chair and didn’t have the arm strength for it and ended up falling out a window!” You spit at him before walking down the hallway, tears streaming down your face at this point.

Remus opened his mouth to call after you, but he saw Sirius bolting after you instead. He had fucked up majorly. He knew it. James took him by the shoulder and directed him towards the Great Hall. James being the only one who knew of Sirius’ crush on you and knowing that Sirius would be able to calm you down better than any of them. And if he couldn’t, then Remus had just gotten himself into a deep deep deep hole.

You sat in the small alcove you had found your first year. It was in a secluded part of the courtyard, only your lily and Sirius knew about it. Which sucked because they knew exactly where to look for you.

Your head was in your knees and silent tears continued to pour down your face and on your knees. You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to feel. You just didn’t know.

“Y/N?” You looked up to see Sirius standing by the entrance of the alcove. He had pushed aside the vines that hid you from view and was watching you, waiting to see what you would do. You sat up quickly and brushed the tears aside, smiling at him.

“Hey, Sirius,” your voice cracked and you cringed. He gave you a small pitiful smile and made you move over so he was sitting next to you. “Is he ok?”

“He will be,” you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.

“I shouldn’t have stormed off. Or said any of that,” Sirius frowned.

“You know Moony is my best friend, but he started that argument.”

“Yeah but with the full moon coming up… he’s just on edge, and I know that. And he was right, I just didn’t expect him to say it like that. I over reacted.”

“You were just helping out a Slytherin, who you obviously like,” he hit your shoulder and you laughed, you felt your shirt fall down a bit off your shoulder but didn;t go to move it.

“I just find him attractive. That was the first time I've talked to him.” Sirius smiled through his pain and laughed with you. His eyes fell to your shoulder for a moment and he froze.

“Y/N/N, what happened?” He questioned looking at the small mark that the werewolf had left all those years ago. Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled your sleeve back up and cleared your throat standing.

“No-nothing. Um… I-I have to-to… uh.. To go. I’ll-I’ll see you, Sirius. Thank you,” you scurried out of alcove and dashed through the halls. You knew you couldn’t avoid him for long. I mean, the four of them had the marauders map, they would find you anywhere you went. You walked into the Great Hall, thankful to see Lily sitting by James. “Lily!” She looked over at you and her smile fell when she saw the state you were in. She excused herself and came running up to you, leading you out the Hall and to your room.

“Are you ok? James told me the blow out-”

“Sirius saw the scar,” you interrupted her. She froze.

“Does he know?” You shook your head.

“No. But I know he’s going to question me as soon as I’m alone. I just didn't want that to happen.”

“Not yet, you mean.”

“Ever.” She sighed, but didn’t push the subject. She was adamant that you should tell the boys about your… condition. You were adamant that you keep it to yourself, forever.. The fights between you and your twin would get worse, and you couldn’t let that happen.

Sirius walked into the Great Hall, scanning the Gryffindor table for you, he came up empty. He sat down, but kept searching the hall and glancing at the doors every now and then.

“What wrong, Mate?” James asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. Even Remus was eating, slowly, but eating.

“Nothing,” he mumbled and took a banana from the table. If you acted like that around him when he saw that scar, he could only imagine you didn’t want anyone else knowing about it. “Do you have the map?” James nodded and handed over the map from his pocket.

Quickly, Sirius unfolded it and searched for your name. You were in the girls dormitory with Lily. His leg started to bounce while he considered going after you. He could always ask Lily if he could have a second with you. He just wanted to make sure you were alright. You seemed really upset when you stormed out.

Had you always worn long sleeves of some sort?

He handed the map back to James before standing up and heading towards the Gryffindor dorms. Maybe he could lure you out with some chocolate. He knew you were addicted to the stuff, practically eating it for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but you always gave your stash to your brother. Some days he wished you wouldn’t. Just because he noticed how you would stiffen at the smell of it, or when you heard a wrapper from your stash being un-did. He knew Remus needed it, but it seemed like you sometimes needed it just as much as he did.

He bumped into LIly in the common room, he opened his mouth but she held up a hand to silence him.

“Listen, I know you want to check on her. But she isn’t in the best state right now. Especially if you are going to be questioning her about what you saw.”

“I just want to make sure she’s alright. I won’t question her about it.” Lily bit her lip and thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. You had given the last of your chocolate stash to Remus the other day and were in desperate need. But she didn’t want to leave you alone with Sirius in the dorm. He knew how to get into the girl’s dormitory, no shock there, but seldom did it. And normally only did it to bug the hell out of you.

“I’m sorry. It really isn’t the best decision. I have to run out and get her more chocolate from the kitchens, the house elves keep a stash for her down there. Please, don’t go in.”

“I can grab some from Remus’ stash,” he offered. But she shook her head.

“Where do you think the rest of her stash went?” Lily smiled and left. Sirius sat down on one of the couches, his leg bouncing aggressively again. He knew he shouldn’t go into your dorm room. He really shouldn’t. But, the thing is, that only made him want to more.

“Lily?” He heard your voice and looked up and saw you on the staircase, looking worse for wear. Your eyes met his and you froze, visibly freezing.

“Hey,” he scrambled to his feet, but didn’t move towards you.

“H-Hey,” you stuttered, your eyes still locked on him.

“I-uh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. Why wasn;t he good at being sincere like this? “I came to check on you. See if you were alright.” You eyed him cautiously.

“Uh. Yeah. I-I’m fine.I-uh-well, I can’t exactly explain-” He shook his head.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I should. It was rude. And I still haven’t apologized to Rem,” you sighed and sat down on the stair, putting your head in your hands again. He slowly walked over and sat next to you, not talking. He just put his arm around your shoulders. You turned your head into him and he rested his chin on your head.

“You ok?” You let out a breathy laugh. And shook your head.

“Not really.”You heard the clock chime and knew Lily had gone to class and purposefully left you with Sirius, knowing of your… fondness... of him. Damn, you really needed chocolate. “Don’t you have to get to class?” He chuckled.

“When have I ever been on time?” You laughed, knowing how true his statement was. Only when he walked with you was he ever early or on time. Unless it was for transfigurations. He would stand outside the door until class was five minutes in before walking in dramatically, interrupting the entire class, and taking a seat next to you. Mcgonagall would huff in annoyance, but you knew she didn’t hate it. You also knew she knew what he didn everyday and never made any course of action to change it.

“Good point. But we are supposed to have transfiguration now. Don't you think Mcgonagall will miss you?”

“I bet she wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

Meanwhile in transfiguration:

“Ok, Black will be walking through the doors in three, two, one,” Mcgonagall kept talking but looked at the doors and waited for them to bang open with Sirius. Nothing happened. She began to sweat. “Where is he? What is he getting himself into? Did he die? Did someone else accidentally die and he is hiding the body?”

Back to the common room:

“Besides, I think you need a friend right now.” You smiled and nodded. “And chocolate.”

“Did I just get compared to chocolate?” He joked.

“You should be honored. I think very highly of chocolate. In my opinion it's better than christmas.” He laughed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Christmas comes once a year, chocolate is a year long thing.” he laughed again, and you smiled, proud that you could make him laugh like that. Then your smile faded as you thought if his girlfriend made him laugh like that.

It's not like you would ever date him. You might have a crush on him, but you not only had to keep your secret a secret, but he was also your twin brother’s friend. You couldn’t do that.

“We better get to class.” you lifted your self off him, both of you immediately missing the other person’s body heat. “Mcgongall probably thinks you killed someone.” he gave you a small smile as you ran up to your room to grab your bag. He grabbed his from the couch where he had set it. He slung it over his shoulder and you came running down the stairs, skipping the last four. “Ready?” You asked, your normal smile on your face. He smirked.

“Talking to me for a few minutes put that smile on your face?” He teased as you made your way out of the portal.

“No, I found a few bars of chocolate under my bed.” You said happily, pulling two bars out of your pocket. He rolled his eyes as you opened one and handed it to him. He stared at it for a moment before taking it.

“You don’t want it?”

“I might’ve found four and ate two while coming down the stairs.” He laughed and took a bite of his. You unwrapped yours and started eating away at it. You two made your way into Mcgonagall’s class, Sirius banging the door open.

“Minnie! Did you miss me?” He shouted. You shook your head and laughed as Mcgonagall just stared daggers at him. The class erupted into laughter, but stifled it at one glare from the professor.

“Mr. Black. How kind of you to join us. Same goes for you as well, Miss. Lupin,” her gaze was less harsh on you, but you still blushed and put your head down. You two slid into your seats and began to take notes. Luckily it had been a review day. And Sirius was a master at transfigurations, so he would help you after class since it, ironically, wasn’t your best subject(And by that I mean you were still a crazy master, just not your best class).

You two spent the lesson showing the other students up as you easily changed everything and answered questions correctly. Lily was even struggling a bit at the rate you and Sirius were commenting. Of course, yours were more sincere than Sirius’ sarcastic answers (that were always correct in some sense) but you two still ruled the lesson.

You all left the lesson, you headed down to the dungeons for potions with Remus and James while Peter, Sirius and Lily went to divinations. It was a tense silence, you walking ahead of the boys with your head down and your books pressed against your chest. James joined you in front which you were grateful for, but you knew he was trying to get you to talk to Remus. You just needed a little while, and you told him as much. He just nodded and continued walking with you to potions. You sat towards the back of the class and left Remus and James to sit in your usual spots. Someone sat besides you and you were about to ask them to move when you noticed it was Jacob.

“Hey!” You smiled kindly at the slytherin sitting beside you.

“Hi. I forgot we shared this class. You don’t mind if I?” You shook your head.

“No, of course not.” He smiled.

“You're normally sitting next to Lupin and Potter, right?”

“Yeah. Remus is my twin and we kind of just got the same group of friends. Surprising, right?" You chuckled and he chuckled with you. Slughorn began to teach and the two of you went to work on the assignment together. It wasn't a hard potion today. At least for you it wasn’t. Potions was your best class, although Slughorn was a terrible teacher. Well, it actually wasn't your best subject. That was defense against the dark arts. Potions was a close second.

"Alright class, for your next assignment you will be working with the person at your table for. You will be brewing and writing on a potion I will randomly select for each of you," you looked over at Jacob with a smile.

"Looks like we're partners," you beamed. He smiled back excitedly.

"Looks like it, Lupin. I'll start cleaning up, why don't you go up and get our assignment?" He suggested. You nodded and headed to the front, meeting James on the way.

"You and Jacob?"

"Yeah. He's pretty good at it, so whatever potion we get should be a piece of cake." You smiled up at him. He only offered you a small one in return, making you falter in confusion.

What was that about?

He went back to his table with your brother and you walked up to Slughorn.

"Ah, miss. Lupin! I was surprised to see you not with your brother."

"We had a bit of a disagreement earlier. I'm Jacobs' partner. What potion would you like us to complete?" He looked at you for a moment before his face lit up with an idea.

"How about amortentia? Yes, that would suit you two nicely,” he declared. You rolled your eyes. That was the cheesiest potion he could have given you.

“Sounds great, professor! I’ll tell Jacob and we’ll get to work on it right away,” you turned and sulked back to your table. He noticed the look on your face.

“What did he give us?”

“Amortentia.” Jacob rolled his eyes.

“Honestly? How many times has he given that out to students, can’t he be the least bit more creative?” You chuckled and grabbed your bag from the back of your chair and clung it over your shoulder before gathering your notebook.

“I completely agree. So, how about we meet in the library tomorrow to start on the paper and divy up the work?”

“Sounds good to me!” He smiled as you two walked out of the classroom, chatting a bit more as you left. You were so caught up in your conversation with Jacob you missed a black haired boy waiting for the three of you. He was leaning up against the wall, as he normally did, with his hands in his pockets and his bag by his one foot. The sight of you walking out with Jacob made him freeze and just stop breathing all together.

James and Remus followed the two of you out a few seconds later, not paying any attention to what was going on with you as you laughed at something he had said. You were just standing in the middle of the hallway. What was that about?

“Sirius!” He snapped out of his trance when James’ voice cut through the air.

“Mmh?” He looked at Remus and James, who both had a worried look on their faces.

“You ok? You zoned out for about four minutes straight.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s your sister doing hanging out with that Slytherin you told to piss off earlier?” Remus whipped around and stared at you as you laughed again, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the Slytherin boy. He was the reason you two were fighting in the first place. That was a lie and Remus knew it, but that didn’t mean he had to admit it.

”She’s partnered with him for the project,” James clarified, causing both Sirius and Remus to look at him.

“He sat beside her,” Remus practically growled, tossing another glance as you waved goodbye to him and he did the same.

“What did you expect when she didn’t want to sit by us? He obviously took a liking to her earlier in the hall.”

“Why didn’t she sit by you?” Sirius asked. “You two didn’t make up yet?” Remus grumbled something that no one could hear, but they didn’t really care. You started walking over, ignoring your brother’s presence all together.

“Hey, Sirius. Hey James. Ready to head to dinner?” It was quiet for a few seconds, Remus just staring at you.

“Yeah,” James finally broke the silence. “Lets-uh-let's get to dinner. Quickly.” He took you by your shoulder and started to rush you to the dining hall.

Nothing improved over the week. The full moon was coming closer, making both you and Remus even more on edge. The two of you had attempted to make up, but that just resulted in another, bigger, blow out. James and Peter had to hold Remus back as Sirius and Lily had to hold you back. Both of you were about to pumble each other. You finally threw a very nasty statement at him before storming up to your common room. In your defense he deserved it.

You started to distance yourself from all the Marauders, even Lily in some ways as you focused on your studies. You met Jacob in the library every day to work on your potion’s assignment, which seemed to get Sirius and Remus both in a twist, though one was better at hiding it than the other. That was when the third blow up happened. The day of the full moon.

“I can’t believe you are hanging around that Slytherin.” Remus spit out to you as you were all sitting in the common room before lunch. It was Saturday and none of you felt much like going outside since you would be out all night.

“Excuse me?” You asked with raised eyebrows, putting the book you were studying out of down.

“You heard me.”

“I did, and since when have you cared? Not like you've been in my life much,” you spat. He clenched his jaw and stared at you, all of your friends ready to jump in case you got into another fight.

“Since it's a blasted Sytherin.”

“That's not even a fair judgment. Have you ever even talked to him?”

“Why would I? A pretty boy pure blood who comes from a rich family?” he scoffed. “Sounds like a fun time.” You bristled.

“You just described Sirius!” You yelled. You turned to Sirius. “No offense, of course,” he held up his hands.

“You called me pretty, I’m happy.” You rolled your eyes at him, not helping the butterflies in your stomach when he said that.

“Yeah, but he isn’t a Slytherin!”

“You're condemning all Slytherins to being evil now?”

“Aren’t they?” you were both on your feet now, causing everyone else to join you.

“No you ignoramus! And if you could see two inches past your fucking nose, then you would know that!”

“Name one person other than your precious boyfriend!”

“Slughorn!”

“Bet you can;t do it again.” He challenged. You sneered.

“Snape!” He laughed.

“Really? Him? You decide that he is not evil? Have you seen him?”

“Have you looked in the mirror much? You aren’t the model yourself!” He sneered.

“How about you?”

“What about me?:”

“You look as bad as I do, dare I say worse! And your chocolate consumption has become twenty times it normally is! Now you are hanging around a Slytherin and constantly fighting with me!”

“Me-” you laughed harshly and dramatically. Making it sound almost hysterical and mad. “Your the one who picks the fucking fight everytime!”

