#He just sends “I need to find me Fraid”

[sydsaint]

ALL MY SOLO SIKOA STANS COME GET YALLS CONTENT! 📣📣📣📣📣📣

Summary: The reader gets settled in with The Bloodline alongside her brother, Sami. Along the way, she learns that a certain Samoan has had his eyes on her for a while now.

"Come on! Just hit him, already, Sikoa!" You shout at Solo from below the ring apron.

Jimmy and Jey shoot you a glance from either side of you, and Sami tugs at your leg to get you to come down to the floor. You hop down to where your brother is waiting and give him an annoyed look.

"Y/N, come on." Sami scolds you. "You aren't helping." He reminds you.

You roll your eyes, annoyed that Sami even made you come out here with him. "You're the one that said I needed to come out and support the team more, Sami." You remind him in an accusing tone. "So here I am, supporting the team. And we both know that Sikoa could have Butch on the mat and begging for mercy in an instant if we wanted to."

"Just be nice, please." Sami sighs and jumps up to join the twins.

You remain on the floor and Jey tags into the match. Solo slips out of the ring and hops down to the floor to recover before he's needed again. You lean on the ring post with your arms crossed and watch him catch his breath.

"You're staring." Solo catches your eyes on him, that usual scowl plastered on his face.

"Just looking out for my team." You reply dryly and avert your gaze for the time being. "Look's like you need to work on your cardio, Sikoa. All out of breath so soon, big man?" You can't help but tease him.

Sikoa stands back up straight, obviously irked by your words. But he chooses instead to hop back up to the ring apron and rejoin his brothers.

A few minutes later a brawl breaks out in the ring and you try your best to stay out of the way. Much to your dismay, Ridge Holland comes around the corner as you are making your retreat.

"Y/N." Ridge locks eyes with you.

"...Ridge." You swallow and take a small step back. "I don't suppose that we could talk this out, could we?" You ask him with a nervous laugh.

Ridge shakes his head and advances on you. "Fraid not, love." He shrugs and begins closing in on you.

You go to turn tail and run for whoever happens to be closest to you at the moment. When you turn around, Solo is just getting done tossing Butch into the barricade.

"Yo, mister enforcer." You hurry forward and slip behind Solo. "It's time to put some of all that muscle to good use." You put a hand on the back of his shoulder and point at Ridge.

Solo nods and uses a hand to push you back a little bit before he lurches forward and tackles Ridge to the ground. You then proceed to watch Solo pick Holland up and backdrop him into the announce table before he stalks back over to you.

"There, happy?" He asks you with a sour expression.

You glance at Ridge now laid out in the rubble of the commentary table and nod. "Yeah...thanks, Solo." You thank him. "What now?"

Solo surveys the area and decides that it be better if you weren't in the way anymore. "Come on, stay close." He barks an order at you and you nod.

Solo muscles his way through the chaotic carnage of people fighting all around you and stops when you get to the top of the ramp.

"Thanks." You thank Sikoa again once you're at the top of the ramp. "I'll be backstage. Go kick thier asses." You send Sikoa back down the ramp to help Sami and his brothers.

You step through the curtain and find Roman waiting with Paul at his side. Roman beckons you over to his side once you're through the curtain so you hurry over to him.

"Where's everyone else?" He stares down at you with judgment in his eyes.

"I didn't want to keep getting in the way." You reply sheepishly and rub your arm. "Sikoa muscled me up the ramp so he wouldn't have to watch my back the whole time." You explain.

Roman nods but doesn't give you a verbal reply. You cough and take your place waiting at his side silently. While you wait you watch the tv monitor and see Solo on poor Ridge Holland again. You know that Sikoa is a pretty violent dude. But this is a bit much, even for him.

Eventually, The Bloodline all file up the ramp and come through the curtain. Sami walks over to make sure that you're alright.

"I'm fine, Sami." You assure him. "Solo got me out of the way before things got heated." You nod to Solo a few feet away talking to Roman and Jey.

Sami glances at Solo and nods. "Yeah, he's definitely in a mood tonight." He chuckles. "I mean did you catch the way he went at Ridge Holland?"

"Yeah..." You nod. "I think that might be my fault." You rub the back of your neck. "Ridge was sort of intending on bothering me before the fight got intense. I ducked behind Solo and sort of asked him to handle it."

"Oh, well, that explains it then." Sami chuckles like you've just answered a question for him.

You furrow your brows at your brother. "Explains what?" You ask him.

"Why Sikoa went off on Ridge," Sami replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Holland was messing around with Solo's girl. Very bad move on his part." He chuckles.

"His girl?" You reply. "Excuse me? Since when?" You shake your head in disbelief.

Sami chuckles again and ruffles your hair affectionately. "Oh, Y/N. My naive little sister." He teases you. "Sikoa's got quite the crush on you."

"He does?" You glance over at Solo still talking with Roman and Jey. "Since when?"

"No clue." Sami shrugs. "I've known for a while now. Why do you think that Madcap Moss stopped talking to you? And Ricochet as well for that matter?" He asks you. "Sikoa's been scaring them all off so he's got you all to himself."

"Has he now?" You turn and stare at Sikoa. "I liked Madcap." You frown.

Roman and Jey break away from Sikoa to talk with Paul and Jimmy. You take your chance and march over to Sikoa to confront him.

"Hey, Solo!" You catch his attention as you march over to him.

Solo turns to you, his scowl a bit softer than it usually is. "Holland won't be bothering you again anytime soon, that's for sure." He informs you.

"Yeah, him and any other man that dares speak to me." You mumble. "Is it true what Sami just told me? You've been running off guys I'm talking to without my knowledge?" You confront Sikoa.

Solo nods casually. "Yeah, so?" He replies with a shrug. "You ain't need to be talking to any other man but me, girl." He informs you. "And we both know that you're into me. So what's the issue?"

"Excuse me?" You reply in shock. "What's the issue?" You repeat him. "Last time I checked, you've never even asked me out on a date." You remind him.

Solo doesn't reply at first, but you can tell that he's got some kind of idea brewing. After a few seconds of you waiting for a reply, Sikoa shrugs and puts a hand on your shoulder to orient you towards the door.

"What are you doing?" You ask, digging your heels into the floor to stop Sikoa from moving you.

"You want to go on a date so bad?" Sikoa replies casually. "Come on then, get a move on girl." He pushes you towards the door. "Yo, Roman! I'll catch you all later, man. Y/N and me gonna be busy for the rest of the night!"

You try and protest but Sikoa has you out the door and heading for the garage before you can get a word out. You can hear Roman and what sounds like Sami both laugh as you are dragged off.

#solo sikoa #wwe fandom #wwe smackdown #wwe fanfiction #wwe nxt #the bloodline #sami zayn #wwe x reader #wwe x you #wrestling #wwe

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Ghosts of Our Pasts: 9

DP x DC Crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne Siblings AU

Ao3

Masterpost Previous Next

Dani: Yo, what's with the massive group chat I just got dropped into?

Dani: I'm assuming you guys have to do with this

Tucker: ....did... did we forget to send you Danny’s new number? 

Dani: he has a NEW one? I just swapped his contact information like 2 weeks ago 

Tucker: it's actually the same number just backwards... present from the Backwards Day Ghost 

Dani: WOW

Tucker: it was miserable 

Dani: I'm sure

Dani: so about the group chat?

Tucker: Danny met his bio-sibling and he had a fraid too, so idk its like fraid inlaws or something? 

Dani: Bio-sibling? Danny's adopted? 

Tucker:Shouldn't you know this?

Dani: Why would I?

Tucker: You're his cousin....

Dani: Oh... I forgot I told you guys that...  

Tucker: ?

Dani: I'm his clone

Tucker: this is gonna be a wild story isn't it

* Dani started a call that lasted 31 minutes *

---

Jazz: Danny why did you just put me in a group chat with like 25 people in it?

Danny: Sibling groupchat 

Jazz: What? 

Jazz: Danny, I'm going to need a bit more explanation than that. 

Jazz: you didn't get cloned again?

Jazz: Did you???

Jazz: Danny?

* 1 missed call from Jazz *

* 2 missed calls from Jazz *

* 3 missed calls from Jazz *

---

Jazz: please tell me Danny lost his phone again and isn't in some kind of trouble. 

Tucker: Oh, it's in his bag... he's out rn...

Jazz: out where?

Jazz: I thought this was supposed to be a 'laying low' vacation? 

Sam: that was before he met his brother 

Jazz: his brother? 

Tucker: yeah! Apparently he's related to the Batman!

Jazz: you left him alone with his brother 

Sam: Yeah...?

Jazz: the brother that killed him?

* multiple people are typing *

---

So yeah, Danny was officially tasting emotions now. He realized as Damian looked him over. The flour-y taste of concern was replaced with a salty-savory pride as he confirmed that, no, Danny hadn't been shot. (Well, he would've been, if he hadn't decided to not be tangible.) Then Bio-dad dropped down, mugger dude gave off another milk-sour wave of fear. Then Bio-dad saw the gun and huh, he didn't think describe how disappointment tasted with human words. But maybe he should be focusing less on what flavors most accurately described his stupid new empath ability and focus more on the situation at hand.

Together Dami and Bio-dad explained the normal process of cuffing criminals in obvious places so the police can find them. It was simple, didn't really require Danny to do anything, so he disassembled the weapon while he listened. Which he probably shouldn't have done, because now he was being asked to hand it over as evidence...

"Uh..." Danny fished the larger pieces back out of his pocket, but their was a lot of little ones, because he might've phased the screws out to take apart the fun little inner bits and he ended up dropping tiny metal parts all over the sidewalk. 

There was a beat of silence, then Damian clicked his tongue with a little "Tt," and Danny flushed. 

"Sorry..." Danny started.

"It's fine," the Bat said. Amusement, it turned out, tasted like raspberries.

-

-

-

Notes

Danny, holding a deadly weapon: "is this a fidget toy?"

Somebody told me once that they didn't see any Canon evidence that Sam and Tucker knew Dani was a clone. And like, their lives are so crazy that peice of information falling into a crack, sure. Where did Danny's concerned about vlad cloning people came from. Like they didn't question it, vlad is weird. They could see him doing it... oh... he did do it? That makes more sense than a sudden semi rational fear.

Also Batman has absolutely noticed some weird things about Danny. But he also knows that Danny has "a weird conglomeration" of Lazarus put side effects, and that Danny said "mood" about being in other dimensions. It might be ooc for him to be patient with answers, but he's in my story so he's gotta play by my rules.