“Becuase you make stupid descions!”

“Like hitting a beast in the back with a chair from the top of a two story house?”

“Y/N,” Lily warned from beside you.

“To only save your arse from becoming what I am!”

“Yeah, well, bang up job, Remus Lupin! A for effort I suppose!”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Silencio!” Lily yelled, pointing her wand at you. You yelled a string of curses at her and your brother before storming out of the common area. She shot Remus a glare, something that didn’t happen often.

“You know, she’s going to Hogsmead with him next weekend. I suggest you get your act together before then and actually support something your sister is doing before you remove her from your life completely,” she hissed and chased after you. All the boys were frozen from, not only Lily’s scolding, but the fact that you were going to Hogsmead with him. Sirius felt ill and just stood in place, frozen.

“Great,” James mumbled. “They’re both broken now. At least we are ok, Peter,” He looked over to where Peter had been standing. Now the boy was passed out on the ground. James sighed and shook his head. “Never mind.”

Lily found you in your normal spot, silently crying to yourself. She removed the spell and your sobs were so loud she almost silenced you again. She sat down besides you, but you made no move to put your head on her shoulder like you normally did.

She knew you didn’t want to talk to her right now. She knew it was Sirius that you wanted to speak to, but you had just announced that you were going to Hogsmead with Jacob. Sirius was trying to get over that fact.

“We should probably go meet Sev,” she murmured in your ear. “The potion will make you feel better.” You just shook your head and tried to catch your breath.

“I-I’m fine. I just… I just need a minute.”

“You are going to hate me for saying this, but you need to make up with your brother and tell Sirius how you feel. You made it seem like you and Jacob were going on a date when you know that's not what's happening.” She scolded. You nodded your head, not being able to catch your breath from how hot you were, especially with all the clothes you had on.

“Can-can you help me get the jacket off? Please?” She nodded and started to pull at the sleeve, revealing an arm full of scars. You pulled the other sleeve off, prevailing a second arm full of scars. Your breathing slowed and you were finally able to catch your breath.

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes.

“I didn’t let anything slip. They-they don;t know anything, right?”

“I almost let you. But that wasn’t the right way to do it.” You nodded gratefully, tracing some of the scars on your arm. You were more on edge today, but, for once, you don;t think chocolate would help. But that was only because of Remus’ comment earlier.

“We should probably get your potion from Sev. I have a feeling tonight's going to be one of your… worse… ones.” You nodded, feeling it too. This wasn;t just going to be an irritating night, this was going to be a full on transformation.

“I’ll have to tie myself down in the Room of Requirement tonight,” you nodded, agreeing.

“I don’t see why you tie yourself down. You take the potion.”

“What if it doesn’t work one night? You are going to have a second werewolf around and on the grounds. It's better if I just tie myself up and be prepared.” She sighed, knowing you wouldn’t see reason in this.

“Will you at least let me be in there with you?”

“Merlin, Lily! No! Are you mad?”

“Remus at least has-”

“And Remus is a normal werewolf. I am not. Something could go wrong at any moment and I am not letting anyone get remotely close to me. You know that!”

“I’m just saying-”

“No!” her eyes widened as you snapped at her. “It's not happening, so stop asking,” you stood up and walked out of the alcove in a huff, leaving her slightly stunned, your jacket sitting where you had once occupied. She thought about going after you and giving it back, but maybe this was what you needed. Someone else to know your secret.

You realized too late that you had forgotten your jacket and turned around to get it when you heard Sirius.

“Y/N! Wait a minute!” You froze before bolting in the direction towards the alcove you knew your jacket would be in. “Y/N!” He called after you again, his voice getting closer. You pushed yourself to run faster, only making you trip over your feet in the process and tumble to the ground with a cry. You were so close to your jacket. But Sirius caught up and froze when he saw your arms. His mouth opened and closed quickly.

You grabbed him and shoved him into an empty classroom, locking the door behind you and turning back to him. He was still staring at your arms and you sighed in frustration, letting a long string of profanities fall from your lips and you paced the room, pulling the skin from your lips, trying to figure out what to do.

You could obliviate him. Of course, that wasn’t the best course of action. You really didn’t want to obliviate your best friend. While you were thinking he came back to his senses.

“Y/N?”

“Mh?” You hummed, still thinking about what to do. He grabbed you and turned you towards him.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” His eyes scanned your arms.

“What happened?” You bit your lip and continued to pull it apart with your teeth. WHat could you tell him? “Y/N?”

“You're gonna kill me,” you mumbled and closed your eyes moving away from him and running your hand over your face.

“I-I won’t. Just-”

“I can’t, Sirius. I can’t tell you.” You looked back towards him with nothing but sorrow in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I just can’t tell you.” Then the pieces fit together. Your mood swings during the full moons, you always carrying chocolate and your ears always perking when you heard the wrapper. The way you “just knew” when someone was close by or something was headed your way.

“Please don’t tell me-”

“Please don’t worry about it,” you begged.

“I am staring at your scared arms. How am I not supposed to worry about it?” He raised his voice. It wasn’t a yell, but it still made you flinch. He noticed and lowered his voice again. “Y/N, I need you to tell me the truth here,” you looked down and he walked closer to you. Careful steps. Very careful steps. “That night Remus got turned into a werewolf, did he-” you nodded. Tears welling in your eyes. “But you can transform into an animagus.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I’m not a full one. I get testy around the full moon, but don’t always turn. And I carry the chocolate for Remus, mostly.” He shook his head.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because Remus has it ten times worse than me. Please don’t tell him,” you begged.

“Don’t tell him? How am I supposed to not tell him?”

“By keeping your mouth shut?” You attempted the joke, but he just shook his head at you. “Please. I am begging you, Sirius. I really need to meet Sev and I need my jacket an-”

“Snape?” You looked away and bit your lip. “Why do you…”

“He’s the best one at potions in our year. He was the only one who can, well, you know.”

“That's why you protected him when Remus said that stuff about Slytherins.”

“He’s helped me out since second year. And with all the turmoil happening between me and everyone, tonights going to be bad. I really need to get the potion off him. Like now. Please, I will tell you everything later, just please let me go and please don’t tell Remus.” His leg bounced as he stared at you from the table he sat down at. He shrugged off his own jacket and threw it over your shoulders.

“Get your potion. I expect everything to be explained tomorrow and I will not tell your brother, yet.” You smiled and hugged him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.” You mumbled into his neck as he hugged you back.

“Yeah yeah. Just be careful, ok?” he set you firmly on the ground again. “Promise me.” You nodded and slid your hands through the arm holes of his jacket. It was far too big for you, but you didn’t really care. First off because it was hiding your scars. Second off, you had Sirius Black’s jacket on, and that may or may not have made your heart beat out of your chest. And then if you add the way he was looking at you on top of that, you were dead.

“I promise. Thank you, Sirius. You are a life saviour.” You left the room and he stood staring at that door, cursing himself and needed to find Lily, pronto.

“Evans!” He yelled into the great hall where the red head was sitting. She looked over at him with an eye roll, but then noticed his serious expression. Which was, ironically, something he rarely had on his face. She stood up and scurried over to him and he pulled her out of the great hall. “You knew, didn;t you? About Y/N.” She shrugged, guilty.

“She made me swear to secrecy. Do you know where she went? She got mad at me and stomped off without her jacket. I’m assuming you-”

“Saw her hundreds of scars? Yes.”

“She showed you all of them” She creased her eyebrows and his eyes narrowed.

“All? Where is all?” Lily swallowed.

“Everywhere?” His eyes flickered down the hall, almost as if he were looking for you.

“Why does she have more than Remus?”

“Her body heals differently and she didn’t have the ointment he gets from the hospital wing, despite my persistent begging for her to get it.”

“Does her boyfriend know about this?”

“Her what?”

“Jacob. The Slytherin.”

“Sirius, they aren’t dating.”

“But he’s taking her to Hogsmead.”

“To help him pick out a gift for his little sister’s birthday. I said that in the heat of the moment. She was pissed at Remus. Please, don’t make her feel worse about keeping this a secret. And no, she just met him a week ago. She’s known Remus since she was born and you since everywhere in between.” Sirius looked down the hall again before back at Lily.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Do not tell Remus until after the full moon tonight. They are both on edge and it's not going to be a pretty fight.” Sirius nodded, recalling how badly he had wanted to yell at her for not telling them about this.

“Anything else?”

“Go easy on her. It had to of taken a lot of guts not to obliviate you on the spot.” Sirius nodded, knowing she had contemplated it for a split second.

“Yeah, ok. I can do that.”

“Thank you, Sirius. You're a good friend.” He scoffed.

“Tell that to Mooney when he’s beating the daylights out of me.” Lily put a hand on his shoulder before disappearing back into the Great Hall. “He’s gonna kill me for this,” Sirius mumbled before following her into the hall.

You had just finished tying the ropes onto your arms. They were charmed so no matter what tugged at them they would hold you in place until the full moon was over. You had tied them extra tight tonight for precaution. Lily walked in with her arms full of chocolate and some other food for before and after the full moon.

“Do you have to tie them so tight?”

“Yes,” You grunted as you pulled one more time to triple check if they were tight enough.

“Sirius pulled me aside today,” she hummed slightly and took a seat in front of you on the floor. You glanced at his jacket.

“Speaking of,” you said before she could say anything. “Can you return his jacket? I don’t want it to get ruined or anything and I didn’t see him before I came here.”

“You didn;t see him because you didn’t want to. You can’t avoid him or telling our friends about this.”

“Yeah, but I can put it off for as long as possible.” She shook her head at you.

“You are unbelievable.”

“Yep. Can you pass some chocolate over please.” She started to grab it but you changed your mind. “Actually, just hand me the grapes.” She paused and looked up at you.

“Is this about what Remus said?” You looked away from her. “Y/N/N. Is this about what Remus said?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He didn’t mean-”

“Yeah he did. My brother may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Especially during a full moon.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I’m pretty sure he did.” She just shook her head and handed you the chocolate which you reluctantly (not really) took and began to devour.

“You should get out of here, Lily. It’ll be starting in a little.”

“You took the potion?” You nodded and gestured to an empty vile a few feet away from you. She picked it up and gathered Sirius’s coat. “Are you sure you’ll be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks again, Lily. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” And then she left, leaving you to munch on chocolate in the deafening silence. Counting the seconds until it would begin.

Lily stepped through the doors and back into the hallway, she looked at Sirius who was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m going to murder Remus later,” she grumbled and walked down the hall. Sirius jogged after her.

“Why?”

“Here’s your jacket. You know that comment he made about her eating a lot of chocolate?” Sirius took his jacket back and nodded. “She took it to heart and doesn’t want to eat it any more. Well, as much as she normally does. And it makes her feel as close to as hundred percent as she can get around this time.” Sirius frowned. “You know, she cares so much about Remus, and I really don’t think he gets that,” Lily shook her head.

“I think you may be right,” Sirius mumbled and looked back down the hallway the two of them had just come from.

You woke on the floor in the Room. The floor was ice cold and your clothes were in shreds and were hanging onto your body loosely. You were bleeding here and there and sat back, rubbing the back of your neck you groan. You could see the sun was rising from the window the room always provided you.

You glanced at the pile of chocolate and went to get it before you untied yourself but stopped. No. You didn’t need anything right now. You’d be fine.

You undid the rope on your arms and legs. You held your wrists carefully, they were bruised and splattered with dry blood from you tugging at them and flinched every time you ran your hand over an open cut.

Shaking yourself, you stood up and grabbed a fresh set of clothes and your “Journal”. After every full moon you would write down what you remembered, just to get it out of your head. You never talked about it, like your brother did. He really didn;t have to, but you knew that he always needed to get it out to. So instead of making his friends hear it since they were already there with him, he told you.

You quickly rinsed the blood off yourself to the best of your ability until you could take a shower, and tossed on a pair of oversized sweatpants and a tank top with a jacket. The room had provided you with a couch, which you gratefully took with a book, your journal, and some of the non-chocolate food Lily had brought with her yesterday. It would be a while until you would be mentaly fine enough to leave.

Remus was in the medical wing sleeping, three of the four boys asleep in the uncomfortable chairs that surrounded his bed, as usual. Madame Pomfrey had been up and had been ready to tend to Remus’ wounds as usual and had left him and the boys to sleep. James and Peter found it easy to slip into sleep for the rest of the morning, but Sirius found it harder than normal, and he knew it was because of you.

After his ninth attempt to fall asleep he rose and left the room, a silent nod to the healer sitting at her cabinet and writing something, before he left through the doors and quickly made his way to the Room of Requirement.

No one was up yet, he didn’t even know if you were. But he knew no one should have to go through that alone, which you obviously had been doing since second year. It just didn’t sit right with him. He stopped at the wall leading to the Room of Requirement and waited for doors to form. Which they did. He opened the door quietly and stepped in to see you on the couch you looked up, expecting Lily.

“Sirius?”

“Hey.”

“How’d you know where I was?”

“Lily.”

“Right. Well, shouldn’t you be asleep in the hospital wing then?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” He shrugged and sat on the couch you were occupying. “Studying?” You shrugged and moved some of your notes, still not emotionally or mentaly stable enough to deal with people. But because it was him, and your emotions were still in a knot of confusion, you let him stay.

Did your heart always beat this fast when he was this close?

“Did you get your jacket back?” You picked up a piece of chocolate. “Chocolate?” He grabbed the bar and opened it.

“Yeah, Lily gave it back to me yesterday. I was a little disappointed not to see you before the full moon.” You shrugged and ate a strawberry, eyeing Sirius’s chocolate with want, but resisted opening your own.

“I took the potion and rushed in here to get ready,” you motioned to the ropes on the ground; you hadn’t had the energy to clean it up yet.

“Ropes?” His gaze flickered between you, the ropes and your hands, which you were playing with nervously. “You… tie yourself down?” He looked almost horrified.

“Yeah,” you looked at the wall. “Precautions. I don’t take them lightly.” He didn’t know what to say to that. He knew Remus was cautions about this but tying yourself up like that while you went through the agony of transforming?

“Let me see your hands,” he reached out to you, but the motion only made you bring them into yourself. You got shit from Lily when she saw them, you didn’t need that twice. “Y/N, please.” You swallowed and handed them to him. His leg started to bounce at the new, red marks on your wrists.

“It-it's really fine.” you tried to pull them back, but he didn’t let you. He didn’t look up at you and you waited for him to start yelling. Lily always did.

“How bad does it hurt?” You were shocked by the amount of kindness in his voice. You swallowed.

“Uh-not terribly. I mean, my wrists are kind of used to getting torn up like this, so I mean…” You bit your lip and tried to peel the layers off. “I mean, I guess it kind of stings. ANd my back kind aches, but uh… its.. Uh.. fine.”

“Why don’t you go to the hospital wing?”

“Because you guys and Remus are there. If I showed up every full moon when you were all there, it would be a bit suspicious, don’t ya think?”

“Yes, but you’re injured.” You shrugged sadly.

“I've had worse than a few rope burns. I mean, you’ve seen my arms.”

“And Lily said that's not even close to the end of your scars,” you flinched slightly. Which was he talking about? Mentaly or physically?

You knew this wasn;t the moment to be exactly thinking it, but damn when he wanted to he could literally be so gentle and it made you want to burst.

“Yeah. Before the potion and figuring out the rope charm it was pretty bumpy. I mean, it's still not exactly smooth sailing, but- I’m rambling now,” you shook your head and pulled your hands away from him, tucking your hands into your sleeves.