Tag list

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[letsstaytuned]

💭 !

Send 💭 to see one of my muse’s earliest memories or a flashback to a pivotal moment in their life!

"FUUUUCK!" he yelled even though he hadn't meant to be that loud. Not while he was attempting to bury a human body at dusk in the swamp.

To be fair, he had just been shot in the leg though.

He rolled over so he was sitting upright, taking a look at the gunshot wound in his upper thigh. It was bad, really bad. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to walk.

Fortunately, he had a lot of supplies out with him so he hurriedly started going through his bag trying to find rags to bandage himself up, praying that whoever shot him hadn't heard him and wouldn't be checking.

No such luck.

"Well, sheeeet," a heavy set hunter approached him, carrying a rifle. "Thought you was a deer."

A deer? That was fucking laughable. He was no prey animal.

But he was in no position to be rude to the man with the gun at the moment, especially when next to him was a bag with parts of a body in it.

"Oh, well, accidents happen, haha!" the injured man replied, forcing a laugh. "I was just out here burying my dog, he died recently, very tragic."

"Huh," the man said looking over at the hole that was already dug. "That 'splains the hole then."

"Awfully convenient though there bein' a hole out here an' you injured and me with a prior conviction. Can't exactly say I wanna go back to prison," the hunter said, pulling up his rifle.

"Wait, there's no need for that! I'm not going to report this. It was an accident! No need for anyone to get into trouble," the injured man smiled widely though his eyes looked nervous.

"Is it money you want? I have money," the injured man said, hating that he was bargaining with this low life asshole but he was doing what he had to do.

"'Fraid not. It's nothin' personal, fella," the hunter said as the injured man reached into his bag and grabbed a knife, prepared to try to defend himself.

But before he had a chance to do anything a shot ran through the swamp and he fell backwards, a bullet through his right eye.

The hunter approached him and followed up with a shot in the forehead, making sure his prey was down for the count.

And then there was nothing but darkness.

#candyredhzbins #letsstaytuned alastor headcanon

[not-orphaned-account]

Yo

Here’s an unfinished work that I’ve not been able to figure out an ending for but still wanted to share somewhere. It’s not edited or beta’d or anything, just some brain soup I wanted to unleash on the internet.

Featuring a story of Matt and Mello, through the eyes of everybody else.

CW for implied homophobia, some blood

Enjoy?

. . .

There are whispers—how could there not be, when this boy, fresh faced but for the scowl and the weight in his eyes, is suddenly in their midst?

‘Boy’ is the right word, because though he gives a backstory of exactly twenty-one years, no one is disillusioned; though, they can’t seem to come to a consensus about his real age. Someone says he must be eighteen, for Ross to allow half the shit the kid gets up to; someone else swears up and down he’s barely fifteen, with his boyish face and whiny voice.

Either way, no one questions it. Not only because Ross wouldn’t stand for questions, but because the kid himself is…kind of terrifying.

Mello, he says his name is, and no one questions it. No one questions him on anything, really. Those who do are quickly silenced, one way or the other.

As time passes and he gets more comfortable as Ross’s lapdog, some joke that he’s ‘growing up’ in the mafia, like some sort of bastard child. The ones who don’t are the ones who have worked closer with him, who have really seen him: the cold stare that no one can read; the way he speaks when discussing all manner of dark and criminal topics, which are new to none of them, but still sends shivers up their spines seeing this kid sentencing men to their deaths with the tone of a bored teenager. The way his face contorts with rage, twisting into a monstrous snarl.

The ones who have seen that aren’t usually ones who make it out of Ross’s office unscathed.

Soon, the joke peters out. Mello climbs, and climbs, and keeps climbing until he’s got more of the men under his thumb than Ross, even if none of them would admit it. Mello is scary, Mello is ruthless, but he’s damn good at what he does.

 -

  No one notices the guy when he first steps in. Maybe one or two of them glance his way, but he practically blends into the wall, and they’re more preoccupied with beating the information out of this bastard that Mello tracked down seemingly out of nowhere. He stands in the shadows, watching the scene through tinted goggles that reflect the dim warehouse lighting and obscure his eyes. He’s kind of creepy, but between Mello’s interrogation and the man tied to the chair screaming for mercy, he goes fairly unnoticed.

That is, until the informant cracks, and Mello nods to one of the men with his gun out. He looks away just before the gunshot sounds. And if anyone were watching his expression, they could see his eyes widen ever so slightly as the blood splatters his shoes.

Anyone following his gaze to the back of the room would realize that it’s not the blood that has him shaken.

Mello stays behind when the rest of them start to file out, barking an order to take the body with them. A few of them catch the slight shake in his voice, but say nothing.

The creepy guy stays at the back of the room, unmoving.

When the door closes, two of the rookies share a glance and lag behind the rest, curious and too new to the job to know better when it comes to Mello. They stand by the door, and soon enough hear Mello shouting, but the other side of the conversation is nothing but low, muffled tones.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing here.”

“...”

“Don’t you dare pull that shit with me. How did you find me?”

“...”

“It was Near, wasn’t it?”

One of the rookies, impatient and burning with questions, presses his ear to the door to hear better. The other glances around nervously, staying where he is.

“ —is what you’ve been doing, huh? I didn’t believe him at first, but honestly, it tracks.”

“You need to leave. Now.”

“Nope.”

“...what did you just say to me?”

“I said, nope. Leaving’s your job. ‘Fraid you’re stuck with me for now, Mells.”

“I could kill you.”

“I know.”

The rookie flinches, but a gunshot never comes.

“...you’re a real bastard.”

“I know that too. So, you gonna show me where you’re staying?”

They don’t stick around after that, scampering off to join the rest of the group. They’re new to all this, but not new enough to know that they don’t want to be around when Mello opens that door.

 -

  His name is Matt. He doesn’t introduce himself like Mello did; rather, Mello introduces him, though not directly. He doesn’t talk to any of the others, but Mello calls Matt when he needs a hand, or backup, or something tech-y, and the guy responds to it.

Where Mello is confusing in a fearful way, Matt is just…confusing. He’s quiet, reserved; he avoids speaking when anyone else is in the room, though when he does talk, his voice is low and monotone. He sounds bored more often than not which, given their profession, is rather rare. He smokes inside, plays video games, and tinkers with anything with wires or a screen.

A few of the guys try to boss him around. Mello shuts them down immediately.

When he’s not working, he disappears. Some of them theorize about where he goes; maybe he has a place of his own near the base. Maybe he’s homeless. Maybe he sleeps in the rafters.

It’s all jokes, because nobody is going to acknowledge how he’s been seen entering and leaving Mello’s suite regularly enough for it to be obvious. 

Nobody is allowed in Mello’s suite.

The guys that give Mello the benefit of the doubt say that he’s sleeping on the lounger in the living area. The guys who know better don’t say anything.

There have been whispers, because there always are. The way Mello dresses, the level of secrecy he holds himself with, the way his shoulders raise and his knuckles clench when the bawdier guys crow about their lays. The ones who give him the benefit of the doubt have explanations for it all: his clothes just add to his intimidation. Of course he’s secretive, he’s mafia. And, the guy’s still practically a kid—even with the years that have passed, he can’t be older than twenty. Maybe he’s a late bloomer.

The ones who know better keep their mouths shut.

Mello changes in a way that none of them, of either opinion, want to acknowledge. He’s protective of Matt in a way that no one’s seen from him before, even though it’s soon made apparent that Matt doesn’t need protecting. He’s there for backup—as he always is nowadays—with two others while Mello meets with a possible lead. The man pulls a gun when Mello’s back is turned, and before anyone else can react, there’s a crack of a gunshot and he reels back, blood spurting from his neck, before collapsing to the floor.

All eyes turn to Matt, his blank expression, and the gun still drawn raised in his left hand.

Mello is pale and wide-eyed, looking at Matt, then the man on the floor gurgling on his own blood, then back to Matt again. The room is deathly still.

He turns on his heel and leaves without a word, Matt following close behind, and the other two guards hurrying to catch up.

No one talks about the shouting they hear from Mello’s suite that night.

 -

  They’re not very subtle. Multiple times, they’re seen jerking apart when someone walks into a room, fixing hair and clothes and expressions. Matt starts wearing a high-necked vest. Mello’s been known to leave concealer in the bathroom, poorly hidden under the sink.

It’s a dangerous game they’re playing, with the profession they’re in. Though, perhaps more dangerous is what Mello might do to anyone who brings attention to it, so eyes stay averted and mouths stay shut.

Mello seems almost…happy. Sure, he’s still cold and harsh and generally unapproachable, but around Matt, something about him seems to soften. Matt levels him out, and everyone is grateful for it.

 -

  Almost nobody survives the explosion.

A few of the guards posted outside stumble away from the rubble. No one bothers going into the fire to check for bodies.

A car engine roars, and a red Camaro skids to a rubber-burning halt in front of the carnage. The few who made it out see Matt practically fall out of the driver’s side and stumbling over to the flames.

It’s the first time that any of them hear Matt scream.

He bellows Mello’s name and, before anyone can stop him, barrels into the wreckage.

Some of them pass out from their injuries. Sirens blare in the distance.

Only one man is conscious to see Matt emerging from the blaze, holding someone in his arms. He’s coughing, stumbling on debris, mumbling in hurried words. You’re gonna be okay, c’mon, stay awake for me, I’ve got you, fuck Mello, you fucking idiot, how could you do this—

He bundles Mello’s limp body into the backseat and speeds away, leaving nothing but tire marks and a burned glove in his wake.

The man passes out soon after, as well.

It’s the last time that any of them see Mello or Matt again.

 - 

The receptionist at the cheap, mid-nowhere motel is half asleep when the bell jingles cheerfully. She doesn’t bother trying to look awake or friendly, merely blinking the sleep from her eyes enough to do her job.

Upon taking in the appearance of the customer, however, she suddenly feels a lot more awake. The guy looks haggard, pale and unkempt and with a look on his face that makes her uneasy. She can see the shadows under his eyes even through his tinted goggles; he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

For a moment, she wonders if she should be afraid; however, the guy just slumps to the counter and pulls out his wallet. His voice is soft and slightly hoarse, but he’s polite when he asks for a room, and even gives a small smile when she hands over the key.

Maybe it’s how tired she is, but she can swear she sees someone sitting in the front seat with their face covered in bandages.

She’s not paid enough to deal with this. She puts her head back down on the desk and goes back to sleep.

#death note fanfiction #mellodramattic #matt/mello #oneshot #1k

[docleonidas]

Security Breach: Aftermath

Part 9

As Roxy and Monty hurried down the stairs next to Glamrock gifts, they could see the last of the workers heading out of the front door for the evening, a couple glancing at the kid and animatronics, though one gave a wave to Roxy as they left. Roxy put on a smile, acting like everything was normal as they passed, heading left towards the parking garage.

The lobby music instantly cut off as the small group entered the short tunnel leading to parking. The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed as they hurried into the empty garage, save for a few S.T.A.F.F. bots running around.

"Kid, you better not be pulling a fast one." Monty warned, glancing up at Gregory. Gregory just pointed, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "Freddy's over there, behind the pillar." The boy answered, pointing to a support strut in a corner of the garage. It was dark, the lights nearby dim, and of the patrolling bots, none went to that location.

Roxy peered into the dark, Monty watching as the wolf's eye upgrades kicked in, studying whatever she saw before she gasped, holding a hand over her muzzle. "Freddy! Monty, I think it is him." Roxy admitted, using the light from her eyes to navigate around the pillar and approach the slumped figure. The gator circled around after her, setting Gregory down next to the clothed figure, who tilted his head, glancing up.

"W...w...well done s...s...superstarrrrrr." The boy nodded, slipping the large hood off of Freddy's head, showing cracks and damage over his face. He was missing his left ear, and his left eye was dim and no longer working. "Rrrroxannnne, monttty, it is g....g...good to see you arrrrrre both alrighighight." The bear smiled as best he could, twitching every now and then as his voice stuttered and jumped.

"Please, I tried to keep him charged, but he shuts down faster and faster." Gregory begged the two robots. "I don't know how to fix him properly. "

Roxanne and Monty glanced at each other before Roxanne crouched down, trying to smile at the clearly upset kid. "Freddy is our friend Gregory, of course we'll help him. But it's going to take both of us to lug him to parts and services, and the three of us are too heavy to take an elevator together, so we'll be going the long way." She explained as Monty started helping Freddy up, straining to lift the bulky bear.

"We need you to go to the medical office and ask the doctor to meet us there. He's the only person in the building who can repair Freddy right now." Roxy said, shouldering Freddy as Monty did the same on the other side.

Monty interrupted, causing Roxy to snarl in annoyance. "Kid, I added yer faz watch to my contact list, so if ya get lost, ya can ping me and we can give ya directions. Usually there's an option to call me too, but while big bear here is being moved, fraid I can't do more than that. ".

Roxy blinked for a moment. "Monty, when did you start using your brain instead of smashing stuff?" She asked genuinely shocked, before sending a message to Gregory herself. The notification ringing as she did the same.

"Alright Gregory, if you follow us to the fountain outside daycare, the northern route leads to the new medical center, and where you can find the Doctor. He's pretty friendly, but if he doesn't believe you, we can confirm your story over the faz watch, alright?" Roxanne asked as Freddy twitched. "Gggggood luck sssssupers...s..s...s..." his head flopped forwards again as his wiring shorted, making Monty and Roxy start moving.

"Alright kid, we'll be quick, you should hurry too. Oh, and drink this." Monty said, handing Gregory a can of fizzy faz with the gators image on it. "Should keep you awake till we meet ya there." The gator said with a wry chuckle.

As the group of robotic bandmates trudged down the corridor, Gregory chugged the fizzy faz, wincing a little at the sour lime flavor, and he quickly tossed the can, heading back into the lobby. It wasn't too hard to avoid the security bots, and they quickly climbed the escalator and made their way into the Daycare Hall.

Monty glanced back at the kid following behind, seeing he'd pulled out the camera again and was fiddling with the button almost absentmindedly. "Almost there lil guy." He said. "Less talking, more carrying Monty." Grunted Roxy as she wobbled a bit. "This loser weighs a ton."

As the shutter lifted, Gregory peered around, having not visited here before. Monty and Roxy barreled past, heading for a set of stairs with a sign directing towards the atrium. "Don't be too long kid, I still have plans for tonight, and I don't feel like playing nurse." Roxy called as the three vanished out of sight.

Gregory let out a heavy breath, the tension starting to fade a little as the worries of either Roxy or Monty pouncing on him faded as their heavy footsteps got further away. Still, he couldn't just sit here when Freddy needed him. He glanced up at the Medical center's neon sign before walking through the double doors into the freshly painted waiting room beyond.

A quick glance behind the counter was enough to let him know that there was no receptionist this late at night, the clock ticking quietly on the wall reading 10:37pm. Gregory adjusted his backpack, heading for the first of the rooms, the one reading *ward* and he eased the door open, eyes darting around.

The room was set up in a way that one side was lined with various medical supplies, though most of the bottles and drawers had labels Gregory wasn't even going to try say, let alone figure out what they did. Around a half dozen beds were spread around the remainder of the room, each decorated with a various member of the band, or popular figure, like Foxy, or Bonnie. A few had curtains around them, but a quick tug was all it took to confirm no-one was in here.

Still, there was obviously no doctor in here, so Gregory headed back to open the door back into the waiting room, when it was opened from the other side. A large figure filled the door frame, and Gregory reflexively pressed the camera button, making the unknown robot blink and stumble in surprise.

The boy rushed past, just squeezing by as the figure stumbled backwards, rubbing it's face. Though he could tell it was wearing a lab coat, he wasn't about to let himself get cornered if he had a choice in the matter, the boy quickly stopping in front of the main entrance and facing the new robot, getting a good look as he swapped the camera for what looked to be some sort of laser gun, the words *FazBlaster* written on the side.

"Are you the Doctor? Yes or no?" Gregory demanded as the large lion like robot rubbed his eyes as his vision slowly returned, greeted with the sight of another weapon aimed at him. "Yes....I am. Is there some reason you're attacking me young man?" The Doctor asked, the tone of his voice sounding both confused and highly displeased.

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#fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf sb au #roxy security breach #monty gator #montgomery gator #gregory security breach #fnaf freddy

[a-simple-imagine]

Return to Hogwarts

synopsis: you return to hogwarts after everything and it’s changed a lot

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

words: 1k+

A/N - this is not finished. rip. it was supposed to have more draco in the future.

PREV //

You knock a few times before twisting the handle. Draco is sitting on his bed, staring out the large bay window. You were now both in a rather similar situation only Draco's was worse. He had a special relationship with the dark lord. He was expected to have more of an active role while you weren't. You sit down beside him. "Uhm... hey." He didn't respond. "Your mother suggested I come check on you before I go back."

"They're actually sending you back?"

You nod a little. "My parents think it's best I go back. It's their way of keeping me out of everything, I guess."

"Lucky you," Draco grumbles.

"You aren't coming too?" His head shakes. Your hand falls to rest on his shoulder. You don't know what to say to make it better. "Draco... I just wanted to say-"

"You don't have to," he shakes you off.

"but I want to..." You sigh softly. "I'm just... sorry."

"You don't have to be- It's not your fault."

"I know but I feel like I should have helped or something, y'know." Standing up, you head for the door. "Maybe you should just come back to Hogwarts. It's not good for you being here especially after... everything."

Closing the door as you leave, you fall back against it. The boy in the room has a worry in his mind. You'd drag him to the train if you could but his parent would not be too thrilled nor would the dark lord and you'd rather stay on his good side. So you leave him be.

With everything going on things both felt different and normal. Voldemort had more power and that was unmistakable but today, your parents took you to platform nine and three quarters like it was any other day. The atmosphere was noticeably different; everyone was quieter. Less pep in their step. Turning to your parents you offer an almost sad smile. "What's gonna happen?"

Your mother places her hands on either side of your face, a gentle kiss against your forehead. "You don't worry about that. You just focus on your studies, alright."

"But-"

"Listen to your mother," Your father interrupts.

"Fine," You fold your arms over your chest. "but how come Draco doesn't have to come back?"

"He's... needed." Your father states in a way that makes sure you don't answer back.

"So I'm just not as important?"

"You're very important to us," Your mother insists. "Now go before the train leaves without you."

"I'm going, 'm going," You smile a little brighter, hugging her and then your father before getting on the train. Without Draco, you decide you should go find Hermione and friends. They had to be around here somewhere. Walking the length of the Train you finally come across a Weasley. Ginny is sat at a table across from Neville.

"Your brother about?" You ask

"'fraid not." she looks to you, sliding over in her seat. "They're not coming back this year?"

You knew she meant all three of them. Harry, Hermione and Ron. "Can I seat?"

You take up space beside her, offering Neville a smile. "You reckon things will be different after..." you drop your gaze to the table.

"I heard Snape's taken over as Headmaster." Neville states

"Snape? I would have expected McGonagall of all people to step up." You reply

"I don't think she had much of a choice in the matter," Ginny shrugs. You sink a little further down in your seat, guilt settling low in your stomach.

"It might not be as bad as we think,"

They both give you a look. "Fine, it's gonna be worse. Snape hates me,"

"Snape hates all kids." Neville protests. You laugh a little

"Funny choice of job all things considered." You comment. "Has the trolley witch been past? I'm starving."

"Don't think she's around anymore," Neville shrugs.

"Here," Ginny hands you some tinfoil. "my mum made them."

"What is it?" You wonder, taking the package.

"a sandwich,"

You smile a little. "you sure you don't want it?"

"I'm fine. I'll hold off for the feast,"

"Thanks, Weasley."

The three of you fall into a comfortable conversation around the train table. The screech of the train slowing fills your ears and you glance out the window. smoky figures of black whoosh past the windows. You sit up a little straighter; this didn't look good. The door to the carriage slides open sharply and all the students fall quiet. It was clear what they wanted; why else stop a train full of students. Neville stands up and calls them out, insisting Harry isn't around which he wasn't. You lock eyes with the death eater and sink further down.

Returning to Hogwarts was like stepping into a different world entirely. Snape definitely had his own idea of how to run the school. He was firmer. Stricter. He sucked the fun out of being at a school of magic. Started from the feast to now. You kind of wished you hadn't come back but staying home may have been worse.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," You growl as you stumble through the door into the room of requirement. You'd go back to the common room but it was always easier here.

"What happened?"