“Have you eaten any chocolate yet?” He asked, rising and making his way to the pile on the floor.

“I haven’t really felt like it,” you shrugged, not even attempting to make the lie seem real. He rolled his eyes and started rifling through the bars.

“Liar.” He grabbed one and tossed it to you. “Here. Eat this, you’ll feel better.”

“I’m fine, Sirius. Really.” You poked at the bar a few times, contemplating taking it. “You look exhausted though. You were out with my brother all night, you should get some sleep.”

“So should you.” You rolled your eyes and looked back down at the potions book in your hands.

“I have to study for this potions assignment with Jacob. I’ve been too distracted with this past full moon.”

“Yes I can see how turning into a werewolf would be distracting,” he scoffed and took the book from your hands.

“Sirius,” you whined.

“What potion did you even get?” His face fell a bit when he noticed the love potion on the page. The majority of the students who did this potion together ended up together.

“It's easy, but a lot of information,” you sighed and grabbed the book back. “I mean, not easy easy. But its,” you shook your head. “Never mind. Forget it,” you sighed and ran your hands over your face.

“Who do you think you're gonna smell?” He asked, leaning back casually, even though he hated himself for asking.

“Probably no none. And the person I hope I smell, well I doubt they'd even consider me,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll probably smell chocolate and lavender. Or something like that.” But in your head you weren;t thinking about chocolate and lavender. Ok, that was a lie. You were thinking about chocolate, it was right in front of you and your sensitive sense of smell was amplifying it. But you were really expecting to smell was the boy sitting next to you. And you knew you wouldn’t mix his scent with anyone else's.

“Heh. They’d be crazy not to, love.” You blushed but buried your head into your book further. He looked over at you and bounced his leg a few more times.

“You should probably get back to Rem. I’ll probably follow you a bit later to check in on him and give him some chocolate.” He frowned.

“Shouldn;t you be eating all this?”

“I only normally eat a few pieces and give the rest to him. He has it worse than me.” You shrugged. “He deserves it more.”

“And aren’t you supposed to be mad at him?” You shrugged again.

“How my full moons go are based on my emotions. It's better to make up with him. Make everything go back to normal, like it normally does when we get into an argument.”

“Ok, but it wasn;t fair the way he treated you. I know he was on edge, but-”

“Sirius, it's fine. Really. We were both just on edge. And it was fair. I mean, not the Slytherin comments, but the rest of it was.”

“Will you at least eat something before you go? Or get some sleep?”

“I slept plenty after my transformation and I ate lots.”

“Chocolate,” He said exasperatedly. “Eat some chocolate.” You took the bar of chocolate he had given you and took a bite out of it.

“Never thought someone would have to make me eat chocolate.”

“Never thought I’d have to make you,” you frowned, thinking back to your twin's comment.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you would just eat it without even thinking. Ever since Remus made that comment-”

“Rightfully said,” you hummed cutting him off. He sighed and took your book again, kneeling in front of you.

“Why do you care so much about what he says? Especially when he’s not himself?”

“Because I need to make him feel happier. He’s like this because of me. Because of my mistake to want to see the stars he’s in pain.”

“And so are you. Why do you keep torturing yourself?”

“I’m not. I just… I don’t know. God I’m such a mess afterwards,” you groaned, tears pricking your eyes.

“Yeah, well, that's expected,” he smirked and it made you give hima laugh-sob in reply. “Here,” he urged, handing you the half finished chocolate bar. You took a desperate few bites out of it and let the tears fall. He wiped them away quickly and let his hand fall on your knee. “Better?” you nodded and wiped your face to rid it of any chocolate.

“Yeah, sor-”

“Don’t apologize. You should sleep. You look absolutely horrid,” you laughed pitifully and nodded, finally admitting to your exhaustion.

“Yeah, ok. You might be right.”

“Might be? I’m always right.” You laughed again and went to stand up.

“Yeah yeah. Alright. You're always right. I’ll sleep after I make sure Remus is alright.” You promised.

He wanted to argue but knew he wouldn’t win.

“Alright. Come on. Then I’m taking you straight to the dorm room.”

“I have to clean up first. Go ahead, I’ll follow.” He shook his head.

“I’ll come back later and do it.”

“Sirius-”

“No arguing. Come on,” he dragged you out of the room. You visited your brother who was still asleep. James and Peter were up and waiting for Remus to wake up. Once you saw him Sirius dragged you out and to your dorm room forcing you to go to sleep or he would make you eat chocolate until you turned into it. You gladly fell into a dreamless sleep, unknowing of him wrapping your wrists since you were such a heavy sleeper.

You woke up on Monday when Lily shook you awake for class. You could tell she felt bad about it, but you assured her it was fine. You noticed your hands were wrapped and wondered who had done it. That's when you noticed your stomach growling. Quickly you got dressed and shoved chocolate into your bag for Remus and ran down to the Great Hall where everyone already was. You took your usual seat in between Remus and Sirius.

“Hey!” You said cheerfully and grabbed some food and put it on your plate. “Rem, could you pass me the chocolate chip muffins please?” He did so as if nothing was wrong and even bumped your shoulder with his. Sirius just watched, not understanding how your three huge fights could so easily turn back to this. All your classes went as usual, even lunch went well.

Then it was time for potions. You walked in with James and Remus but had to make your way to Jacob instead of sitting with them. You had decided it would be fair to split the research and then have him write the essay while you made the potion.

“Hey Jacob!” You smiled brightly at the Slytherin.

“Hello, Y/N. You have your half of the research?” You nodded and handed him your papers. Excellent. Should we get started then?”

“Sounds good to me! Who do you think you’ll smell?” He glanced over at a hufflepuff with bright red hair across the room.

“I hope I know who.” You smiled. “You?” You blushed.

“I wish. I mean, I have an idea, but they’ll never like me back, especially now.” He shook his head.

“You're super cool, Y/N/N. They’d be insane not to.”

“Thanks, Jacob. Let's get to it then?”

“Lets!” For the rest of class the two of you worked, quietly chatting occasionally as you finished the project together. You heard an explosion and glanced up and Remus and James who were just staring at their cauldron. James obviously being the one who added the wrong ingredient. You snorted and went back to your own potion mixing it together carefully, the brew being the perfect shade of pink. He sat up in his seat and looked at you wide eyed. “It's finished?”

You smiled. “You smell it already? It still has a few hours of brewing.” He nodded. He looked over to the hufflepuff boy.

“Yeah. I can smell it. You?” You swallowed and took a whiff.

Gasoline, smoke, cinnamon apples and chocolate. God that was it. That was him.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Yeah I smell it.” Slughorn came over and looked into the cauldron.

“My my, looks like you two are finished already! Is your essay finished as well?” You looked over at Jacob who wrote a few more things down and handed it to Slughorn who skimmed it, seeming to be happy with it. “Splendid splendid. Well done you two. You can be finished for today. As a matter of fact, everyone is dismissed if you feel like you are finished. We will be continuing this tomorrow and then they will be due the next day.” The class erupted into chatter and the Hufflepuff boy came over, Jacob held his breath as he stopped in front of him smelling the air. He looked over at him, lust blown eyes.

He bit his lip and sauntered out of the room with a swing to his hips, glancing back at him before leaving the door. You chuckled as he just stared, gawking.

“Go get him, Lover boy!” He grinned at you and ran out of the room after the Hufflepuff. You cleaned up as the room emptied. You told Remus and James to go on without you to lunch. You would be there for a few minutes.

You continued to clean up the station, not bothering to stop smelling your potion, the scent put you at ease. It always did. And you really needed to be at ease right then.

You walked back over to your workbench to see Sirius entering the room.

“Hey, Sirius!” You smiled and he smiled back before stopping, smelling the air. He looked at the potion, swallowed and then back at you. You frowned and went back to cleaning up, making sure not to look at him. But you couldn’t help but wonder who he was smelling. It was clearly not you.

He began to help you clean up and the air was suddenly tense between you. And you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“So, who do you smell?” You asked, jumping onto the work table and cocking your head at him. He shrugged. “Come on, I want to know. As your best friend, I have a right to know.” He hummed in response and inclined his head.

“Just like how I had a right to know your secret?” You looked away.

“I said I was sorry. I just, I was scared if it got out that Remus would find out. I just didn’t want Remus to know that he got turned and I got turned. I would have much rather it been me and only me rather than the both of us.”

“I would've rather it be neither of you,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, same. So who do you smell?”

“Why don;t you tell me?” he countered and you chewed your lip. “Come on, just tell me,” he got closer to you, smiling as he glanced up at him. You have no idea where the rush of courage came from. But it came.

“You,” you shrugged, he went wide eyed and stepped back, coughing.

“M-me?” You shrugged, playing it off.

“You,” he smirked at you, composing himself again.

“And what exactly do I smell like?” He asked, placing a hand on either side of your body. You thought about it for a moment, but you knew. Even without him right in front of you and the potion right beside you, you knew.

“Gasoline and smoke from that motorcycle you always work on, Cinnamon and apples because though you’d never admit it they are your favorite, and chocolate because you're always around me or Rem.” he stared at you. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who do you smell?” It took him a moment to find his voice, and each second he took you waited in agony. What if you just confessed to your best friend and he didn’t like you back. But he smiled after a moment.

“You,” he replied simply, making your eyes go wide. You had been hoping, but it was actually the last thing you had expected to hear.

“An-and what exactly do I smell like?”

“Lavender, from that motorizer you always wear before you go to sleep, chocolate because you practically survive on the stuff- which is adorable-, and ink because you are constantly spilling it all over the place,” as he spoke his voice had gotten lower and lower, and with his voice his gaze also dropped. It dropped all the way down to your lips which you were playing with.

“Wo-wow,” you stuttered out, not knowing how to react. WHat do you do? You were panicking. And before you could say anything or do anything, his lips were on yours and he was standing in between your legs. His mouth was warm on yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer as he brought his hands to your hips to bring you closer. But then a familiar thought rang through your head.

You don’t deserve this…

“Sirius, wait,” you pulled away and he leaned away from you, his hands still on your hips, he looked at you curiously.

“What's wrong?”

“I-I don’t deserve this. I-I can’t put you through this.” He scrunched his eyebrows together.

“What do you mean?” You buried your head in your hands and shook your head. Headache was approaching and you needed your chocolate. After the full moon was never as bad as before, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have your share of problems.

Sirius seemed to sense your need for chocolate because he dove into your bag and pulled out a piece, unwrapping it for you. He handed it to you and you took it gratefully.

“Can you explain what you meant?”

“You deserve better than me. I mean. You're you. And who am I? I’m a weirdo screw up who got her brother bitten by a werewolf.”

“No,” he pulled your face back up to his and looked at you. “You are perfect. I have had a crush on you since second year. And I’ll be damned if I let your insecurities get in the way of me taking care of you.”

“But-”

He shoved the chocolate back into your mouth, shaking his head.

“Do you like me?” you nodded as you chewed the chocolate. He smiled and pecked your lips, your mouth still full of chocolate. “That's all that matters to me. I think we have a few things to tell your brother now though,” you frowned and nodded sadly. You didn’t want to, you really didn’t. He kissed you again and you brought him in closer. You still felt guilty, and you knew you always would. You couldn’t change that. But you could try for him. You could be the best for him. Because the boy standing in front of you, wiping excess chocolate from his own mouth, he was everything you had ever wanted.

And you would be everything he ever wanted in return.

#sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius black #sirius x y/n #Lupin reader #remus x you #mauraders x reader #mauraders #hq angst #hp fluff #fluff and angst

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ghostdrew22 · 3 years

Text

Falling Out Of Love With Astoria Greengrass || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader (but it's not mentioned frequently so you can ignore it) Warnings: Allusions to sex, some angst, mentions of death, if there's anything else please let me know :) Summary: Throughout the Hogwarts years from Astoria’s POV we watch Draco fall out of love with her, and into love with Y/N.

WORDS : 6251

<~>

The Greengrass and Malfoy families had held each other in a high regard for quite sometime. When it so happened that the Malfoy’s had a son near in age to the Greengrass daughters, it was almost too perfect an opportunity to pass up and both families decided that to keep their families pure, wealthy and powerful, one of the Greengrass daughters would marry Draco when they all came of age.

So soon playdates were being arranged and the Greengrass daughters had become best friends with the Malfoy son. For a while, it looked like Astoria was the sister that he was going to marry, like she’d stolen the Slytherin Prince’s heart. They both liked each other enough, it was a perfect union really.

But then you happened.

It was all going well, perfect even, until Year 1 at Hogwarts began and you snuck your way into everyone’s lives. Draco, Blaise, Daphne and Astoria had grown up together, you were the outsider. It shouldn’t have happened really, it was most unbelievable to Draco himself, but on the first day of school he bumped into you before the sorting ceremony and you flashed him a smile that had his insides bubbling with warmth- not love, definitely not, but an odd sense of comfort. Before long you, Draco, Blaise and Daphne all got sorted into Slytherin and the oddest of crews was formed; three wealthy purebloods and their half-blood best friend - but you were powerful quartet and you only grew in power when Astoria joined Hogwarts the next year.

~~~

She should’ve known, from the day that she met you, that she’d never be enough in comparison to you- not for her sister, not for her friends, and definitely not for Draco Malfoy. How could she be when your laugh made everyone else laugh too, when your smile brightened up everyone’s day even her own, when your hugs were a refuge from the terrible reality that consumed the Hogwarts grounds every year, when you were the only true friend that most people ever had in their lives.

In another world, Astoria would’ve been the one that Draco fell in love with, not you. In another world, a perfect world perhaps, your dorky snort wouldn’t have even made it into any of their lives. Your touch wouldn’t linger on their souls like a wolf’s imprint and your voice wouldn’t snake its way into their most euphoric dreams. And perhaps in another reality, one in which the universe didn’t hate Astoria, you didn’t exist at all.

But in this reality, you are real, very real indeed.

She isn’t in love with him. No. She can’t be.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Draco’s arranged to marry her not you. He’s meant to marry the beautiful, wealthy, pureblood with as much social status as his own, not the half-blood from Hogwarts whose father had to work for his social status. Everyone knows Mr L/N, it’s hard not to know the trailblazing wizard who succeeded against all odds then lost his wife to a muggle disease, but that doesn’t mean everyone respects him in the same manner that they do Lucius Malfoy.

It’s absurd, you’re too different. You’re too different from the rest of them, it doesn’t make sense that he fell in love with you.

~~~

YEAR THREE - DECEMBER

The Malfoy’s had a small, annual Christmas tradition. If your idea of a small tradition is a ball with the Wizarding World’s richest and most popular adversary’s. You’d never gone before, due to your mother being a muggle and unenthusiastic about fraternising with pretentious, former death eaters, but once your friendship had reached stable enough ground Draco had insisted that you and your father come for the ball. And reluctantly, your father agreed.

You’d not come with a date. What was the point if you were going to spend the entire night with your friends anyway? It was unorthodox, and deemed slightly rude by Lucius Malfoy, but no one had cared much after you’d managed to discreetly blend in with your friends and Daphne hadn’t left your side the entire night.

It’s that night when Astoria starts to notice that she’s losing him to you. She’s clearly looking richer- everything about her always screams money- but it seems that it’s not enough to compare to your smile, your eyes, the way your laugh fills the room whenever one of your friends tells a joke, because almost the entire group can’t keep their eyes off of you, including Astoria herself, even though hers is an act of insecurity and not admiration.

So she tries to lure Draco away from you before he can get sucked too deeply into your sparkling iris’s, coaxing him to join her on the dance floor and he obliges without complaint- knowing that his father is keeping a watchful eye on his son and his future wife. And besides, Draco does love Astoria, he wants to make sure that she has a good time. When Astoria looks back at this night she’ll imagine that it was the night that Draco had stopped loving her and started loving you instead, but she was wrong. He had loved you both for long after.

His hands are tight around her waist, in a loving and protective manner, as he leads her onto the dance floor swiftly and treats her to a night of bliss that she’ll never forget. His heart is in it, undeniably, but it seems that only half of his heart belongs to Astoria. Because the whole night, while he dances with her, laughs with her, eats with her, and has the time of his life with her, he guiltily wishes that it had been with you.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - NOVEMBER

Astoria walks toward Draco’s prefect dorm - wanting to find him and drag him down to the Quidditch field so that he can fly around with her for a little bit- and stops at his door when she hears the faint sound of laughter barricading against the walls from the inside. It’s your laugh, she knows it well enough by now, and his chuckles follow soon after.

She suspects that this is a private moment, one meant only for the two of you to witness and experience, and she doesn’t know how but something about the way you’re laughing just sends jolts of envy shooting through her- like Draco’s never made her laugh that way, and maybe it’s because he never has. There’s an odd sort of intimacy that wafts through the air, even with all these walls and doors keeping her separated from you both, and it unsettles her down to her core because it feels so different to the way Draco is with her.

“We have to tell them… We have to tell her.” You sigh as you look into Draco’s eyes sadly. Astoria can’t see the scene but she can sense the discomfort that’s now enveloped the room at the mention of whoever you two seem to be discussing.

“Y/N.” Draco sighs tiredly - having had this argument with you countless times in the last two months.

“I know, I know that you’re arranged to marry her and you love her and she loves you but Draco the two of you aren’t even dating. There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing but that doesn’t mean it’s fair to either of us- she at least deserves to know.”

Realisation dawns on Astoria as she processes that she’s the one that they’re talking about - that in some odd twist of fate she’s become the other woman.

“What if she hates me?” Draco asks and Astoria feels her heart wrench- there’s no possibility in this universe that she could ever hate him, even if she tried.

“She could never hate you.”

“What if she tells my parents?” 

“Tell them that nothing’s changed and you will still go ahead with the marriage when the time comes. Tell them all the things that you’ve already told me.” There’s a slight hint of sadness and betrayal lacing your last few words and Draco feels sorrow wash over him.

“Y/N-“

“No, don’t say it.” You shake your head with a sad smile. “You’re going back to her in the end, I’ve accepted that.”

He sighs and pulls you into a bear hug- rubbing your back and soothing you. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about Dray.” You say and even Astoria can hear your smile from outside the door, “But we have to tell her.”

Draco nods and starts to pepper kisses down your neck- sloppy, desperate ones that even Astoria can recognise. “We can tell her after…”

“Dray…” You whine out in protest and he chuckles.

“Tell me to stop and I will pretty girl.”

Astoria doesn’t wait to hear your response, but when the two of you walk into the Great Hall for dinner that evening- large smiles and happily exhausted expressions covering your eyes- she knows what your answer was.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - NOVEMBER (the next day)

Astoria and Draco are sat by the lake together, doing homework and chatting as the rest of their friends keep themselves occupied- as they usually do when Astoria and Draco disappear off together. It’s a habit that they created a few years back when they decided that they needed to spend more time together, alone, to prepare for the inevitable future in which they’re married.

In the past it had been perfect - hours spent in their little corner of reality in which no one else besides the two of them existed. They’d sit and talk for hours - forgetting that time is even a measure in the great expanse of their universe- sometimes they’d do puzzles, play wizard’s chess or just respectively do their own homework. But now it’s changed, it seems that Draco is always itching for their time together to end so that he can return to you. And she knows that it’s not her fault, not anyone’s fault really, and that it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to spend time with her because anyone can see that he does hold some love for her in his heart. But it doesn’t compare to the love he has for you, it doesn’t compare to the way he wants to be next to you as much as possible.

“Are you a virgin?” Astoria asks suddenly as she turns to the boy beside her. She knows that it’s an intimate question, and that he has every right not to answer her, but she needs to know how strong the bond they’ve created over the years is.

Draco thinks on it for a few seconds, weighs the pros and cons of both lying and being honest, before he finally settles on his answer- knowing that it’ll lead to more questions. “No.”

Astoria can’t tell if she’s relieved that he didn’t lie or if she’s hurt that he wouldn’t have told her if she didn’t ask, but she pushes away the fog of emotion and continues on the mission that she set course for this morning. “Who?”

Draco gulps, “Y/N.”

Silence encapsulates them and sends them down a dark road of confusion - where to go from here?

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know.” Draco shrugs, feeling a smile crawl onto his face at the thought of you, “Maybe.”

“Hm.”

“But it doesn’t matter much anyway, I’m marrying you in a few years bumblebee.” He turns to her and grasps her hand in his own- trying to send a message of reassurance that just makes Astoria’s throat close up- sending her a soft and loving smile. A soft and loving smile that is no match for the one he would’ve sent to you if he’d said those words to you instead.

“True as that may be,” Astoria begins as she takes her hand out of his and pulls back to sit comfortably while facing him, “It’s no reason for us to not enjoy our youth.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asks as he sits up - hoping that maybe the two of you can start to see each other out in the open.

“Let’s see people, other people, while we can.”

“Are you sure?” He raises his eyebrows and she nods- before she has the chance to change her mind- “Who is he?” Draco asks with a smirk.

Astoria tilts her head to look at Draco clearly- to observe this man that she loves enough to let go of in hopes that he’ll come back to her- and she feels her heart warm at the thought of him being happy with you, despite her own desire to feel that love instead. “Trust me, there is no he.”

“Mhmm.” Draco hums absent-mindedly as he hooks his arm around Astoria’s shoulders and pulls her into his chest for a hug. “Thank you bumblebee.”

“You’re welcome.” She giggles out as he places a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll be coming back to each other in the end anyway.”

Before long Astoria and Draco’s study sessions have a third participant. And Astoria thought that she’d hate it, she desperately wants to hate you for stealing his affection from her, but she can’t. Her plan to get you out of Draco’s system backfired quickly- her efforts to push you out of his heart recoiled on her as you pushed your way into hers- and soon enough the two of you become best friends.

Study sessions become picnics- ones where you and Astoria bully Draco with foolish nonsense like plaiting his hair, painting his nails, beating him at every muggle boardgame known to man, making him read to you both as you lay down on the picnic blanket and watch the clouds above. The sound of you and Astoria's combined giggles now fills Draco’s ears everyday, and he can’t possibly think of a sound he loves more.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - MAY

Shit. That’s the very first thing Astoria thinks when that morning’s copy of The Daily Prophet lands in front of her at the Slytherin table. Her eyes immediately shift to find where you’re seated but you’ve already gotten up and started marching out of the Great Hall. Draco’s eyes catch her own and they both nod silently in agreement before getting up from the table and moving to follow you.

The Headline had stated, in big, bold print, that your mother (among many other muggleborn witches and wizards in the Wizarding community) had not died of cancer but instead been poisoned by undercover Death Eaters that worked with her at St Mungo’s. They’d created a slow-acting potion that replicated the symptoms of cancer and made it impossible to identify the source of the sickness- which is why neither muggle doctors nor healers had been able to cure her.

Deep down both you and your father had known that she hadn’t died naturally, you’d both long suspected foul play even when she had first fallen sick, but no one seemed to be interested in your babblings of concern- chalking it down to grief and denial. So you’d moved on- stuffing it so far into the depths of your memory that you’d almost forgotten about it completely- but when that article had landed in front of you in the Great Hall hot, fresh tears of sorrow had started to pour down your cheeks without a moment of hesitation, and it had taken all of your strength to clamber out of the Great Hall and into your dorm room.

You’re crying so hard- completely lost in your cloud of affliction and immeasurable heartbreak- that you don’t even notice Draco and Astoria sneak into your room until they’re both sat beside you on your bed, running their hands up and down your back and your face - trying to bring you back down to planet earth with their movements of affection. But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough to take away your pain.

You don’t hear them whisper above you, and you don’t even notice what’s going on around you until Draco has lifted you up into his arms and started carrying you somewhere. You only manage to blink back tears and observe your surroundings once Draco has gently laid you in his bigger prefect bed and wrapped the covers around you.

“Lay with me.” Is all you manage to rasp out, sparing a glance at them both, before you drop your head into the pillows and try to find solace in sleep. They don’t hesitate to do as you wish- Draco climbing in bed behind you and Astoria climbing in by the front, bundling you up in the safety of their presence’s- and you sigh in relief when you start to feel Draco’s fingers in your hair and Astoria’s hand grasp your own.

It’s almost awkward- your back to Draco’s chest and Astoria’s head in yours as you strain to focus on the scent of her pomegranate shampoo as well as the scent of Draco’s oceanic one, so that there’s something to tether you to the real world- but there’s an almost protective nature to the way you’re all lying, like they’re saying more than words ever could; we’ll protect you. It’s safe and it’s warm, so you let your eyes close as you drift off to sleep.

But maybe that was the day it all started to fall apart, because that was the last time he ever looked at her with as much love as he looked at you with.

~~~

YEAR FIVE - JUNE

Astoria watches as your giggles fill his ears and leave him drunk with happiness- more drunk than any amount of the firewhiskey he’s holding could possibly even try to. It’s a bitter sight really, to see the one who’s meant to be yours falling deeper and deeper in love with someone else, to push down your feelings of contempt and jealousy for the sake of friendship - both with you and Draco.

You two are wrapped in a world of your own- the only thing either of you can focus on is the sound of each other’s voices and the feel of each other’s skin rubbing against each other as you sit in the common room with your friends for game night. The only thing tying you both down to earth is the distant sound of laughter that carries from Blaise, or maybe Theo, and toward you both- waking you up every few minutes from the trance of each other.

It’s in the breaks in between each game that the two of you get sucked back into the whirlwind of your love for each other - that he whispers to you everything he adores about you, and you whisper back all the things you adore about him- hushed, quiet, private, and yet observable from across the table where Astoria watches the scene in a state of silent fury. An anger so muted that one could easily mistake it for admiration, that one could simply miss the way she yearns to be in that place instead of her own, that one could misinterpret her desire to be the one smothered in the kisses of those soft lips.

Best friends.

The two of you are her best friends.

That’s what she tells herself when she feels that familiar coil of rage inching it’s way up into her throat and begging to meet with her tongue- to scold you both for hurting her so blatantly. But she doesn’t, no, her mother raised her with more self-restraint than that. She swallows her anger, her sadness, her jealousy, and reminds herself that no amount of fury will ever be worth losing you both.

He won’t choose her.

We’ll be coming back to each other in the end anyway, she reminds herself.

~~~

YEAR SIX - DECEMBER

When sixth rolls around no one fails to see the changes that Draco’s gone through over the summer break- least of all you and Astoria. You both try your best to act like everything is the same- like he’s not folding in on himself, shrinking closer and closer to just teeth and bones, losing all the colour in his face, draining more and more of life as the days go on- but it’s evident in the way he eats less, spends less time outside with you both and pushes you two as far away from him as remotely possible.

Winter Break rolls around and as usual, you all go down to the Malfoy Manor for the few days of Christmas. Excitement bubbles in the train carriage as you, Blaise, Daphne, Astoria and Theo converse about the upcoming break, but Draco doesn’t join in the conversation- he merely lets his head fall on your shoulder and his fingers intertwine with yours. Your close proximity is a silent reminder that he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say or show it as often, and that whatever he’s going through isn’t your fault but rather a much bigger problem.

It’s over break that you fully notice the impact of whatever Draco’s going through- his bright smile doesn’t appear when he greets his mother, and he flinches in her embrace when she comes up to hug him, he no longer meets you all in the garden late at night to watch the stars and talk till the sun rises, and the days that used to be spent laughing together are now consumed by him sleeping. Two days before you’re all due to leave, you decide that you’ve had enough and you confront Draco in his room- charming the room with a silencing charm in case you erupt into another fight.

“We need to talk.” You say from your seat on the edge of the bed as Draco walks out of the bathroom in a set of black pyjamas.

“Are we seriously doing this again Y/N?” He asks as he rolls his eyes and walks over to the vanity in his room.

“It’s the last time, I promise.” You say with a smile as you shrug. He looks at you skeptically and so you elaborate, “If you don’t tell me what I want to know then we’re breaking up.”

“Fine.” He replies simply with a shrug as he leans against the vanity. “It’s not like you’re not going to want to be with me once you know.”

“And how can you possibly know that?”

“Because it’s bad, Y/N, it’s really really bad.”

You sigh and swallow as you look at the ground. A few seconds pass before you continue, “Do you remember when your father got sentenced?”

A look of confusion flashes across his features but he nods slowly anyway, “Yes, why?”

“You’d started walking ahead with Blaise and Astoria so you didn’t see but, your mother came to talk to me.” You start as you give him a sad smile, “She asked me if I was going to break your heart. When I asked her why she thought that, she asked me how I could possibly love the son of someone who knew the people that killed my mother in cold blood.”

“Why didn’t you te-“ Draco starts but you lift your hand and cut him off.

“I thought about it and I realised that it didn’t matter to me, my love for you is beyond any physical measure and it can’t be wavered by something as morbidly coincidental as that. I told her that I love you more than words can describe and that it didn’t matter to me because that’s not you.” You laugh a sad laugh, “Do you want to know what she said back?”

“What?”

“She told me that ‘to be a Malfoy is to be burdened by responsibility and raised with the weight of the world on your shoulders.’ She told me that I should be prepared to lose you when your duty to your family gets in the way of your love for me.”

“Nothing’s in the way of my love for you, I promise-“ He interrupts you and you send him a look that shuts him up.

“When I asked what duty she was referring to, she said to me ‘the one his father couldn’t fulfill.’” You finish with a large and shaky breath as your eyes finally shift upwards to settle against his unwavering gaze. “So I’m going to ask you this once. If you lie to me then we’re done because I will assume that she was right.”

Draco gulps but nods, “Go ahead.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, are you a death eater?”

He doesn’t answer at first, he’s still staring at you and dumbfounded at the fact that you’d figured it out, but once he does finally process what you’ve asked him then he starts to roll up the sleeve of his left arm. You gasp at the sight of the skull and snake embroidering the pale skin underneath, and immediately look away so you don’t cry. “Yes, Y/N, I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I?” He asks as he looks at you sadly and you nod in understanding- opening your arms for him to come and settle in them.

The two of you sit like that for hours- in bed, him crying in your arms as he tells you what he’s been tasked with and how he’s been trying to fulfill the task alone over the last few months, he tells you about the Vanishing Cabinet, about having to kill Dumbledore, about learning Occulemency with his Aunt Bellatrix and figuring out for the first time how deep his love for you runs in his veins- and you try your best to choke back tears and be strong for him as he finally opens up for the first time in months.

When the two of you finally leave the room to go downstairs for dinner, Draco feels as though a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and he smiles, for the first time in months, and it’s for you.