"Carrows." Your arm was definitely broken. "Fuck-"

"Do you want me to fix it?" Luna suggests. You nod quickly.

The pain spilling through your arm was intense and unending. Luna pulls out her wand. "Brackium Emendo," You let out a muffled scream as your bone mends itself. Your bone may be fixed but it still ached and your elbow looked bruised. Using the bandage charm, Luna supports your arm. "There you go,"

Ginny sits down beside you. "So what'd you do?"

"Sneaking around the castle apparently," You shrug, letting your head fall to her shoulder. "I'm so tired of being here. This is like the fifth time Luna has had to heal me."

"If you stopped doing bad things, you wouldn't have that problem." Ginny teases.

"Says you,"

You and Ginny had grown awfully close since coming back perhaps it was over lost loves in the literal sense. You still had friends in Hufflepuff but you spent more time in the room of requirement than you did the Hufflepuff common room.

"What's up with you- other than the usual."

"Just been thinking a lot,"

"About?" She wonders.

"Draco."

"Draco?" Ginny seemed confused.

You nod a little. "I miss him."

"You miss... Draco?"

...

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #Harry Potter

[littlegnoblin]

Happy Valentine’s Day to my best friend and other half @donestiel

read on ao3

Dean comes home from work to find Cas and Jack sitting at the table, red heart-shaped lollipops strewn in front of them. 

He gives Cas a quick kiss. “You trying to give the kid a sugar rush or what?” 

“Daddy! It’s for Valemtime’s Day!” Jack yells excitedly, hopping off his chair to hug Dean’s legs.  

“It’s pronounced valentine, Jack.”

“I don’t know, valemtime kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean says. Jack beams up at him and he can’t help but ruffle his hair. 

“Yes, well, the holiday has become so bastardized that I suppose renaming it wouldn’t hurt.” Cas squints at the box the candy came in. “Does no one find it odd that their children are passing around cards demanding others belong to them?”

Dean sits down and pulls Jack into his lap, flipping through the little pink cards. “I don’t know that you’re supposed to think about it that hard, dude.” He comes across a card that reads ‘kiss me’ and holds it up. “This, on the other hand-- they’re five, what the hell do they need to be kissin’ for?”

“I want kisses!” Jack protests. 

“You’re a little kiss monster.” Cas leans in and presses a big, exaggerated smooch to Jack’s cheek. “How was that? Did it satisfy the beast?”

Jack giggles and nods enthusiastically. 

“Hey, I’m gonna need to sample one of those kisses myself. Make sure they’re regulation-- standard procedure.”

“Is that right?”

“‘Fraid so,” Dean says with a shit eating grin. 

He’s expecting a goofy kiss like the one he gave Jack but Cas uses his thumb to tilt Dean’s chin just so and kisses him deeply. 

They break apart when two tiny hands push at their faces and Jack tells them to knock it off. 

“This is what Valentine’s Day is all about, champ. Besides, I thought you liked kisses.”

“You guys do it gross.” 

Dean smiles and bounces his eyebrows at Cas, who rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small curl of his mouth. 

“Perhaps your father will help you write your classmates’ names on the cards while I get dinner ready.”

“I can cook,” Dean says quickly. The thought of Cas’ last attempt at cooking has his stomach churning and he’s pretty sure feeding that toxic waste to Jack would be considered child abuse. 

Cas holds up a cardboard box. “It’s frozen pizza.”

“Alright, I’ll do babysitting duty. Just make sure you take the plastic off this time.”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your own child and that was one time.”

“One time too many,” Dean mutters.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, dear.”

Cas glares at him. “I expect you to eat a healthy portion of salad along with your pizza tonight.”

“You making it yourself or is it bagged?”

The glare intensifies. 

Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy, did you like doing valentine’s stuff in school?”

“Nah, it, uh-- it wasn’t really a thing when I was your age.” 

That’s a blatant lie but Dean’s not going to tell him the truth and bum him out. What five year old wants to hear that their dad didn’t do Valentine’s Day exchanges because there was barely enough money for food, let alone candy, and he never really stuck around any school long enough to get included in the holiday stuff. Shit’s depressing. 

“So you never got no cards or nothin’?”

“Nope.” Dean never got cards but he did get invited under the bleachers a few times in high school to unwrap a different kind of present. He’s not telling him that either, though. 

“That sucks. Can I have a lollipop?”

“Nice try, kid.” Dean taps on the card in front of them. “Get to writing.” 

He oversees the careful labelling of the cards, reminding Jack to double check the list of names anytime he spells something wrong and corrects a few backwards letters. They debate who gets what card and Jack complains that he has to give one to Tom who keeps cutting him in line. 

Cas rejoins them in the middle of Jack’s impassioned rant, hiding his smile behind his hand. 

“While I agree that Tom is a-- what was it you called him?”

“A butthead.”

“Yes, right, a butthead. While I agree he is a butthead, unfortunately I think you need to be the bigger person. Maybe this will even convince him to stop cutting in line and you two can be friends.”

“No way. I don’t wanna be friends with Tom.”

“You never know,” Dean says. “I didn’t like your dad when we first met, but I think he’s a pretty okay guy now.”

Jack looks at him wide eyed. “You didn’t like Daddy?”

“No way, he was a butthead.”

“It was more of a misunderstanding,” Cas explains. 

“Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

Cas lifts an eyebrow and stares him down. “What would you call it, Dean?” 

Shit, that should not be so hot. 

“Not the point; the point is that I didn’t think I would ever like your dad and now we’re married. Things change.”

Jack furrows his brows, considering. “I don’t want to marry Tom.”

Dean snorts. “You don’t have to. In fact, please don’t. His mom is a nightmare.” Cas kicks him under the table. “What! She is!”

“You don’t have to marry him and you don’t have to be friends with him,” Cas says, ignoring Dean completely, “but you do have to give him a card and some candy.” 

Jack grumbles but does as he’s told. Dean’s legs are starting to fall asleep but he’s become increasingly aware of how fast Jack is growing up and soon-- way too fucking soon, if you ask him-- he won’t be sitting in his lap at all so he silently resigns to not feeling his legs for the next ten minutes. 

“All done!” Jack yells and throws his hands in the air. 

“Sweet, now let's stick some candy in these bad boys and call it a night.”

“Wait, there’s a extra, what should I do with it?”

“Is there anyone who’s not in your class that you’d like to give a valentine to?”

Jack gasps and slaps a hand over Dean’s eyes, nearly poking one out in the process. “Close your eyes, Daddy!”

Dean dutifully closes his eyes until Jack tells him he’s finished. He slowly opens one eye and sees the pink card held about an inch from his face.

“For me?” he gasps dramatically.

“Yes!”

The front of the card reads ‘You’re the best!’ and when he opens it, he finds ‘Daddy’ written in some of the neatest handwriting from Jack he’s ever seen. Beneath it he’s signed his name, the K backwards like it always is on his first try. 

“I gave it to you because you never had one before and also you’re the best daddy ever, who makes me yummy chocolate chip pancakes and cheeseburgers and does funny voices for bedtime stories,” Jack explains. 

Dean wraps his arms around his son and rests his cheek on top of his head, his heart feeling fit to burst. “Thank you, Jack. I’m gonna keep this forever.” And he means it. 

“Welcome. Can I have a lollipop now?”

Cas points at Dean. “He gets that from you.”

 After the valentines are carefully put away and they’ve had dinner (plastic free and edible, which Cas seems proud of), Jack gets a bath and is tucked in bed. Dean and Cas spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Doctor Sexy and drinking beer. Party city. 

When the Doctor Sexy reruns switch to Jeopardy, Dean knows it’s officially midnight. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.” 

They tip their bottles together. 

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not planning anything,” Cas says, picking at the label on his beer. 

“What? No, of course not. We never do anything. I thought we were on the same page about avoiding that shit after our first Valentine’s together.”

They both shudder thinking about the sweaty cupid ‘handshake’. 

“We are, but we never actually discussed it and I…” Cas pauses and tilts his head. “I think having Jack around and seeing the world through his eyes, experiencing things in a new way, it makes me wonder if we’re not missing out on some of the little things.”

“Hey, we appreciate lots of the little things-- like you not cooking frozen pizza with the plastic still on.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, okay. So you sayin’ you wanna celebrate now?”

“Sam and Eileen do.”

“Sam and Eileen are saps. And they don’t have a five year old running around.” 

Cas makes a sound of agreement and softly strokes the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You make a fair point. In all honesty, I don’t want to do anything extravagant but I would like to take the opportunity to remind you how much I love you. Am I allowed to be sappy for a moment?”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess you deserve one day to get it all out.” He puts their bottles down and faces his husband. “Lay it on me, big guy.”

Instead of looking annoyed, Cas just looks fond. “You know, it’s ironic that a man as full of love as you are is so quick to dismiss any sentimentality. You are a fascinating creature.” A thumb sweeps under his eye where he’s got permanent dark circles and settles at the corner where his lines get deeper every day. It makes Dean want to squirm but he holds still under the reverent touch. “Perhaps that’s why I never stood a chance.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says, dropping his eyes to the couch. 

“Hush, I’m allowed, I’ll have you know. My husband gave me explicit permission.”

“Well, your husband is thinking about rescinding the offer.”

“I love you.” 

Cas says it with such conviction that Dean can’t help but look back at him, at his bright eyes and soft smile; at the evidence of his love written all over his face. 

“I love you, endlessly, Dean Winchester. For everything that you are; the good and the bad. From the moment I saw your soul in hell, so bright it was almost blinding, I knew I would never be the same. You breathed life into me, gave me meaning and purpose, taught me the value of love, and you did it all, selflessly, simply by being the man that you are.” Cas draws him close, presses their foreheads together. “I can never give back all that you’ve given me but I promise you will have my love until we are nothing but a forgotten memory, and longer still.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and they breath together in the small space between them. 

“You can’t-- you can’t just say shit like that,” he whispers. 

“And why not?”

“Because it’s not true, first of all.” Cas opens his mouth to argue but Dean covers it with his hand and hurries on. “You’ve already given all of that back and more. God, Cas, if it weren’t for you I’d have been dead years ago. I needed to stick around-- to take care of Sammy, to stop whatever or whoever was trying to end the world next-- but you… you made me want to live. Really live, not just survive, you know? I fuckin’ love you, man.”

Cas pushes Dean’s hand away and presses his lips against Dean’s fervently. 

When they finally break apart for desperately needed air, they both pretend they aren’t sniffling like little girls. 