Both Astoria and Narcissa easily take notice of Draco’s altered demeanor when you and him make your way to the table. Astoria feels jealousy wash over her when she watches him pull out a chair for you, kiss your forehead, dish food out for you, and stare in admiration as you eat. Narcissa on the other hand, feels pride, and an unbridled sense of relief at the fact that you managed to help her son out of his head. Astoria’s eyes land on Narcissa’s face for a moment and she sees it; the look of acceptance that a proud mother gives to the one who owns their child’s heart.

And that’s the first time that Astoria realises, maybe we’re not coming back to each other in the end.

~~~

1998 - MAY

Draco feels his breath caught in his lungs as he searches for you throughout the castle - fighting off anyone and anything that stands in the way of him coming across you. He finds Theo, Goyle and Blaise while searching for you and the four of them run through the castle with fire in their bones and aches in their heart at the prospect of not being able to see their friends again. But then it happens, his eyes land on a flash of blonde waving around the courtyard with determination; Daphne. And beside her, in all your magnificent and powerful glory, is you.

The four boys run toward the two of you and you all have a brief moment of relief consume you as you reunite in each others arms. Hugs are thrown around, kisses passed along, and soft words of reassurance are spread to remind you all that you’re alive and together. But as soon as that moment of relief fades, a panic sets in its place as you and Draco realise that Astoria is still missing.

“I thought she was with you.” Daphne says to Draco as her breaths become uneven again and tears begin to prick at her eyes.

“It’s okay, we’ll go find her.” You tell Daphne as you pull her into a hug quickly before pulling away and lacing your fingers with Draco’s.

“The rest of you try to get somewhere safe, we’ll find each other again.” Draco orders the rest of your friends and soon you and him are off to find Astoria - running up and down between corridors and hidden alcoves in hopes of finding your best friend, your missing piece.

After ten minutes of looking you find her, fighting for the right side with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, with blood smearing her cheeks and her eyes blown wide with fear.

That’s when Draco feels like he can breathe again.

You and Draco rush up to her and capture her in your combined embrace - trying to focus solely on the faint smell of pomegranate that wafts off of her hair, trying to commit this moment to memory so that you can always remember what it felt like to have the two pieces of your heart back together again.

“You found me.” Astoria breathes out as tears fall down her face.

“We always come back to each other.” Draco says back as he smiles down at her and you wipe the tears off of her face.

“Don’t be sappy.” She responds as she chokes out a laugh.

“I can’t help it, I was worried that I might have to marry Daphne instead!” He exclaims and the three of you laugh, despite the awkwardness of the situation, almost forgetting that walls are crumbling around you and lives are fading out into nothing.

“You should know by now that I’d never leave you to suffer that fate.”

“I do bumblebee.”

It’s when she looks up into his eyes finally that she sees it, the difference between his love for you and his love for her. There is a different kind of love, safety, understanding, lust, that transpires between you both when you look into each other’s eyes, one that doesn’t appear when he looks into her own. The light that shines in you and Draco’s eyes when you look at Astoria is a dim comparison to the light that shines when you look at each other; a candle compared to the sun.

You both love her. And she, oddly, loves you both. But it’s not the way that you love each other, and Draco would never be able to love her again after loving you so fiercely.

She sighs and puts on a small smile. “Please can we go?”

“Yes, of course. We’ve got to find the others.

“Same side, always.” Draco insists and you look up to him and shake your head.

“Draco, I can’t ju-“

“Same side, always.” Astoria repeats, with pleading eyes, and you sigh before nodding.

“Same side, always.” You reply as you turn to head back in the direction that you came from. Astoria holds out both of her hands, you and Draco take them happily, and the three of you walk toward the end of the war together.

Later when you arrive in the courtyard to hear that Harry Potter is dead Astoria immediately runs to join her sister and her parents on the other side, on Voldemort’s side. And not soon after, you follow Draco as he joins his parents on the other side, keeping your promise to always be on the same side.

It’s only when you’re all in the Malfoy Manor later that evening after defecting when the reality of your situation finally dawns on you and you break down in tears- tears of grief, pain, anguish, anger, relief. Astoria watches in envy as Narcissa receives you in her arms- tears staining her face already as she grips you so tight that you might suffocate. She keeps you in her arms for a while- soothing your light sobs, sending hushed whispers and reassurances your way, promising that they’ll protect you and thanking you for keeping her son safe. Lucius says nothing and doesn’t allow his expressionless demeanor to fall, but when you finally pull away from Narcissa to stand beside Draco, Lucius grabs your hand and squeezes it- a gesture so small that one could easily miss it, but one that says everything he possibly could’ve said in that moment.

Then, she realises that she didn’t lose, how could she when it had never been a competition in the first place. Draco had always belonged to her on paper, but his love for you was written in the stars from the moment that you were both born. Astoria didn’t lose because she was never in the race, in fact there was never a race to begin with.

It had always been you.

~~~

2001

 A few years passed- names were forgotten, new engagements were made, houses were moved out of and new homes were created on the ashes of grief- but one morning she felt her heart drop deep into the pit of her stomach. Lying on her kitchen counter was a gorgeous invitation to a wedding, you and Draco’s wedding, and a letter from you- in which you begged for her to be your bridesmaid.

After the war Astoria had told her parents and the Malfoy’s that she couldn’t go through with the arranged marriage- that he deserved to marry someone that he loved instead- and then she’d pack up her bags and started traveling the world- desperately in search of a love like yours and Draco’s. She didn’t succeed, she couldn’t find anyone that she loved with that much magnitude. So after two fruitless years of traveling she’d returned to the UK - applying for and receiving the appointment of Hogwarts Charms teacher once she’d gotten back.

Slowly, bit by bit, she began to reach out to her old friends and of course, you and Draco had been the first to respond- excited to see her again and yearning for the old days when the three of you would lose time laughing together. She’d been shocked to find out that the two of you had done some traveling as well- exploring Asia, Africa, South America and North America alike, eating food from every culture you came across and dancing to music that you’d never hear back home- and the three of you had spent the next few months meeting up for dinner and talking about your travels.

That was perfect, to Astoria, that was all she needed.

A year passed since she’d been home when Draco surprised you one night, serenading you with poetry he’d written about you over the years and getting down on one knee to proclaim his immeasurable, undying love for you and his eternal devotion to you. The very next morning the two of you were sending out invitations and you were begging for Astoria to be your bridesmaid.