“You happy now? Can we go back to not doing this?”

Cas laughs. “I hadn’t planned on making it quite so emotional, I apologize. You always bring out the most in me.”

“Ugh, enough,” Dean groans, shoving Cas’ smiling face away. “You aren’t allowed to say anything even approaching romantic for the next twenty four hours, capiche?”

“I can agree to that, as long as I’m allowed to give you a gift later.”

“I thought you said you didn’t plan anything?”

“It’s nothing big.” Cas’ fingers sneak under Dean’s shirt and trail along his stomach, dipping to his waistband. “I just happened to walk by Victoria’s Secret and see a pair of pink satin panties in the window.”

Dean’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Not gonna lie, that seems more like a present for you.”

Cas hums and leans over Dean, forcing him to lie back on the couch. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to do whatever you want while you wear them.”

When he kisses him he tastes like cherry candy and Dean thinks could learn to like this holiday. 

#spn #destiel #deancas #bend-me-shape-me #sweatercas #rambleoncas #acklesy #alivedean #userpris #usersila #goodthingsclara #shelikestv #hope you guys dont mind me tagging you!!! #sarah writes

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Two: Where the Heart Is

a/n: Thank you so much for all of the love you have shown to part one! I’m so glad to see that you’re enjoying YBMH so far, the story is just getting started. I hope you’ll stick around for the full thing, so without further ado, here’s chapter two! As always, my inbox is open so feel free to come chat with me when you have finished this part :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use

Word Count: 5.1k

read part one here

The phone screen flickers to life at the touch of Harry’s finger, flashing the exact same time that it had the last time he checked, though it feels like hours have passed since then. He sighs at the disappointing revelation and turns his phone over so that the screen meets the aged wood of the piano where it rests. In all honesty, Harry has no idea why he agreed to the interview in the first place. He had skillfully dodged the hundreds of requests for an exclusive tell-all following the untimely split of One Direction and successfully avoided the prying eyes of the general public for several months. So why had he indulged the first request from a girl he hardly knew without so much as a blink? The answer seemed a frustrating mystery to him, but to anyone else, the fluttering in his stomach when he caught a glimpse of her yellow Ford Bronco pulling up to the studio and the way he instinctively raked a hand through his hair gave the answer away.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry!” Alani apologizes, emerging from the car with a notebook nestled under her arm and a smoothie in each hand. She closes the door with her hip before making a beeline to the studio entrance where Harry stands, his right shoulder leaning against the doorframe with the same stoic expression Alani recognizes as his signature look.

“I had to get my sister to cover for me at the café and then I got lost because Google sent me to a Napua restaurant instead of the recording studio,” she rambles in an attempted continuation of her apology. “But anyway, this is for you. A peace offering and a thank you for doing this.”

Harry gingerly takes the green smoothie from her outstretched hand and offers a curt nod in response before ushering her inside.Alani pushes her sunglasses up and settles them into her windswept waves, trailing behind Harry and taking in the space. In one corner across the room, she notices a couple of brightly colored tapestries thumbtacked to the wall with a microphone stand perched in the center, all encased behind a screen of plexiglass. The adjacent wall is lined with guitars all standing at attention and glimmering, despite the dim lighting. Harry stops at the doorway of another room with a couch and a coffee table, the floor littered with wires and pieces of crumpled paper. He motions Alani to step inside and then clears his throat, which catches the attention of two other long-haired men chatting with amused expressions on their faces.

“Sorry lads,” Harry crosses his arms with eyes glued to the floor to avoid their questioning stares. “‘Fraid I have to intrude. Can we have this room?” 

One of the men grins behind a full beard,  popping a peanut M&M into his mouth before standing. “Sure thing, boss man. Let’s bounce, Rowland.”

The other man, also bearded but smaller in stature with a thin, pointed nose nods silently. He continues twirling two drumsticks between his fingers and points one of them at Harry in passing. Alani offers polite smiles at the both of them, and a quiet “thank you” falls from her lips as they exit without another word. Harry closes the door behind them and gestures to the couch, which she takes as her cue to sit.

“I like the uniform,” Alani smiles, gesturing to her hair as a comment on the fact that the three men all share similar lengths and styles.

“Thanks,” is all Harry says, taking a seat across from hers and clearly dismissing her attempt at humor.

To pacify the urge to fill the uncomfortable silence, Alani sips her strawberry smoothie and steals a glance through her eyelashes at Harry who is doing the same. She clears her throat after a minute and sets the drink on the table in front of her; a notebook takes its place on her lap.

“Thank you again for doing this, I really appreciate it,” Alani offers while digging through her bag for her phone. “I’m gonna record this on voice notes, just for the sake of quoting you accurately.”

“Sure,” Harry replies, occupying his gaze with the condensation trickling from the cup onto his fading black jeans. 

Dry retorts from everyone else, especially customers, have little effect on the way Alani conducts herself.  But every short comment from Harry, or lack thereof, makes her feel like a bug under a microscope. She settles her phone onto the coffee table and takes a deep breath to calm the trembling that spreads from her chest into her fingers and toes.

“So first, I wanted to ask about your time in Hawai’i. Are you enjoying it so far?” Alani poses the question lightly, hoping to open him up just enough to extract the story that she’s really looking for.

“It’s nice,” Harry nods, finally meeting her expectant stare. When she doesn’t respond for a beat, he clears his throat and adds on to the statement. “Weather’s good,”

Alani musters a half-hearted smile and glances down at the questions on her page. This is going to take for-fucking-ever, she sighs.

“Is that what drew you here—vacation? Getting away?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,”

The row of guitars behind the singer catches her attention suddenly and guides the next question.

“And to write or.. record?”

Harry shifts in his seat, calculating his response carefully. “Both,”

“Solo stuff?”

Alani watches as he takes a slow sip of his smoothie and crosses his legs, an action which tells her that she’s struck a dead end. Or, at the very least, a door that she hasn’t gained his trust to open yet.

“You were with One Direction for half a decade,” She recovers. “Constantly releasing new music and touring. But now you’re here, doing neither, and haven’t done so for almost a year. What is that transition like?” Alani isn’t sure if Harry will answer when she poses the question, but to her surprise he meets her gaze and nods, as if to say that he accepts the inquiry.

“It’s different than anything I’ve ever done, for sure,” he starts slowly. It’d be a lie to say that he hasn’t given the breakup and, subsequently, his future outside of the band much thought. He thinks about it every day, especially his bandmates and their supportive fans. That much he has been able to unpack privately, but the rest of it—the sudden need to escape and write new music— is still something he can’t quite put into words, so he leans into the nostalgia and hopes it’ll suffice.

“Like you said, it’s been non-stop for the past five years, so I guess it is a bit jarring to come to a sudden halt after so much momentum. Obviously, it’s nice to have the time off, but I love putting out music and touring it. I wouldn’t trade that for anything,”

Alani is grateful to have more than a couple of words of material, despite the fact that it doesn’t really answer the question or tell her anything new about the man sitting crossed legged and closed off in front of her. Looking through her notes, Alani selects another question and embarks on a new angle.

“You were really young when all of that began,” she starts, thinking about how she could never have left her family and home at just 16. Hell, she was 22 and still figuring it out. Hopefully, if all things went well with this interview and Rolling Stone, she would finally find the opportunity to do it. “Do you ever think about where you would be if you hadn’t auditioned for X-Factor?”

Harry knows that she’s playing it safe, trying to feel him out and test the buttons she can push. He also knows that he’s being difficult, much more so than usual due to his nerves. So with an unfamiliar pang in his chest, he decides to relent the tiniest bit.

“Well, I’m starting to think maybe I could’ve been a professional surfer,” he offers matter-of-factly which makes Alani flash an amused grin. Harry’s sudden humor makes the room a bit less suffocating for the both of them and she’s grateful for it.

“Surfing, huh? This I have to see.” she  quips back, suddenly trying to picture him ditching the black skinny jeans for a wetsuit.

He nods with a faint smirk. “Maybe you will.” 

Alani meets his gaze with a shy smile of her own and her eyes fall to his lips for a brief second. The almost imperceptible action sends another foreign jolt through Harry’s chest. She opens her mouth to resume questioning when a loud bang startles them both and causes Harry to spin in his seat, looking through the glass window of the sound booth.

“Sorry!” A man with short, blonde hair and a fading tie dye shirt laughs while lifting the tipped over drum cymbals. “Don’t mind us!”

The two men from earlier straggle in behind and poorly conceal their own fits of laughter. Harry flashes his middle finger briefly, mouthing something that Alani can’t see but knows is undoubtedly rude. She suppresses a giggle and sneaks a glance at her phone, which indicates only a few minutes worth of dialogue. When she lifts her head, the door opens and the blonde man peeks his head in.

“Hello,” he greets with an extended hand before entering and taking a seat next to Alani on the couch. “Tom Hull, or Kid Harpoon...or just Tom, whatever you like best,” 

 She accepts his hand eagerly, not missing the way Harry pinches the bridge of his nose in her peripheral vision. “Mahealani Hale, or just Alani. Nice to meet you,”

“Wow, beautiful name,” Tom compliments. “Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize you had company, H,”

“She was just—”

“I’m writing about-” The two speak at the same time, making brief eye contact before Harry turns his attention back to Tom.

“Did you need something?” He asks. Tom’s eyes dart between Harry and Alani before he clears his throat and reclines in his seat.

“Just dropping by to see if you wanted to go for lunch...” he trails off, which Alani takes as a cue to start gathering her belongings.

“Kind of busy here,” Harry offers with a glance back at the girl seated awkwardly across from him. “Another time,”

At this, Tom turns to Alani and ignores his friend’s protests. “Alani, do you eat lunch?”

Before responding, she casts an apprehensive glimpse at Harry who has suddenly become very intrigued by the drink in his lap, purposefully avoiding her eyes.

“Uh.. well yeah, but I don’t-”

“Great! Have lunch with us,”

“Mate—” Harry speaks up.

Tom grins, shrugging. “What? You plan on starving the poor girl?”

“I really can’t, but thank you for the offer,” Alani explains with a sheepish smile, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It was really nice to meet you Tom. And thank you again, Harry, I’ll see you around.”

The musician watches her shuffle out of the sound booth quietly and turns his attention back at Tom, who sits with an incredulous look on his face.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” He asks, standing. “Go after her, dickhead!”

“It’s not like that she’s-”

“I really don’t give a fuck about your excuses, go!”

Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window as Alani slips through the front door.

She fishes her keys out of her bag and sighs when a familiar voice says her name.

“Alani!” Harry calls from the doorway, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. He makes his way down the steps and over to the driver’s side where she  ghosts the key over the ignition. 

“Come have lunch...please?” 

“It’s okay,” she purses her lips together politely. “I don’t wanna get in the way,”

Harry catches his lower lip between his teeth and runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words thoughtfully. 

“No, you’re not—you won’t,” he starts. “I would really like it if you joined us for lunch, especially since our time got interrupted. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Alani can’t help the way her stomach flips at the words “our time” that fall from his lips and she finds herself nodding in agreement before her mind has had a chance to intervene. 

She makes her way to the passenger seat of the Range Rover parked behind the studio, which she learns is where all of Harry’s entourage keeps their vehicles. A variety of brightly colored vintage cars are neatly parked, and it amuses her that Harry skips all of them, instead going straight for the black SUV with darkly tinted windows. At least he’s consistent,  she smirks. As Alani climbs into the car, she is met by the warmth of Harry’s scent—something woodsy and vanilla— and the fact that she recognizes it makes her heart pound.

“You can connect your phone,” Harry nods to the stereo as he buckles his seatbelt. “To the Bluetooth, I mean, if you’d like.”

 “Really?” she asks, brow raised in mild disbelief.

“Only if you play something good,” he teases with a stony expression, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Alani takes that as a challenge, scrolling through various playlists as Harry peels away onto the main road. Over the speakers, the beginning of “Don’t Worry Baby” by The Beach Boys surrounds the two of them. 

“Is this to your liking, my liege?” Alani poses in an exaggerated British accent that makes Harry cringe, though the small grin on his face gives away his endearment.

“Yes, but please don’t do that accent ever again,” 

“So you admit it, you’re the one with the accent,” she wiggles her brows, eyes peeling away  from the view out her window to Harry in the driver’s seat.

“If it’ll get you to never do that one again, sure,” “Dunno, love,” she continues, watching the coast shimmer under the afternoon sun. “Think  it kinda suits me,”

Harry shakes his head and checks the rearview mirror to make sure that he hasn’t lost Tom, Mitch, and Jeff in the car trailing behind.

“What’s it like?” Alani questions, studying the perfect slope of his pointed nose and strawberry pout.

“What’s what like?”

“England,”

Harry thinks for a second, recalling his London flat, lunches with his mum and sister, the streets of Trafalgar Square, and Abbey Road. 

“Rainy,” is all he says.

Alani scoffs, which draws  his attention over to where she lounges in his passenger seat, sitting comfortably as if it was exactly where she belonged. “That’s all?”

“What?” He questions, though he knows exactly what she means and is perfectly aware of his own stubbornness.

“Just seems like... I don’t know, such a generic description for a place you consider home,”

Harry mulls her response over, the word “home” especially catching his interest. It’s a strange concept in his mind because while, yes, England is where he has spent the majority of his life and where the people he loves most reside, he has never truly felt connected to just one place. And after spending his formative years traveling the world, who could blame him?

“It’s... safe,” he tries again, attempting to verbalize what he’s feeling. “When I’m there, I mean, I feel safe. Like I don’t have to be anyone or do anything specific, I can just... be. No expectations,”

Alani lets Harry’s words sit between them for a moment, sensing that there is still more he wants to say. When she doesn’t respond after a minute,  he continues in an effort to clarify and fill the lull in the conversation.

“I used to think that London was just a starting point and that if I could make it to LA, it would mean that I had really made it, and I would feel more at home there,” he continues, slow and calculated. “But I dunno... when I’m there it still feels like an extended holiday,  like I’m just buying time until I leave for the next place. London doesn’t feel like that, feels much more constant... so yeah, I guess it is home,” 

As if she had read his mind earlier, Alani adds on. “Not to mention that’s where your family is, I’m assuming,” 

Harry nods, once again thinking of his mum and sister. The image of their beaming faces  brings the shadow of a dimple to his cheek.  “Yeah,”

“What’s your family like?” She continues, truly interested and forgetting for a moment about the article she still has to write.

“Kind of small, I guess. S’really just my sister and my mum, but they’re,” Harry pauses, searching for the right words, “They’re the best. My mum’s probably the kindest woman I’ve ever met. Feel pretty lucky with that one, considering what a pest I was as a child,” he chuckles lightly and it’s a sound that Alani hadn’t heard up to this point, but one she knows she’ll replay in her mind over and over again.

“Gem’s pretty patient too—and brilliant, always the studious one,” he adds finally, a dreamy look on his face that Alani much prefers to the stoic one he always dons. .

“Ah yes, there’s always one,” she nods, catching the quirked brow he offers in response.

“Oh yeah? Are you the one in your family?” 

“I guess so. School just seemed to come easily to me,”

“And what made you want to study journalism?” He questions, stopping to let a woman and her toddler cross.

Alani thinks about it for a moment while twirling a strand of fabric from the hem of her ripped shorts around her finger. 

“I’ve always loved to write, ever since I was really little— like short stories and stuff. And I don’t know, I guess I like the idea of traveling and seeking out a story, too.”

Harry nods understandingly, pulling up to a curb across the street from a restaurant that Alani has frequented. It’s relatively empty at Pineapples for a summer afternoon, though most tourists don’t stray too far from the beaches, so Hilo maintains a healthy local population at all times. The pair climb out of the car and Alani makes her way to the rear where the rest of the group has parked. One of the men from earlier greets her with an outstretched hand while Harry chats with the other two that emerge.

“Hi I’m Jeff, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiles warmly,  pushing his sunglasses into his hair. 

“Alani. It’s nice to meet you, Jeff,”

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude by not saying hi it’s just-”

Alani dismisses his concern with a wave of her hand. “Oh don’t worry about it! I was kind of nervous then, too. I don’t know if he told you, but I’m interviewing Harry,”

“Oh, right! Yeah, he did mention that I think,” Jeff recalls, “Which magazine are you with?”

“None.” Yet, Alani thinks, her mind wandering to the Rolling Stone rejection letter. “It’s for a class, I’m a journalism major. Harry was just being nice and agreed to let me write about his music,”

Jeff nods. “Got it. You know, he’s not normally this serious. Just got a lot on his mind but he’ll loosen up,” he explains quietly just as Alani and Harry’s eyes meet. She quickly averts her gaze back to the kind, bearded man standing before her.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” she smiles appreciatively.

“Where’s Jeffrey?” Harry speaks up, catching her attention. She looks back to Jeff, confused, before he shakes his head.

“Other Jeff, his manager.” He explains.

“Probably already inside, he said he’d meet us here.” Mitch pipes up.

With that, the rest of the crew head into the restaurant while Alani stays a few steps behind to follow their lead.

“Y’okay?” Harry asks, shuffling along beside her.

Alani startles slightly at his unexpected presence, but relaxes as their strides fall into sync.

“Yeah, thanks. And thank you for the invite, too.” She offers, the corners of her mouth upturned softly.  Harry responds with a tight-lipped smile of his own and clears his throat before holding the door open for her.

In the far corner of the restaurant near the open balcony, Harry’s manager Jeff waves the group over to the table he saved. Everyone exchanges greetings and settles into their seats, the two at the end facing each other remain open for Alani and Harry.

“Jeff, this is..Mahealani, did I get that right?” Tom gestures to Alani for approval.

She nods and waves. “Yes, but you can just call me Alani,”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff calls from the other end of the table, glancing over to Harry in search of  an explanation for her presence.

“I’m writing a piece about Harry and his music,” Alani offers. “But I’d love to talk to all of you, if you have a chance.”

Jeff nods, still shooting Harry a knowing look. “Yeah, sure thing.” 

The two Jeffs, Tom, and Mitch engage in their own conversations, mostly inside jokes that go over Alani’s head. Harry watches, silent for most of the interaction and barely engaging the girl seated across from him, though he is overwhelmingly aware of her presence. When the server comes to take their order, warmth floods to Alani’s cheeks.

“Alani, hey!” the tall server greets, flashing a handsome, pearly-white smile. “Long time, no see. You’re looking good as always,”

“Mahalo, David. You look good, as well,” She smiles politely, catching onto the way that Harry sits a little straighter in her peripheral vision. David still pays no regard to the rest of the table, but his gaze momentarily flickers over Harry and sizes him up before returning to Alani.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were on a date,” he apologizes, which makes Alani’s eyes bulge  and Mitch snicker beside her. 

“Oh no, we’re not—“

“He’s just—” Alani and Harry speak at the same time, eyes darting to one another before she explains.

“I’m... working on something—an article,” she says, and David nods understandingly.

“Oh...right. Big-shot reporter, I almost forgot,” David teases in a snide way that makes Harry’s blood boil with annoyance. “Anyways, what can I get you all? The usual for you, right Alani?”

She nods curtly while the rest of the group take turns ordering. After the server has gone,  Harry notices a shift in her easy-going demeanor and decides that it’s his turn to break the ice.

“Come here often then?” He poses gently, taking a sip of his lemonade.

Her lips press into a tight line as her eyes wander to the other patrons. “Yeah, kinda,”

“Asshole ex-boyfriend ruined that, I’m guessing?”

Alani lets out an amused breath and shakes her head.

“He’s not my ex. I mean we went out, like, once in high school... and maybe a handful of times in college but that’s it, really,” 

Harry studies the uneasiness in her expression trying, and failing, to understand what she’s holding back.

“Seems like you dodged a bullet,” he confides, leaning in. Alani’s eyes meet his and her pursed lips ease into a small grin, which Harry mirrors with a simper of his own. As he rests his smooth chin in his palm, she notices a large, healing scab along the underside of his forearm, and her brows furrow.

“How’d that happen?” Alani asks.

“He jumped out a window,” Mitch intervenes. “Though to be fair, he was high,”

Harry shoots a deathly glare at Mitch and turns back to Alani. “It was a one-time thing.”

“It was shrooms,” Mitch replies with an amused smirk.

“Hardcore,” Alani giggles lightly. 

Mitch swirls the straw in his mimosa with his index finger while extending a pinky at Alani. “You do drugs?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her Mai Tai. “Smoked weed a few times, though not enough to consider myself a pothead, I guess,”

Mitch snorts and steals a glance at Harry. “Pot makes our boy sleepy, and hungry. Alcohol makes him giggly. Shrooms get him buzzed just right,”

Harry’s cheeks flush and he averts his gaze past Alani where families and visitors roam the streets outside. 