She said yes, of course, and she was the best bridesmaid that you could’ve asked for.

~~~

2002

She’d cried - whether it was to mourn a love that once was or to celebrate a love that now is, she didn’t know. When you and Draco had said your vows she had cried, and the first thing that you and Draco had done once the ceremony had ended was engulf her in your arms. She’d been there for every stage of your relationship and if it hadn’t been for her the two of you probably wouldn’t have been able to get married.

She laughs in the midst of her tears as the two of you hug her- lost in a bittersweet trance of happiness and discontent, she feels full of the love that the two of you hold for each other but there’s a gaping hole that still begs to be filled in her own chest. “Why are you two hugging me? It’s your wedding!”

You wipe a few tears that have fallen down your own face- completely forgetting that your makeup will be ruined- and pull away to face her. “We’re thanking you. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

“We’re in debt to you bumblebee.” Draco says with a chuckle and she shakes her head immediately at his words.

“You two owe me nothing - your happiness is enough for me.” And in a way it’s true, the two of you having each other fulfills her in a distant but comforting manner. “Now, time to throw the bouquet!” She exclaims as she clings onto your wrist and pulls you away from your groaning husband.

When the bouquet lands in Astoria’s hands, instead of the many other women circling around her, she feels her breath hitch in her throat. Who can she possibly marry when she’ll never love anyone the way that she loves-

“If I’m not your bridesmaid as well then I’ll kill you at the alter.” You cut off her train of thought as you come up to her with a big smile.

“I wouldn’t dream of it being anyone else.” She replies with a smile and you both laugh as you catch each other in one last warm embrace before everyone moves up to the reception.

It’s the way your hands fit perfectly around her waist, the way you breath runs along her ear as you laugh absent-mindedly, and the way you smile at her when you pull apart. You smile at her but it’s not enough to make her smile back because she finally sees what she’s been trying desperately not to see for so long. You smile at her- bright, warm, inviting, happy- the way a friend smiles at another, with love and adoration and support. But it’s just not enough.

It’s at that moment she realises.

She isn’t in love with him. No. She can’t be.

She’s in love with you.

<~>

I feel like this wasn't as angsty as I originally wanted it to be but I still really love it. :)

anyway, i’m currently listening to ‘break my heart again’ by finneas so i'm off to go cry about Astoria’s ending as if i am her.

IN REGARDS TO A SEQUEL: It might be coming soon.

love you all

jean <3

970 notes · View notes

imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

I Need You

A/N: This was found on Pinterest, so if you're the owner, let me know so I can give you the credits.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2 K

Requested by anons: 1- I'm like super in love with a certain Daryl Dixon and I was wondering if you could write about them getting into a big argument and they like avoid eachother for a while (super angsty if you care lol) and then Carol and Rick just kinda make yall talk and it ends fluffy? 2 - Can i request a daryl x reader where the reader’s been with the group since atlanta, maybe set during when they’re at the prison?? daryl realizes he has a crush on the reader and just p a n i c s ? and just really sweet fluff????

Summary: After you almost get bit, Daryl loses his mind and lashes out on you. Tired of the constant arguments, the group finds a way to out you two together to try and fix things up.

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

“Yer almost got bit!” Daryl shouts, voice echoing through the prison. “Yer too damn stubborn, yer not goin’ on runs anymore.” He has his back at you as you follow him, struggling to keep his pace.

“I had everything under control.” You complain, ignoring Carol's questioning stare.

You, Daryl, and Maggie went on a run earlier today. Not too far, just to get some more formula for Judith. A walker fell from the roof, and it happened to be on a specific place Daryl told you not to go. The thing's teeth got a little too close to your arm, and Daryl shot an arrow through its head.

“Ya sure did!” He stops, turning around and pointing a finger at you. “If I weren't near ya, I'd be carryin’ ya back here with a freakin’ bite.” His voice gets louder, and you never saw Daryl so... Angry. So pissed. He's scaring you. “Or would ya have me cut her damn arm off? How does that sound?”

“Stop yelling at me!” You burst out, giving his chest a push.

“I'll stop yellin’ when ya understand how stupid and dangerous that was!” He steps forward, towering over you and you never felt so small.

“We needed those antibiotics!”

“Well, I freakin’ need ya. I need ya alive! Alive and well and breathin’.” Daryl shouts, right at your face. But the moment the words come out, he stops, stepping back. He seems confused, taken aback by something. “Screw that, I need a break from savin’ yer ass.” And then, he leaves, walking fast.

Huffing, you turn around, going to your cell.

You take the longest shower you can, washing the sweat and all the disgusting things the dead left on your skin. But most of the time, you were already done, dressed, and dried. You just wanted to be away from everyone. But eventually, you have to walk out. And of course, Carol finds you on your way back to your cell.

“(Y/N), I–”

“Daryl is such an asshole.” You say cutting her off and dropping on bed. “Did you see that? Did you see how he yelled at me? As if he has the right to do so.” Getting back up you pace around.

“I just think–”

“You know what? He can go to hell.” Throwing both hands in the air, you complain. “He and his crossbow, and-and his super hot stare and the stupid angel wings vest. And the bike too. All it. Straight to hell!”

“Aren't you just–”

“Uhg! Damn it.” Crossing your arms, you sigh. “Did you hear him forbidding me to go on runs?” With your hands now on your hips, you stare at Carol. “As if! Who the hell does he think he is? My boyfriend? To hell with him.”

“Will you let me talk?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Shrugging your shoulders, you nod.

But she doesn't say anything, she just takes a deep breath and shakes her head lightly. “Look, why don't you calm down first, and then we talk.” Carol gestured at the bed and you sit down, sighing. “Good... Try to relax and deal with it after a good night's sleep.”

“I could sleep a thousand years and I'd still be mad at Daryl.” You mutter as she leaves, lying on your back with your eyes closed.

You don't know where all this anger comes from, but it's always there, waiting to flow out. You do care about him, maybe too much, but it doesn't mean he gets to yell and boss you around like that. “Asshole!” You shout one last time, arms crossing as you drown in anger.

“I saw it,” Daryl exclaims, pacing around the guard tower, breathing and talking fast. “I saw her dyin’. I saw that thing bitin’ her, tearin’ her flesh.”

“She's fine, Daryl. You don't have to keep thinking about it.” Rick tries to calm him down, both hands raised at the archer.

“No, ya don't understand.” It's useless though. Daryl is a mess. He got into the shower as soon as (Y/N) got out, rubbing the walker's blood out of his skin. But after that, he went straight to Rick because he needs to vent. He needs to yell and understand why he feels so damn scared.

Why he feels like a switch was turned on, lighting up something that was there all along, but only now was brought to light.

Losing anyone from his group, from his family would hurt bad.

But he just found out that losing her would be far worse.

“I her dyin’, man.” He slows down, both hands on his head. “I saw her dyin’ and–”

“You love her.”

“What the hell, Rick?” He snaps, a hand violently gesturing at his friend.

“You might not want to admit it, but it's true. You know it.” Rick nods, a hand casually resenting on his holster. “We all know it since Atlanta. She loves you too.”

Daryl grunts, turning his back at Rick. “Yer crazy. And so is she.”

“You should sit and talk like civilized people.”

“I ain't gonna talk to her. Crazy chick.” He mutters, grabbing his crossbow a bit tighter. “She ain't goin’ on runs anymore. At least not without me.”

“Daryl–”

“Gotta go.” The archer cuts him off, leaving the guard tower at a fast pace.

He didn't like the ideas Rick put in his head.

“Rick wants to make a room for Carl and Judith on the second floor,” Carol says as you climb the stairs next to her. “So we're cleaning up the cells.”

“Alright.” You don't really want to help. Not today at least. The nap you took didn't help much with the last issue, and you're considering going out tomorrow, just to clear your head a bit. “What do you need me to do?”

“We're just setting things up.”

“Mmm.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair as you follow her pace. Carol takes you to the very back of the corridor, to a pretty isolated cell. “You gonna put the kids here? This cell sucks. It's too–” You stop talking when you see Daryl inside, eyes-rolling. “Look, I won't help if he helps.” It sounds childish, but you don't care. You're far too pissed at the man to be near him.

“Look, I don't care if you guys argued.” Rick walks over you, friendly touching your arm. “You two just have to get your shkt together.” And you're suddenly pushed, almost stumbling inside the cell.

“What the hell?” You shout, but the moment you move, Rick pulls the bars close locking you inside. “Rick, drop it. I'm not joking.” Holding the bars, you shoot him and Carol an angry stare. “Open up.”

“There are blankets and dinner will be brought to you,” Carol says, arms crossed. “We did that because it's the only way to force you guys to talk.”

“Yeah. You'll have the whole night to figure out whatever has you both always at each other's throat.” Rick adds, sliding the key into his pocket. “Have a nice time.”

And like that, both jerks leave, talking something you can't hear. Sighing, you lay your forehead on the cold metal bars, not wanting to look at your company for the night.

“Yer can take the bed.” He says after a while.

“Obviously.” You're quick to snap. “It's your fault we're here in the first place.”

“How's that?”

“If you didn't come back from the run making a hell of a show about something that didn't even happen, we wouldn't be locked up in here.” Turning around, with both hands on your hips, you stare at him.

“If ya had listened to me, ya wouldn't have–”

“And why in the hell do I have to listen to you, Dixon? I know my way out there as well as you do.”

“ ‘Cause I jus’ wanna keep ya safe.” He's yelling again, stepping forward.

“Stop acting like I mean anything to you!” With a finger on his face, you move closer to him. You wish you could look intimidating, but being so small, that's very difficult.

“Maybe ya do mean somethin’ ta’ me! How could ya know that if ya never ask!”

“Well, I–” The answer is cut short when your furious brain processes what he just said. Furrowing your eyebrows together, you shrug your shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“Nothin’.”

“Daryl, what do you mean?” Raising your voice again, you follow him as he moves further into the cell. “What would you answer if I ask?”

“I ain't gonna answer.”

“Daryl–”

“I ain't gonna answer!” He shouts again, turning around to look at you.

Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of the bed, folding a leg under you. “Do you hate me?”

“What?”

“Do you hate me, Daryl?” Your voice is lower now because you do want to know.

He remains silent for a while, those blue eyes locked on yours. “No.”

“Then why–”

“I can't lose ya.” He bursts out, eyes now looking at the floor. “At that moment back there, I... I saw it happenin’. I saw ya dyin’, and I... I can't lose ya. I can't see ya gettin’ hurt.”

His voice is so low you can barely hear it. You've never seen Daryl so... Scared. Vulnerable. “You can't protect me all the time, Daryl. Accidents happen.”

“I can. I can keep ya safe if ya listen to me.” You're about to protest when Daryl comes to sit next to you, eyes on the wall across the cell. “I know ya can survive out there. But my mind works in a thousand different ways ta’ get stuff done without anyone gettin’ hurt. I need ya ta’ trust me. Ta’ believe I can keep ya safe.”

“But I need you to believe me too. To believe I can do this.” Turning your body towards him, you friendly touches his arm. “Daryl, I... I like you... A lot. And I admire you, I trust you. You taught me so much and I need you to trust me. I promise I'll be more careful, but I need you to–”

“Don't go out there without me.” He suddenly says, voice heavy. “I trust ya. Yer brave and strong. But if ya go out there and I can't keep my eyes on ya... I'll lose my damn mind.”

“Alright.” Nodding, you sigh, smiling a little. “Just don't yell at me again, Daryl Dixon.”

“Yer almost died and I... Damn it, (Y/N), –”

“I like you too, Dixon.” Standing up to your feet, you smile, looking down at him. “You don't have to say if you don't want to, just... Let's get this over with. The world is a freaking mess and if you like me and I like you we should be together.” You can't believe you're saying this, after so long. But it feels good. You feel good, secure. “Just let me know what you want.”

“Ya.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blue eyes locked on yours.

“Alright.” Mirroring his head movement, you clear your throat, cheeks burning. After a few seconds of silence, you walk to the bars. “RICK! CAROL! Daryl and I are dating now, can we go?” You yell, and the low chattering downstairs goes silent.

“Would it be so bad ta' stay locked in here with me for a night?” Daryl asks, and you turn around, biting your lip to hold back a smile.

“Absolutely not.” Shrugging your shoulders, you slowly move to the bed, climbing on and lying down. “I'm actually sleepy and it's cold so it'll be nice to have someone to warm me up at night.”

“Don't push it.”

“I'm not.” Giggling, you feel as he lies down, close enough so his shoulder is touching your back. “Night, D. It was good to sort things out with you.”

“Good night, pretty girl.” He mutters and you smile, eyes closing and sleep easily overcoming you, thanks to the amazing feeling of having Daryl lying next to you.

#daryl fanfiction #imagine daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixion imagine #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction

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permanentcrossfics · 3 years

Text

Twelve Hours In Miami // h.s.

You looked at the alarm clock next to your bed. “It’s 6:15.”

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but… it’s my last day here. And I haven’t seen you once.”

“You were busy,” you said automatically, a familiar excuse that had become rote at some point. “We were--”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Busy, busy, always busy. “But my flight’s not until this afternoon, so I thought… my morning’s free, and if you want to….”

“What time is your flight?”

Eleven, twelve, one…?

“Five.”

“Five!?”

“Thirty,” he confirmed. “That’s when I leave for the airport, anyway.”

He was not serious. He couldn’t be.

“You’re seriously--”

“Going to spend the next twelve or so hours with you, yeah,” he said in one quick breath. “If you’ll let me.”

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

This took a minute (yes, I hate italicizing from Google and making a Wattpad cover that much. Yes, I will avoid it like the plague. Yes, there was a lot else going on, as well). Thank you to all of you who were patient! I hope you enjoy xx

The knock on your door was too loud, insistent, and rhythmic for it to be an accident, but it was too early for it to be anybody you’d want in your room.

Whatever it was in the Miami air, it’d absolutely drained you of all energy. Every night since you’d landed, you’d passed out at 11:00pm, sharp, and slept until around 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning, and the only reason you got out of bed then was the only reason you were even in the city to begin with.

“Work trip? To Miami?”

Harry had brightened considerably when you mentioned when and where you’d be going for a quick turnaround, and you hadn’t understood why until he told you what wasn’t quite public yet. He’d be working, too, and his calendar was full (he’d absolutely deserved the ribbing you gave him when he told you that), but, “‘S’nice sometimes, y’know? To have a friend around?”

Friend. You hadn’t seen your friend in the three days it’d been since you landed. Even despite being in the same hotel. Even despite having pockets of time in both your schedules that worked, and while part of it might be your fault and your inability to stay awake, part of it was just… timing.

So much of what was between you could be boiled down to timing and lack thereof. Why would a weekend be any different? Why, on this weekend, would you be able to make it work when he had meetings and events jammed in and you had obligations of your own? Why would now work any better than the other opportunities that had fizzled despite every hope, effort, and intention?

The knocking continued and you groaned, throwing the blankets you’d been huddled under down the bed as you twisted to look at the hotel alarm clock.

Six in the morning. Six! And they were still going! They’d better be telling you something extremely good or extremely awful to be trying to break down your door this early, but when you glanced through the peephole, your annoyance was tempered with shock and a shot of elation. He was looking up and down the hall, suitcase on the ground next to him and already dressed for the day, and it was then you became aware of how little you were dressed.

“Hang--” You cleared your throat and tapped the door. “Hang on, I’ll be right….” You scrambled back to the armchair you’d thrown your robe on last night to have something on over the camisole and underwear you’d crawled into bed with before twisting the locks and opening the door. “Is everything-- what are you doing here?”

His shoulders rose and fell with his deep breath and you swore you thought his eyes took a quick trip up and down your body. “Morning,” he said, his own voice miles smoother than yours. How long had he been awake? “D’you mind if I…?”

You shook your head and stepped back and he and his baggage disappeared into your room as you closed up. When you rejoined him, he’d deposited his suitcase next to the luggage rack that held yours, and he’d taken off the tinted sunglasses that he had no business wearing so early in the morning, anyway. “Did they kick you out?” you asked, still struggling to grasp for real words that meant anything.

He smiled halfway and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.” Now that he was in your room, you could pay attention to him. His hair looked like it still had a little bit of leftover product in it, but not in a dirty, greasy way. His loose-fitting trousers were fastened snugly right above his hips, but it was the t-shirt that made your mouth go dry and your mind wander. Tight and tucked into his trousers, gloves wished they could fit hands like this fit his torso. It was close, and you could see practically every line and indentation of his stomach and chest.

“Hmm?”

He laughed once. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh.” You took a deep breath. “Why are you here?” you asked.

“Figured I’d come hang out.”

You looked at the alarm clock next to your bed. “It’s 6:15.”

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but… it’s my last day here. And I haven’t seen you once.”

“You were busy,” you said automatically, a familiar excuse that had become rote at some point. “We were--”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Busy, busy, always busy. “But my flight’s not until this afternoon, so I thought… my morning’s free, and if you want to….”

“What time is your flight?”

Eleven, twelve, one…?

“Five.”

“Five!?”

“Thirty,” he confirmed. “That’s when I leave for the airport, anyway.”

He was not serious. He couldn’t be.

“You’re seriously--”

“Going to spend the next twelve or so hours with you, yeah,” he said in one quick breath. “If you’ll let me.”

His eyes were wide and hopeful but guarded, you realized, anticipating the possibility that you might say no.

“I’ve been trying for days.” The quiet confession almost drowned in the deafening silence of the room, and in that moment, you remembered every missed call, every text, every visit to your door that he’d stolen just to see you before he had to run off to an event and you had to crawl into bed. You remembered every fleeting embrace, every missed kiss to the corner of your mouth, every look that had lasted a second too long to be normal and lacked the ability to make him stay. “But we just never… s’never a good time, so I’m making the time for you now. If that’s something you want.”

“Do I want time with you?” You clutched the neckline of your robe like an old woman clutched pearls, and your throat felt tight, full of words you’d swallowed again, and again, and again. Did you want time with him? Of course you wanted time with him. Five minutes, five hours, five days, five years, you wanted anything he could give, but you’d given up on that a little bit. Not on him, but on you.

“Can y’make time?” His throat bobbed and the smile he gave you was crushingly vulnerable even with its self-assured charm. “For me?”

Yes or no. In or out. Carpe diem.

You nodded and it was like a pin had pricked the bubble around both of you, tension easing out in a whistle. Harry shuffled closer and you stood, glued to the carpet in your bare feet, as he lifted his hands. He hesitated for a moment and you saw a glimpse of his tongue held between his lips in thought before he cupped your cheeks. Together, you exhaled, and your eyes closed, heart racing uncontrollably. His hands were warm, sturdy, and soft in their own way, and your lips parted when he drew his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks.

Days after weeks after months after who knew how long, and now he was standing in front of you in a hotel room of all places with less than twelve hours before he had to leave for the airport, but if it was all the time in the world you had….

He kissed you, then, and what little time you had left stood still. A distinct sensation of relief flooded through you, like a geyser that had been waiting to gush, and you sighed through your nose, leaning into his mouth. He’d shaved, but you could still feel the sandpaper of his chin against yours, and it was a sharp contrast to the soft sweep of his tongue into your mouth. For all of five seconds, you couldn’t think, or move, but when he groaned -- deep, throaty, and in a way only he could -- it snapped something in you.