“Jumping out a window’s  ‘just right’? I’d hate to see what going overboard looks like.” she teases, watching the blush of embarrassment creep across the bridge of Harry’s nose and cheeks.

“Keeps things interesting.” Mitch shrugs, turning back to Jeff to join his previous conversation.

 Alani feels a strange sense of endearment wash over her at the thought of a giggly Harry, dimples replacing a deeply furrowed brow. In the short time she’d known and served him at the café, she’d only ever seen him reserved—polite, at best. Alani had hoped that interviewing Harry would provide some insight into his mysterious background, but she didn’t imagine that she would want to know more than what could be penned in her article. In the few minutes spent mingling with him and his friends, she began to think that maybe there was something worth getting to know, not just professionally, but before she can give it a second thought, David returns with their food.

“Thanks, Derek.” Harry says, flashing a facetious grin at David who stands confused for a second before sauntering back to the kitchen. Alani laughs, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth, and Harry’s stomach flips at the sound. He immediately wishes he knew what else he could do to hear it again.

Alani scrapes the last bits of potato off her plate and leans back in her seat, patting her growing food baby. 

“I’m thinking of naming mine Oliver, you?” She sighs contentedly. 

“Anne, after my mum,” he quips back, pulling out his wallet.

Alani reaches into her bag for her own, but Harry shakes his head and speaks up. “Don’t worry about it, ‘s on me,”

“Oh, no Harry you really don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, slipping his card onto the small clipboard attached to their receipts.

“Thank you,” Alani smiles, feeling warmth spread through her limbs, but she assumes that it’s mostly due to the rum in her system.

Harry pushes a lock of hair behind his ear and returns the wallet to his back pocket without another word. While there is no alcohol coursing through his blood, he refuses to believe that the burning in his cheeks has anything to do with the girl seated before him.

Alani climbs back into the passenger’s seat of the SUV while Harry settles behind the wheel. He braces his right hand behind the headrest of her seat and skillfully reverses, only becoming aware of their proximity when he turns back to switch gears. Alani peels her eyes from his and focuses on finding a playlist for their journey back to the studio, her mind racing as she clicks shuffle. Harry’s arm retreats, much to Alani’s disappointment, and his ears perk up when he hears the familiar chimes at the beginning of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere”.

“‘S a good one,” Harry breaks the silence, tapping on the steering wheel. “Christine always says it’s her favorite,”

“Christine...McVie?” Alani questions with an eyebrow quirked. “You know Christine McVie?”

“Kind of,” he shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Do you know Stevie Nicks?”

“Yeah. She lives in London,”

“Holy shit!” Alani marvels, covering her mouth in excitement.

Harry chuckles lightly, stealing a glance over at Alani still processing the news. “Big fan?” 

She whips her head away from the window and scoffs. “Massive. Named my car Stevie, actually,”

“Hardcore,” Harry teases, echoing her own comment about his psychedelic escapades.

“Yes, Mr. Spider-Man. In my own right, I suppose it is hardcore,” Alani retorts.

“I thought  Spider-Man climbed buildings. Don’t think he jumped out of them.”

“I’m sure he’s done his fair share of both.”

The two drive down the coast for a while without a word, Harry drumming against the steering wheel as the song dies out while Alani soaks in the view outside her window. Suddenly, she reaches over and taps him on the arm, drawing him out of his reverie. 

“Turn right up there!”

“Why?” Harry asks, already putting his blinker on. 

Alani doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Harry saw it just seconds after turning into the lookout and it left him breathless. The car comes to a stop and Alani wastes no time unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping into the humid air, Harry close behind. Before them, the biggest rainbow either of them had ever seen shimmers in the high afternoon sun like a wall of unbelievable vibrant hues. Harry had never seen one this close, he felt as though he could reach out and feel each color slip through his fingers. 

“Are you making a wish?” Alani asks reverently, as if raising her voice too loud will spook it away. 

“I thought that was for shooting stars,”

“We’re literally staring face to face with a rainbow and you’re gonna argue with me about the logistics of a wish?”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, grinning to himself as his eyes flutter close. 

Harry takes a deep breath and searches his brain for something, anything, but there is only one word pounding in his mind. He doesn’t know why it stood out to him when Alani first said it, but it struck a chord within him that hasn’t stopped reverberating, so it must mean something. Harry swallows the lump forming at the back of his throat and releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. When his eyes flutter open again, he steals a peek through the corner of his eye at the girl beside him and then fixes his gaze back on the rainbow. 

“S’quite big, innit?” He remarks, breaking the reverent silence. 

Alani snorts and shakes her head, turning on her heel back to the car. 

“You’re so eloquent. Can’t wait to hear what lyrical gems are hiding in your new album,”

“Heyyy,” Harry pouts, climbing behind the wheel. “Who said anything about an album?” 

As they peel away from the lookout, Harry can sense something has shifted in the atmosphere, though he can’t quite put his finger on it. He opts to ignore it and poses a lighthearted question instead. 

“What’d you wish for?”

Alani narrows her eyes playfully. “You’re not supposed to tell. It won’t come true.”

Harry hums, trying to imagine what she could possibly wish for that would require such secrecy, but his thoughts wander back to the singular word that has haunted his mind since it left her lips. 

Home.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry fic #ybmh

[prongsies]

Lights Up • Sirius Black

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader SUMMARY: Sirius finally gets the freedom he deserves as he reunites with an old “friend” WARNINGS: Mild language, a bit sexually suggestive but not that much, shitty writing A/N: I found it a bit hard to write for this song idk why :( Fine Line Master list

"Do you want to stay?” Your voice echoed in the silence of your living room, eyes watching Sirius, trying to memorize every detail about him before you’re all forced into hiding a week later. As friends of Lily and James Potter, whose first and only son is being haunted down by a power-crazed wizard otherwise known as Voldemort, you’re part of the few he considers a hindrance from him “unleashing his full potential” - meaning, he’s got his eyes on killing you too.

Because of this, Dumbledore had asked all of you to go into hiding, and for Lily and James to assign their Secret Keeper. Which led to the dinner you had all shared just moments ago, prepared solely by you, in the small cottage you shared with Remus, skillfully concealed with Charms you had learned and relearned for the sole purpose of this meal.

It started off smoothly, all of you sharing your memories at Hogwarts and teasing James for how love-struck he was over Lily, until you got to the primary matter at hand: deciding who their Secret Keeper was. They were a hundred percent sure they wanted it to be Sirius, and no one questioned it knowing how much he meant to James and vice versa.

But it seemed Sirius didn’t like the idea, pointing his finger towards you or anyone for that matter, just not him. Knowing that as James’ best friend, they will come for him first. But everyone else insisted, Remus backing up the Potters’ statements which resulted in a verbal argument between him and Sirius, Remus eventually leaving to “go get some air”.

The rest of the meal continued in silence though, tensed after that little spat that ensued between your two friends. When it (finally) concluded, you walked your friends out your flat, James and Lily lingering longer to exchange sentiments and expressions of love before you cut off communication indefinitely. Then, with a kiss on Harry’s forehead - and a knowing look from James who gestured towards Sirius - they left, disappearing into the night.

“Sirius,” You tried once again, eyes studying the boy who wouldn’t so much as spare you a glance, “Do you want to stay?”

“I could,” He seemed to consider it for a moment, before his face morphed into a sour expression, “but I wouldn’t”

“What do you mean?” You approached him, taking careful steps towards him trying to avoid any kind of negative reaction, “Is it Remus? You know he won’t mind. He- he just needs some time to think, you know? But he’ll understand when you talk it out-”

“It’s not that, (y/n)!” Sirius exclaimed in obvious frustration, running his fingers through his hair, “It’s just.. I don’t think we should keep doing this anymore”

“What, being friends?” You asked humorlessly, bitterness seeping down your throat.

“Friends don’t fuck around while ignoring their feelings for each other, (y/n)! you know that!” He practically growled at you, eyes softening at your scared expression, yet the rest of his face remained cold, “and I can’t face Remus, especially after practically shoving his illness to his face”

“You just need to talk it out” You reasoned with him, trying to hide the hurt you felt when he backed away from you, “We’re all each other has, Sirius, especially now with James, Lily, and Harry in danger! We can’t- we can’t turn against each other now”

“I’m sorry, (y/n)” 

With that, he rushed out the door, leaving you behind with words paragraphs left unsaid. 

A month later, you and Remus find out about James and Lily’s deaths, then a day after that, the murder of Peter and 12 other muggles at the hands of the person you used to call you friend.

A shiver ran down Sirius’ spine at the sudden cold breeze that brushed his shoulders. Shutting his book and placing it atop the coffee table, he stood to get the fireplace ready, igniting his with his wand, before settling back on the armchair he had occupied.

Sighing at the warmth, he allowed his eyes to trail over the interior of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, where he had been residing in hiding after his escape from Azkaban five years ago. The war had finished, concluding in the so-called Battle of Hogwarts where he fought alongside his best friend, Remus, and godson, Harry. It ended victoriously, Voldemort finally descending into the pits of hell where he belongs.

With his contribution to the war and the countless proof pointing towards his innocence, the Ministry decided to open his case after almost two decades, allowing him the opportunity to walk the earth as a free man once and for all. The thought brought a smile onto Sirius’ lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by his godson who was descending the stairs from his room in the second floor.

“You nervous?” Harry asked as he neared, propping himself onto the armchair across Sirius with an envelope in hand.

“Very” Sirius nodded with a grin, “Although, I’m more excited than nervous”

“That’s alright” Harry shrugged as he pulled out the documents, spreading the papers onto the coffee table so he could sort through them, “Besides, the woman who had taken over your case is supposedly the best one out there. In fact, she was the one who insisted to handle it, apparently she’s been sending appeals to the Wizengamot the moment you’ve been locked up”

“I didn’t know it’d be a woman, do I know her?” 

"Too well, I believe” Harry replied simply, looking up at Sirius with a smirk playing in the corner of his lips as he busied himself. As if on cue a knock sounded from the front door, followed by Remus’ footsteps as he rushed from the kitchen to the entrance hall.

“Remus!” A woman’s voice echoed through the quiet home, followed by the sound of shuffling and the gentle shut of the door. “Is Teddy with you?”