His chest and stomach were firm under your roaming hands, although you liked the softness around his hips best because of the way he sucked in a quick breath. You curled your fingers into the cotton and swayed when he stepped forward and tipped your head back to deepen the kiss further, showing both his hand and his greed, and it was your turn to whimper when he slipped one of his hands down your neck and over your shoulder underneath the robe you’d thrown on. Not anything like the friendly pats and lingering squeezes he’d given you in the past and that you’d returned in kind. There was intent for skin, skin, and more skin in this, and you’d no sooner put your hand on the knot around your waist than he’d joined your fingers with his to pull what you hadn’t realized you’d tied so well.

You shivered when it dropped to the floor, but stretched yourself out against his body when he wrapped his arms ever so carefully around your back. It was like despite having his tongue down your throat (don’t think about it, or you’ll laugh and ruin the moment, you reminded yourself), he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you or where he could put his hands. It was sweet -- funny, but sweet, and respectful in a way you hadn’t anticipated but could have, maybe, expected? He was only a man, and common decency was a low bar, but if the situation were reversed, you didn’t know if you’d think or be able to do the same. His arms were crossed over your back at his forearms, but you could sense his palms hovering out to the side even as kisses grew increasingly frantic with nicking teeth and off center meetings of your mouths. Focusing very hard on not losing those, you clumsily squeezed his bicep until he relinquished his hold a bit, but before he could finish his mumbled question, you grabbed his wrist and, without preamble, placed his hand on one of your breasts.

Despite not wanting to lose the kisses -- they were good kisses, needed kisses, kisses you’d waited a long time for -- you both broke and stood there, nose to nose, chests heaving with his hand cupped over your breast. This was….

“S’different,” he rasped and you nodded. Not just friends, not just kissing. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, over tendons that were struggling not to flex and to squeeze and feel. He must’ve taken the pause as hesitation, because he started to pull his hand away, but you shook your head and held his hand in place before bearing down on it with gentle pressure.

“Ok,” you whispered breathlessly, nodding slightly, and when he kissed you again, he caught your chin, then your jaw, your neck -- all the way down -- and then across your shoulder. You were glad he was holding onto you when your head tipped back as he pulled the strap of your camisole to the side to sponge eager kisses any and everywhere you’d let him, because honestly? If he didn’t have his arm slanted between your shoulder blades, your legs would’ve crumpled from underneath you.

As it was, you both nearly tripped on your robe when you moved backwards towards the bed, and you landed harder than he did. Your laughs were welcome in the moment, though, and did nothing to alter the mood, and you were still giggling when he resumed his kisses. They only quieted when he reached your chest, and for some inexplicable reason, you tried very hard not to breathe as his own and his lips and the tip of his nose dragged and tickled your skin, but when he slipped his fingers under your neckline to tug it down, there was no need to try at all.

“Holy shit,” he uttered under his breath in faint disbelief. You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was in awe of you, before his lips were on your breasts, moving between them in a very careful, very attentive, almost laughably even way, like he didn’t want to miss anything. Your back arched slightly when he settled against you, body warm and mouth hot between your breasts as he nuzzled, kissed, licked, and sucked, taking his time to learn how they felt and what made you moan. As he explored, you did, too, if less so, but your hands found his hair, and petted his face, and ran up and down his shoulders, arms, and back. It was when his own reached between your legs that you clamped your thighs down over his wrist and he lifted up.

“Ok?” His eyes were dark and his hair mussed -- partially thanks to you -- and the pink flush in his cheeks had nothing on the color of his mouth. His forehead was damp and you belatedly realized your chest was, too, and you could feel yourself quivering with the heat of his hand pressed so intimately against you.

“Yes.” You pressed your hand to his cheek and he turned into your wrist, breathing deeply and kissing your pulse point.

“Is this…?” He swallowed. “I don’t-- we don’t have to do anything more, I only--”

“No,” you rushed to say. “No, I just… wasn’t expecting--”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve--”

“It’s ok,” you said. “I’m ok. I want to, it just felt--” New, different, good, so fucking good, and it’d surprised you.

“Sure?”

Wordlessly, you nodded, and forced your legs to open despite how tense with anticipation they were. You nodded again and let out a slow breath, but he watched you until your eyes closed and your body melted into the mattress. When he finally ran his thumb down your slit through your underwear, you clenched and bit your lip to muffle a sound, lips twitching. This felt… nice. Better than nice, this care and intention stoked something in you that you didn’t remember feeling since you were a frustrated and hormonal teenager raging out of control. He was going to fit the minutes and hours from days and months that had been squandered into every second of the twelve hours you had left, wasn’t he?

Harry pressed his thumb into your clit and rubbed smooth, warm circles over it, and you touched the back of your hand to your mouth. “That’s good,” you mumbled, heartbeat quickening, face crumpling when he increased the pressure slightly. It was when he kissed your abdomen that you whimpered and pushed your hand into his hair, but he kept kissing along the waistband of your underwear, and your belly tensed when he took a deep breath. You weren’t quite aware of when or how he got them off you -- let alone how he’d managed to do so seamlessly and without awkward wriggles or kicks or knees to his face -- but you were very aware of when he finally had you spread open and he was on his stomach between your legs. You were very aware of how hot his breath was on your cunt, and you were very aware of the sound of that first delicate, velvety lick in dead silence. He got through three, maybe four, careful, languid strokes of his tongue in, with his eyes closed in steadfast concentration and his hair falling over his brow before he licked up your slit and finished it with your clit firmly suctioned into his mouth.

Your jaw dropped in awe. “Oh my--!” His lips fluttered and your whole chest opened with your breath. “Ah…!”

He groaned and your eyes watered, and you watched, unable to tear yourself away. He was ravenous -- eating you out like his life depended on it while simultaneously holding back and never giving or taking as much as either of you wanted. Each glide of his tongue was deep and smooth, and each suck hollowed his cheeks for only a moment. You whimpered and pulled your fingers through his hair uselessly to quell the jitters and need to do something. Every time you thought he was going to suckle for a little longer, a little harder, he’d break off abruptly and the inch you’d gained climbing would be erased by your backslide. You were sweating from the effort and duration it was taking -- your breasts and stomach had a sheen on them, and your thighs slipped against the side of his head. His roots were damp and hot, too, to the point where the air conditioner may as well have stopped working, but for all the world he looked like he’d never been happier or more content than he was to be eating your pussy.

“H-Harry….” Your breath hitched, a muted cry caught in your throat when again he released the toe-curling suction too soon for it to matter. “Please, please,” you begged, fingers combing through his hair as your pelvis rolled under his mouth. “I can’t… I wanna cum.” Straight to the point, unable to wheedle or dance around the subject -- it wasn’t like he didn’t have his face pressed into your cunt right then or anything. “I wanna cum, I really--”

His eyes, which had been closed up until that point, slowly opened and locked on you, darker than you thought you’d ever seen them. One of his hands unstuck itself from your thigh and he reached up your stomach and you clasped it in yours, fingers laced tightly with an almost crushing intensity between his as you nodded encouragingly, desperately, mouthing please, please to him. He shifted against the mattress, then, and, still holding your gaze and your hand, he puckered his lips.

The ugliest sound ripped from your chest, but you laughed in almost hysterical relief because he wasn’t stopping -- at long last, he wasn’t stopping, and the pressure and tension tickling your abdomen grew tighter, promising to live to its full potential. “Holy shit!” you breathed, smiling despite yourself. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum… you’re gonna make me cum, I’m-- oh!”

You cried out when he pressed his mouth closer, rutting his face against you in a steady rhythm. The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes were his, and you wheezed and whimpered your way through convulsions with their hunger burned into your eyes as you called out for him. You’d never felt an orgasm like this -- so thorough, deep, and full bodied, and entirely draining.

“Fuck!”

It wasn’t the guttural swear that made your eyes fly open even as the room spun, but the sensation of his teeth against your thigh. Not hard, but sharp, and when you looked at him you found his face screwed up against your leg, rutting against the mattress. Belatedly, your brain put the pieces together -- it wasn’t just his face in your cunt, it’d been his whole body, the whole time, driving himself against the bed in search of his own relief with his mouth full of you and your thigh when he wasn’t whimpering breathless apologies and confessions of how hard he was (“M’sorry-- oh, shit, m’so-- m’hard, m’sorry, love, m’so-- hurts, I just need--!”). He squeezed your thigh with bruising force, letting out keening moans as his shakes turned to shudders, and you knew he was finished when he let out a noise so deep your hair stood on end and he came to a sudden stop with his face still burrowed against your leg.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “F-fuck, s’so… sorry, that’s….” He pressed his forehead into your skin. “That was incredible,” he said, voice thick and unevenly pitched. “You were….”

He picked his head up and wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose with his thumb before slipping it past his lips and sucking lightly, forehead lined in agony. With weak fingers, you tugged the back of his t-shirt, and he crawled on even weaker hands and knees up your body. It was a struggle to get it untucked from his trousers and even worse to get it off his torso from how damp it was, but eventually you did, and you threw it away with a whoosh and a thud. He kicked his worn in white Vans off his feet and they landed with a thunk off the side of the bed, and his trousers were next, and when they were gone, you flattened yourself against him, mouth on his shoulder and leg between his, desperately seeking skin on skin.

“Alright?” He cupped the back of your head. “Ok?” You nodded and he kissed your forehead. “You’re ok,” he mumbled. “You’re good, honey.”

“Are you?” you asked against him. Because he couldn’t stop trembling -- his muscles kept jumping under your touch and his heart was giving its own big band performance in his chest.

“L’be fine,” he said. “Be ok, just need… need a minute.”

Gradually, his heart and yours both slowed and heavy breathing evened out. And the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes for good and slipped under was the time.

6:52. Ten and a half hours to go.

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #reader insert fanfiction #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #twelve hours in miami #twelve hours in miami 1 #permanentcross #permanentcross fic #original writing

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thevampiresiren · 3 years

Text

Gone Too Soon

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Genre: ANGST, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Leon end up having a miscarriage and he heavily blames himself. Now he wants to try again.

WARNINGS: miscarriage, cursing, alochol as a coping mechanism, depression, self doubt, oral sex (m&f), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (stay safe my friends!)

A/N: I know this is a VERY touchy subject. I personally have never had a miscarriage but I know someone who has so this may not be 100% accurate. Also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it sucks😅

Lennox is pronounced Len (rhymes with pen) nox (Nyx like the makeup brand or Nick's)

Leon never really wanted to have kids. With your all's job and the world that everyone was living in with B.O.W.s and death knocking on the door, the last thing he ever wanted was bringing another life into it. So when you first told him you were pregnant, it didn't settle well with him. Leon didn't see himself as the parenting type and the thought of something happening to you or the baby terrified him. But now that you both had accepted it and you were now 7 weeks pregnant, Leon couldn't be happier. He was always rubbing and littering your lower belly with kisses, telling it how much he loved the little being growing inside of you.

"I hope we have a girl." Leon said while you two were laying in bed. His right hand was gently rubbing your belly while he had his left arm around you, pulling you to his chest.

"As long as they have your blue eyes, I don't care what we have." You said smiling moving a strand of your husband's blonde hair out of his face. Even though he was only in his black sweatpants, you couldn't help but think of how handsome he was. Leon rolled his eyes smiling, kissing you and your belly goodnight.

A few hours later you rolled out of bed to head to the bathroom. You had thought that your bladder was just full and the pressure was just from having to relive yourself. When Leon awoke from you screaming his name, he thought someone had come in and attacked you. He jumped out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom door busting it open.

"Babe! What's wro-." Leon stood to doorway of the bathroom and found you laying on the floor with your hands and disheveled h/c locks covering your face and crying your eyes out. You had removed your sleep pants and underwear and he tried his best to look away from them and what was on them. He sat on the floor beside you and pulled you in his lap; your head on his bear chest as you sobbed while your hands were in fists. He rubbed your back trying to soothe you and trying to ignore the aching pain in his heart. After a few minutes your cries of pain turned into faint sobs.

"We need to go to the hospital, Sweetheart. We need to see what's going on" Leon said just above a whisper. He knew in his mind exactly what happened. You both did, but he needed to make sure you yourself was actually okay physically.

*****

It had been ten months since you and Leon had lost the baby. To say Leon was depressed was an understatement. At the beginning of the loss he stayed strong for your sake. Always telling you it wasn't your fault, you didn't disappoint him, and that he loved you more than anything else in the world. But he was so focused on you and your grieving, that he never got to properly grieve himself. He started drowning himself in alcohol again to numb the pain and became more aggressive towards Claire and Chris. Tonight was no different when you got a call at 8pm from Claire.

"Y/N... Its Leon... He's been drinking too much and he's refusing to head home." She said in a sad voice. Your heart sank at the thought of Leon drowning himself in alcohol instead of coming to you.

"I'll be right there, Claire. Can you and your brother keep an eye on him for me until I get there?"

"Of course."

You grabbed your jacket and car keys and headed out to where Claire said Leon was.

When you parked the car outside of the bar, you saw Claire standing outside of it. She walked over to you after you got out of the car and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Are you doing okay? I haven't seen you since..." Claire cut herself off not wanting to cross any lines.

"I'm doing the best I can. I just want to get Leon back to the house though and get some sleep." Claire nodded and the two of you headed into the building. When you entered you caught Chris with his hand on Leon's arm, trying to force his attention causing Leon to shove him away forcefully.

"WILL YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE, REDFIELD."

"NOT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AND HEAD BACK HOME TO YOUR WIFE."

"GUYS!" Claire shouted, forcing the two to look over at her and Leon's eyes to focus on your form standing beside her. You walked over to stand beside Leon, causing Chris to move out of way and stand beside Claire. You placed your hand on top of his shoulder, looking into his broken eyes.

"Babe, I-"

"Not now, Leon." You softly said cutting him off. "Please, just come home." Your voice shaking. It took him a few moments but he gave a slight nod before picking up his leather jacket and heading towards the exit. You looked other at Chris and he gave you a sad smile while Claire told you to call her if you needed anything.

The drive back home was silent between the two of you. You focused on driving while Leon looked back and forth between the outside window and his lap, the alcohol slowly wearing off. When you arrived back your place, you hopped into the shower to de-stress yourself. When you walked back into the living room, you saw Leon sitting on the couch, eyes shut, hand on a glass of whiskey that was sitting on his thigh. You walked over to the sit beside him and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head on his chest. You felt Leon relax to your touch as he let out a deep sigh.

"Leon... We need to talk about this."

Leon went to bring the glass of alcohol up to his lips, but your hand on top of the glass and staled his movements. He looked down into your e/c eyes before pulling away and placing the glass on the coffee table.

"I'm so fucking sorry... Its my fault we lost the baby." Leon said looking down to the floor trying to hold back his tears.

"What the hell are you-"

"I didn't want kids. I never wanted kids. And I was so upset when I first found you were pregnant and blamed myself for not being careful enough." He said looking into your eyes facing you. "But then I got so fucking happy. I started loving the idea of seeing the first sonogram, hearing the heartbeat, feeling the kicks in your belly, you being called "mommy", and having another reason to keep this shithole we call the world safe." You noticed his voice started shaking more and tears were on the verge of escaping his now dull blue eyes. You weren't going to speak just yet, no matter how hard you wanted to cry. He needed to get everything out. Leon looked down at your wedding ring, and held onto your hand like his life depended on it.

"I thought three years ago when we got married that having you as my wife was the best feeling in the world and losing you would kill me. But us having a family was best feeling in the world and it was taken away from me because I was too selfish and scared in the beginning. And I want kids now but I'm terrified of them being taken away from me like this again." he said allowing his tears finally fall.

You wrapped your arms around his shaking form and laid down in the couch, situation yourself so he could lay his head on your chest. You gently ran your fingers through his soft golden locks to soothe him, letting your tears fall as well.

"Leon... this is not your fault and its absolutely NOT the world punishing you. You were scared and didn't know what to do. Hell, I was terrified." You lifted up his face to have him focus on you, gently stroking his stubbley cheek with your thumb.

"But you can NOT blame yourself for this. I love you too fucking much to see you fight yourself and think that world is punishing you for being scared." Your were crying in full force now. Leon gently grabbed the back of your neck, placing a gentle and loving kiss on your lips. You kissed him back smiling. Leon slowly pulled away, letting your noses still touch.

"I love you too, Angel." He said smiling, running his finger through your soft h/c locks. He paused for a moment, thinking about you, your lives, and everything that you both had been through. He looked into your e/c eyes with his loving blue ones.

"I want us to try again. I want a baby. Please, Sweetheart?"

Your heart swelled at the words coming from him. You've been wanting to try again over the last month, but were terrified of the outcome. But more than that you were willing to risk it all to have a family with the love of your life. With a giant smile on your face you said "Yes, Leon.".

That was all he needed to hear before he captured your lips in a deep passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he pulled closer to his body. Leon’s tongue gently licked your lips for an entrance that you happily allowed, making you quietly moan and sent shivers down your spine. His started slowing lifting your t-shirt up to caress your breasts and removed your bra while kissing down your neck leaving gentle bite marks. You let out a sigh and pushed Leon's jacket off of him, making him discard it somewhere on the floor. Leon wrapped your legs around his waist and picked you up to head to the bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed and hovered over you smiling.

"Aww, no couch sex this time?" You joked pouting your lips. Leon chuckled and peck your lips. He leaned back and removed his shirt revealing his toned body. You felt yourself getting more hot by the looking at the man above you who you loved for than life its self . As you scanned his body you noticed in his tight jeans that he was just as excited as you were. You reached your hands out to his waist to undo his belt when his hands gently grabbed your wrists. Leon looked down at you with his now dark navy blue lust and love filled eyes before placing your hands down to your sides.

"Not yet, Sweetheart." He said in a sultry voice causing your arousal to heighten. Leon removed your jeans in one swift motion. You look down at him as he place his large calloused hands on waist line of your panties, slowly pulling them off. The cool air caused you too shiver as it met your hot wet folds. You let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your inner thigh.

"Fuck. your soaking, Babe." Leon said while collecting your wetness.

"Leon... Please" you moaned. He smiled and gave your clit a gentle kiss before giving your heat the attention your body had been craving. His slow licks over your folds and feeling of facial hair rubbing against you set a fire inside of you. You felt your stomach begin to tighten when he began licking circles on your sensitive bud. Leon pushed your thighs up and further apart, giving him better access to suck on your clit and folds. A loud moan left your lips at the feeling and you tugged on his silky blonde locks. Leon moaned at the sting on his scalp, lavishing in the feeling and taste of your juices. He slowly inserted his index and in middle fingers into your wet cavern, rubbing that sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuuck, Leon." You moaned bucking your hips against his tongue and fingers. Your walls tighten around his fingers, signaling that you were close to your high. Leon moved his fingers faster, making your back lift off the bed and toes curl. Your orgasm took over your body, leaving you breathless. Your body shook and your juices soaking the sheets. Leon removed his fingers from inside you to lick off the mess on them and rubbed your thighs. He gently kissed your lips, allowing you to taste your release.

"You good, baby?" He said smirking while resting his forehead against yours. Catching your breath, you smiled.

"Better than good. But I think its only fair if I pay you back." You said smirking. Leon sat on his knees and allowed your hands removed his belt. With his help you removed his jeans and boxer briefs. His hard dick hit right below his belly button, the tip an angry red with a little bit of precum making your mouth drool. You positioned yourself so that you were sat up a little but still laying down and he was above you. You placed your hands around him and gently started stroking then up and down. Leon took a deep breath as you ran you thumb over his sensitive head before slowly taking him into your mouth. His length was hot and heavy on your tongue and the taste of his precum only turned you on more. You swirled your tongue around his tip and gently kissed it before kissing up from his pelvis to his faint happy trail while you continued to stroke him.

"God, you're going to be the end of me." Leon moaned out, looking into your e/c while gently stroking your cheek. Your smirked and popped him back into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down while stroking what couldn't fit into your mouth. Leon gently pulled you away kissed your lips, making you lay back down. You looked up at him confused.

"Not tonight, Babygirl.". He said before he slowly slid himself inside of you, kissing your forehead. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of him stretching your tight walls.

"Fuck..." Leon groaned at how tight you were. He moved his hips at a slow but deep pace while nipping at your neck collar bone. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him as close to you as physically possible so your bodies were flushed against each other. He slowly started picking up his pace, lifting your legs around his waist so he could hit the spot inside you that made you see stars. Your body felt like it was in fire, your nails digging into his back. Your walls hugged him like a vice, showing that you were close, making him moan into your neck.

"I love you." He whispered, his ocean eyes staring in yours with your foreheads and noses touching.

"I lo- love you too, Leon. So much." You said as you felt almost reaching your high. Leon placed his thumb on clit, tracing circles around. You moaned loudly, Leon kissing you passionately as you came hard. As you felt yourself come undone, your second orgasm much more intense than the first; you felt Leon cum inside of you. The warmth of his seed soothing your aching walls, he gently pulled away from the kiss. He rubbed his nose against yours while gently rubbing your sides with him still inside of you as he began softening. Both of you held each other close, trying to catch your breathes. After a few minutes, Leon slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you whimpering as you missed the feeling of each other. He pulled you close, laying your head on top of his chest and wrapping the covers over the both of you.

"You okay?" Leon asked tired while stroking your cheek. You moved a strand of his disheveled hair out of his face.

"I've never been better." You said with a tired smile, bringing him into a gentle kiss. "I love you, Leon." You said.

Leon smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"I love you more.".

****

"The files for the new job are in the manila envelope over there." You said pointing to the kitchen island.

"Another? I just came back from one." Leon said as he walked over to you.

"Yeah, but apparently were working on this one together." You said shrugging your shoulders.

Leon sat down at the island and opened the envelope and saw some papers and another white envelope. Leon looked over the papers and saw that one was actually a blood test from the doctor's and one thing stood out to him

Y/N Kennedy:

Pregnancy Test- Positive

Leon stared at the words in front of him for a moment in awe. He jumped from where he was sitting, knocking the bar stool over, and ran over to you gently placing his hands on your belly.

"You're pregnant?! How far along are you?!" Leon asked excited.

You laughed at how he was basically acting like a kid getting the best Christmas present he could have gotten.

"Yup. I'm 10 weeks and the baby is as healthy as they can be."

Leon picked you up in his strong arms and gently twirled you around kissing you.

"You still have another thing to open, Kennedy." You said when he set you down, handing him the little envelope.

Leon looked at you and opened it. In the envelope were sonogram pictures. Leon felt tears fall down his face as he looked at the pictures. The pictures that symbolized your loved for each other. The little creation that was made out of the of you. Leon slightly jumped as he felt you wrapped your arms about his waist from beside him and kiss his chest; he instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder pulling you close.

"So, Mr. Kennedy. Are you ready to complete this mission with me?" You said looking up and smiling.

Leon set the sonogram down before wiping the tears from his face. He gently kissed your lips "Always, Mrs. Kennedy.".

****Epilogue****

Leon stepped through the front door of the house barley getting his shoes off before he heard the thumping of little feet.

"DADDY! I MISSED YOU." Your three-year-old daughter came running towards Leon and jumped into his arms.

Leon smiled at the girl with cute freckles and moved a strand of her h/c hair out of her face, gently kissing her forehead.

"Hi Princess, I missed you too. Where's Mommy?" He asked.

"I'm in here." You called from your shared bedroom.

"C'mon Daddy!" Your daughter said, as her gorgeous bright blue eyes she got from her father sparkled.

"Lennox, why don't you go grab a book for Daddy to read to you for bed?" you said.

"Okay, Mommy!" Lennox ran as fast as her little legs could take her into her bedroom to grab her book. Leon smiled at you. You were in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers that you had been wearing to bed as of late

“I missed my girls" Leon said while wrapping his arms around your waist, his hands landing on the small bump of your stomach. "He giving you a hard time?" He ask as he kissed your shoulder and laid his head on the crook of your neck. Leon could tell you were exhausted by how you relaxed immediately in his arms.

"Yeah, I haven't been able to keep anything down all day. Nyx was never this terrible when I was pregnant with her. He's going to be a stubborn pain in the ass like you". You said smiling causing Leon to laugh. He gently turned you around and kneeled down so he was at eye level with your belly and placed a gentle hand on it.

"Listen here little buddy. Give your mom a break okay? She's amazing and loves you very much. But she can't handle too us or she'll lose her shit." He gently spoke. You both felt a little kick from inside, almost like the little one was responding to you making you both laugh.

"Good, I'm glad we're on the same page kiddo." Leon said while kissing your stomach.

"I GOT IT!!" Lennox announced as she came back into the bedroom. Leon picked her up and carefully threw her over his shoulder making her laugh hysterically as he carried her into her room. You followed them into Lennox’s room and smiled as Leon kneeled down next to her bed and began tickling and giving her kisses. Once your daughter was asleep, the two of headed to bed yourselves. You laid down beside your husband and he began rubbing your belly again.

“'Not father material my ass" you said chuckling.

Leon rolled his eyes smiling before kissing your forehead. “I wouldn’t have this any other way.” He said looking into your eyes.

“Me either. I love you Leon Scott Kennedy.”

“I love you more Y/N Kennedy."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader smut #resident evil x reader

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven.

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind.

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there.

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair.

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story."

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.”

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh.

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?”

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web.

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project.

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile.

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter.

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise.

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine.

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes.

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile.

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior.

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging.

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers.

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle.

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

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i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 3 years

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I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby.

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants.

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones.

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that.

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that.

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations.

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

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lexosaurus · 3 years

Text

Going Angst Week 2021: Family/Friends

Read: [1: Birth] [2: Instinct]

Continuation of the No One Knows AU plotline.

---

Everything had changed since the accident. The biological differences were obvious. He glowed, his hair inverted, his eyes turned green, he had ectoplasm running through his veins, he was cold, he didn’t need to breathe as much in human form—the list went on.

But the psychological ones were easily more terrifying.

And nothing scared him more than the way his friends and family were treating him as of late.

He knew that deep down he would never be able to match the way he acted when he was fully human. But that didn’t mean that his heart didn’t skip a beat every time someone shot him a worried glance, every time someone asked if he was alright, every time he caught himself doing something wrong.

He wasn’t human anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he was now, and Vlad seemed to have too much fun emotionally torturing him to give him a straight answer.

“You up for a movie tonight?” Tucker asked, leaning across Danny’s desk.

“Hell yeah,” Sam said. “My house?”

“Oh, you know me too well. What do you think, dude?”

Danny realized that both teens were looking to him for an answer.

He wanted to stay home. Hanging out with either of them meant there was a chance they would see him slip up, and he couldn’t have that.

“Sure.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too pained.

“Perfect!” Tucker clasped a hand down on his shoulder.

Danny tried not to duck away.

“So we’ll go to Sam’s after dinner. I can bring snacks. Anything you want in particular?”

The thought of eating anything was nauseating. “No. I’m fine.”

“Alright, I’ll just bring the usual then.”

But Danny should have known that something was up. After all, it had been a while since they’d done a movie night. And lately, Sam and Tucker had been acting...oddly.

Well, that was nothing new. Danny thought that as time went on, they’d forgive him for being a bit jumpier than usual and everything would go back to normal.

Except, of course, it didn’t.

The past few weeks had been especially hard. It seemed like they constantly had something to say, but never did. The worried glances had only increased, and the silent conversations seemed to only grow.

Danny had been trying his best to act normal, act human, but it seemed like the more he tried, the worse they’d get.

So of course, in between the first movie and second, the elephant in the room finally stomped all over Danny’s metaphorical floor.

“Hey, Danny.” Sam glanced over at Tucker. A moment passed between the two before Sam nodded and turned back to Danny. “We really need to talk to you.”

Dread pooled in his stomach. He knew exactly where this was going. “I can start the next movie if you want?”

“No, Danny. Listen, can you just sit down for a second?”

His ghostly instincts were begging him to run, but his human side forced him to sit down.

“Listen, we know that...well, Jazz told us about the lab accident.”

Danny could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

“She said it was pretty serious? And she was surprised that you hadn’t told us?” Sam fidgeted with her black rings. “We didn’t say anything to you because we wanted you to be the ones to confide in us.”

“That and we didn’t want you to get upset that we were talking to Jazz about you,” Tucker interjected.

“Right, and Jazz only told us because she was worried. And honestly? We’re really worried too.”

Any oxygen left in Danny’s body was sucked out of his throat like a vacuum.

They’d found out. They knew the truth, they knew he was a freak of nature half ghost and they were going to out him, they were going to tell his parents, they’d tell the school counselor, and Danny would have no one and he’d have to run away to become Vlad’s apprentice and he’d change, he’d be corrupted, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

“I’m just wondering why you didn’t say anything?” Sam asked, her violent eyes brimming with concern.

“I…” Danny’s mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. He tried to swallow, but it was like swallowing sand. “I didn’t want you to worry is all.”

“Yeah, and we get that,” Tucker said carefully. “But, I mean, we’re your best friends. And dude, you’ve been...well…”

At Tucker’s helpless glance, Sam took over. “You just have been acting really off lately.”

“Sorry.”

“No!” Sam nearly leapt out of her seat. “Danny, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I mean, hell, if I nearly died in a lab accident I’d be acting off too. It just, you know, it explains a lot. It must have been really terrifying.”

Danny didn’t trust himself to say anything.

How much of his personality had shifted because of Phantom, and how much had shifted because of the accident? Were his ghostly instincts really creeping up that much into his human form?

Would he ever be the same again?

Did they know?

“Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

“We’re all ears, dude.”

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t say a word. Not without outing himself as Phantom, and that was bound to backfire on him in the worst way possible.

Oh god, he was acting too suspicious. He needed to save this.

“I’m good.”

There was a beat of silence.

Sam leaned forward. “Danny...I don’t mean to sound like Jazz, but bottling stuff up isn’t—”

“I’m fine!” Danny snapped. “I didn’t say anything and I’m sorry, but you know it’s not every day like you’re nearly electrocuted to death in your parents’ ghost portal.”

“Is that what happened?” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, Danny.”

“Holy shit,” Tucker agreed.

Danny threw his arms out. “Ta da! I survived, I’m fine. Nothing to talk about.”

“Danny, I—”

“No.” His tone was final. “Drop it, seriously.”

Another beat of silence passed, and then Sam finally sighed. “Fine, but I’m telling you as your friend that if you ever need anything, we’re here for you.”

He wished he could have trusted those words. But he knew they were nothing more than a farce.

It would have been cruel to hold onto false hope.

Still, he tried to smile. “Thanks.”

Even though he knew he hadn’t fooled anyone.

---

Maddie’s POV

Maddie watched her son from across the kitchen table, just as she’d done every night for the past several weeks. Quietly, as inconspicuous as possible, always watching.

Ever since the lab accident, he’d been….different. Jack hadn’t noticed, but to Maddie the changes were far too obvious. The dropped spoons, the flash of green behind his eyes, his limbs losing visibility without him even noticing, their ecto-inventions that always seemed to go off around him.

One day, she even saw him walk through his bedroom door.

At first, she thought it was just a simple case of possession. But there were telltale signs of possession, one’s that Jack, for all his enthusiasm, always failed to take into account.

Sure, Danny’s eyes flashed green every so often, but most of the time they were blue. Human blue.

And then there was his personality. In cases of possession, the ghost would be completely controlling the body. But in Danny’s case, he was still very obviously Danny. Still the sweet boy she always knew him to be, but he was just...different. Jumpier. Scared.

Like he knew he was living a lie.

And then, just a few weeks after Danny’s run in with the portal, a new ghost appeared.

Of course, Maddie didn’t make the connection at first. The ghost was obviously new, and didn’t seem to have a grasp on its powers. Its fighting was laughable, its ectoblasts nearly always missed, and it seemed to constantly forget about its core powers.

Not to mention, its hair was white. Danny had black hair.

But then the ghost gave itself a name: Danny Phantom. And that was when Maddie decided to take a second look at it.

It was Danny’s height and build, its voice sounded similar to Danny’s, it seemed to know all of Danny’s classmates, it used a Fenton thermos, it wore a hazmat suit that looked eerily similar to the ones in their basement closet—not to mention that Danny’s hazmat suit had gone missing recently.

On its own, one small correlation didn’t mean anything. But when the little similarities kept piling up, then Maddie had to draw some sort of conclusion.

Just what was the conclusion though?

The Danny across the table had gone to school like any other human child, he’d eaten his meals like anyone else, he’d hung out with his human friends, he talked with his human family. On paper, he seemed normal.

Human.

But his grades were in a downwards spiral, Jazz had expressed concern about him and his friends, he’d been breaking curfew, and there were times when she’d peak into his room at night to find him gone.

He could have been just experiencing trauma from the accident. Maybe he was rebelling. There were so many explanations for his behavior that didn’t involve ghosts.

But then he’d do something ghostly or a weapon would beep around him or Phantom would fly nearby, and her red flags would be raised once again.

Maddie learned long ago to trust her red flags.

The Danny across the table took a bite of his salad, and his face immediately scrunched up.

Maddie felt sick.

He swallowed, and Maddie could see his eyes watering. “Is there something wrong with the lettuce, Mom?”

She feigned innocence. “Hmm?”

“I don’t know,” he prodded a carrot on his plate. “Something just seems off.”

“Tastes fine to me,” Maddie said. “I just bought this lettuce today. Jazz, is yours okay?”

“Yeah,” she said.

Maddie suppressed a grin. She could always count on her “facts and research only” daughter.

“It could be the dressing? I used a new brand tonight. It’s healthier than the other stuff.”

That, or it was the small amount of blood blossoms she’d blended into the vinaigrette.

“Maybe.”

But it couldn’t end here. She needed to know. She was a scientist, she had to see the experiment through.

“Eat the rest of your salad, honey. I’ll buy the other brand tomorrow, okay?”

Danny carefully put another forkful of salad into his mouth. He gave a small wince, but swallowed.

“Good boy,” she said. “I have fudge in the fridge for when you’re done.”

“Oh, fudge?” Jack exclaimed. He shoveled the rest of his salad into his mouth. With a mouth full of food, he said, “Thanks, Mads! You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome sweetie!”

Jazz made a face. “Gross, Dad.”

Jack laughed and bantered back at his daughter, but Maddie had already tuned out of the conversation. Her only focus was on Danny, whose face was now just too flushed to be healthy. Still, he forced himself to eat.

There was just no question. No doubt about it.

No matter how Maddie looked at it, this was proof enough.

Danny Fenton wasn’t human. The portal hadn’t nearly killed him, it probably did kill him. And now here he was, pretending to still be a part of the family while using Phantom to distract them from the fact that he was a ghost.

It was a truly elaborate ploy. And if Maddie was anyone else, his plans probably would have worked.

But she was Maddie Fenton. She had a PhD in ectobiology. She’d been researching ghosts for twenty years.

Dinner ended, and the children went upstairs to do homework. Although, if Maddie looked, she was sure Danny wouldn’t actually be in his room. And if she went outside, like she’d done in nights past, there was no doubt she’d see Phantom soaring through the skies.

But she knew. She knew. She knew.

She slipped a white business card out of her jacket pocket, grabbed her cell off the counter, went into her bedroom, and dialed the number.

It rang once, then twice, then stopped. A deep voice sounded from the other line. “Maddie Fenton? I figured I’d be hearing back from you. Have you made your decision?”

“Yes.” Her voice was mechanical, as if she’d only called about a malfunctioning weapon. “I have. I agree to the partnership.”

“Excellent. And the terms are to your liking?”

“Yes.”

“Understood. We’ll be in touch tomorrow to sign the official contract. Will your husband be involved in this, or are you working alone?”

Maddie closed her eyes. “The contract will be for my name only.”

“All right, then. We’ll talk tomorrow. You won’t regret this.”

“I know.”

---

#danny phantom #the life cycle of a half ghost #going angst week 2021 #phicc #my writing

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