“‘fraid not. He’s with his mum and grandma for a few days, with the full moon last night”

Sirius’ eyes furrowed as he eavesdropped on the conversation. Who could this woman be for Remus to mention his lycanthropy so nonchalantly? 

His question was answered as she stepped into the room, body going rigid at the sight of Sirius on the sofa. The latter was unaware he had rose to his feet as he saw her as well, his breath caught in his throat as he took the sight of her in. (y/n), the same girl he had loved for years, whose thoughts plagued his mind with regret the day he left her standing in her own living room after she reached out to him. 

(y/n), whose skin he used to caress almost every night as they lay in bed after  hours of intimacy and passion, whose lips he swears he could still taste up until this day. (y/n), the name he’d moan in her ear or against her neck, as pleasure overtook his body, he knows he could never be silent around her. (y/n) whose years of stress had aged her features significantly yet, much to Sirius’ jealously, remained youthful and beautiful after all this years.

“(y/n)” He found himself breathing out, his cheeks heating up at the small crack in his voice - a failed attempt of keeping his emotions at bay.

“Sirius” She seemed breath-taken as well. But she was quick to compose himself, hiding the admiration from her features and replacing it with something Sirius assumed to be her professional face. She cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly, before reaching a hand out towards him, “It’s great to see you again. I hope you don’t mind me coming at such a short notice, I just really need to prep you for your trial tomorrow”

“Drop the formalities, (y/n)! We all know your heart still beats for Sirius!” Remus commented from behind her, watching the scene in amusement. He reached over to share a high-five with Harry, who immediately settled after a playful glare sent towards him by Sirius

“Shut it, Moony” (y/n) rolled her eyes.

Hesitantly, Sirius took her hand in his, biting back his smile as his cheeks managed to heat up even more. It all ended far too quickly though, since just after she pulled her hand away, she ushered everyone into the dining room, ordering Remus to shut the door behind him as she charmed the small area to mimic a courtroom - which looked far too realistic that the sight of it brought chills to Harry as he recalled the way he felt in his own trial years ago.

(y/n) motioned towards a chair in the middle of the now-circular room, waiting for Sirius to take his seat. “Now, I managed to collect some of the many questions to be directed your way. Don’t worry though, we’ve also collected some memories to put into the pensieve to back up your statement”

“The pensieve?” Harry asked. He didn’t know they were allowed to do that.

“It’s a special privilege” (y/n) answered his unvoiced question, not tearing her eyes away from the mountains of paperwork she was pulling out from her bag, scanning each one as she placed them gently onto the table, “Help me with this, Moony, will you?”

Remus was quick to her side, helping her look through the documents. It was funny seeing them now, as Sirius had always thought they’d end up together eventually, which had been one of the reasons why Sirius refused to stay when she asked him to - he thought they had feelings for each other, (y/n) just taking it out on Sirius, but he was very wrong.

“Here we go!” She exclaimed triumphantly, grabbing a stack of paper from the pile, circling the table to stand in front of him, “Are you ready, Sirius?”

“Let’s have at it”

___

“This is undeniably one of the worst days of my life” Sirius grunted as he collapsed onto the dining room chair in exhaustion, dropping his forehead rather harshly onto the table in front of him. 

The room had been reverted to its original state when they had concluded the prepping session, something Sirius didn’t enjoy even just one bit.

“Remus, I was overcame by my emotions back then” Sirius deadpanned, earning a grin from Remus. It’s nice they could talk about the past so lightly now, no matter how dark it had been, “My vision literally went dark when I went after Peter. As soon as I calmed, I was already sitting in my cell in Azkaban”

“It wasn’t that bad” Remus tried to make light of the situation, yet upon recalling how it actually went, a cringe made its way onto his face. He could still hear Sirius' loud voice echoing the room just hours ago, trying to defend himself from the accusations thrown by (y/n).

He had thrown harsh words towards her, settling down whenever she would correct his wordings or point out the slight raise in his tone which the council wouldn't like. Sirius tried to keep up with all her suggestions, but doing so would mean he would need to keep his frustrations to himself - which was rather difficult since he had done just that when he was locked up.

He settled mugs of coffee in front of Sirius and (y/n). They had only taken a short few minutes for dinner before continuing their session again, and Sirius didn’t think it’d be that difficult to recall what happened in an event that occurred long ago. By the time they finished, it was near midnight.

“We can request to submit a memory to the council though” (y/n)’s voice was rough as she spoke, an effect of her consistent interrogation towards Sirius, teaching him how to respond in a way that would work in his favor. “Besides, we need you as calm as we can. Merlin knows you can be dramatic sometimes”

“Dramatic!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offense, “Love, you of all people should now how false your accusation is”

“Pads, you literally first appeared to me as a large black dog in the middle of the night” Harry reminded from beside (y/n). Sirius could see the familiarity in (y/n)’s eyes upon hearing Harry call Sirius by his Marauder name, knowing deep down she heard James’ voice as well. 

“Imagine being a thirteen year old finding out your godfather was “on the way to kill you” while seeing a literal death omen all the time. I was literally so afraid I thought I might shit my pants” Harry continued, earning a laugh from Remus.

“And what is it you told me when I transformed that night?” Remus quipped humorously, “You know the man you truly are, Remus!”

“Sod off, Lupin! Bloody hell” but Sirius couldn’t help the smile forming on his face as his eyes found (y/n), watching the way her eyes crinkled at the sides in laughter. Remus noticed this, sharing a look with Harry before nodding him out the room, disappearing up the stairs in hushed whispers.

When (y/n) calmed, she was left alone with Sirius, nursing her mug of coffee in her palms, the way she used to do when her hands started feeling cold. Sirius didn’t want the awkward silence to take over, so he initiated a conversation, “So... how’ve you been over the years?”

(y/n) gave him a look, and Sirius could just hear her teenage self utter a sarcastic ‘really?’, but she answered anyway, “It was rather peachy. I mean, losing James, Lily, and you in two days? It was really hard”

“I’m surprised you and Remus didn’t end up together. I was assuming that after living together for all those years, you’d develop something” Sirius jumped right into it, regretting the years he had spent not even trying to ask.

“Really?” And there it was, the face. She sighed, standing up from her seat to claim the chair beside Sirius, smiling up at him, “We were only friends then, Siri. We both couldn’t afford a place of our own so we figured we could live together. I mean, if you weren’t staying with Lily and James then, I would’ve offered you to live with me”

“Did you see someone else while I was gone?” 

“You’re actually being so blunt right now” (y/n) laughed. “If you had been this straight-forward then we would’ve been together by now. But yes, I had been in many relationships. Remus and I even tried going out once - too awkward so we reverted back to being friends. There was also this one guy who actually proposed to me 6 months into the relationship, but I declined”

“Why? You could’ve had a family by now”

“Let’s just say I was waiting for the Ministry to finally accept my petition to reopen your case. It’s the main reason why I joined the Wizengamot council really, so I can set you free” She said softly, “I’ve always known you wouldn’t betray your friends like that, especially James”

“Yeah” Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off (y/n)’s lips as she spoke, swallowing audibly at the thought of how easy it is to connect their lips in the small distance between them. “Can I kiss you?”

“I could say yes, but I wouldn’t” She replied cheekily, reminisce of one of the few words Sirius had told her before he left.

“I’m sorry, by the way... I was young then - scared of the war, of being given that much responsibility which I ended up chickening out of. I- I didn’t know who I was then”

“Do you know who you are now?”

“No, but I’m certain I am hopelessly in love with you - have been all these years” His face neared hers, lips mere centimetres away, “And I know I’ll go mad if I don’t get to feel your lips again”

“I can’t” She pulled back, surprising Sirius. She was staring at his lips though, while biting her own, an indication of how much she wanted to do it, “I want to but I can’t. As of now, you’re still a client”

“Oh”

“But if you do a good job tomorrow, maybe I can reward you with one? and maybe something more?”

The grin on both their faces confirmed an agreement, and although Sirius’ nerves had settled once again in his stomach, at least he had something to look forward to.

___

“Are you ready, darling?” (y/n) asked as she stood beside Sirius near the front door of 12 Grimmauld place, her hand on the knob ready to turn it at any second. Harry and Remus had gone ahead of them, bringing Sirius’ belongings to (y/n)’s home somewhere in London, and mainly to give the two some privacy.

“Ready as ever, love” Sirius grinned. 

With a grin, she swung open the front door, allowing the sunlight to enter the house while the cold afternoon breeze nipped at their skin. 

Finally, after twelve years in Azkaban, and five years hiding in the Hellhole House of Black, he was finally able to take his first steps outside as a free man. Pulling (y/n) towards him in a tight embrace as they stood on the porch, he couldn’t help but let a few tears escaped. 

He had thought this moment would remain a dream, something so impossible to happen that he hated himself for even considering it. But here he was, not needing to transform into a dog just so he could roam the streets. 

He’s a free man now.

With a grin he turned back towards his old home, glaring at it as he raised both his hands, flashing the front door with his middle fingers, before shouting, “Fuck you, Number 12 Grimmauld Place! Fuck you, Azkaban! I’M NOT EVER GOING BACK!”

Fine Line Tag List:

@cedricisnotonfire​ @rexorangecouny​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @annasofiaearlobe​

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagines #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #remus lupin #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders x reader

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 1 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Alternate Chapter Title: Oh, Sugar Honey Iced Tea!

• • •

"You're the one they're dating, aren't you?" Jerry asks, obstructing the line. A few potential customers leave when they notice what's going on, not bothering to become involved in the mess. "How's that gonna even work, though? They're only into real men as far as I know. You're just bones and magic."

"This really ain't the place for us to be talkin' about this, pal," Sans replies, looking behind Jerry. "Just lemme do my job. We can talk about this after I clock out."

"Don't you have a lunch break? Let's talk by then."

"'Fraid I've already got plans for lunch."

"Does it involve them?"

"Maybe." The monster shoos him out of the hot dog stand, continuing to serve those in wait. "Dunno why you're still so hung up over this, though. Why don't ya move on?"

"That's easier to say than do." Again, Jerry obstructs the line, ignoring those who tell him to buzz off. He suspends himself over the cart and grabs Sans by the collar, pulling him off the ground until he's to his eye level. He narrows his eyes and tightens his grip on the monster's shirt, yet the latter remains calm. "How far have you gone with them? You're betraying our friendship."

Sans uses magic to break free from Jerry's hold. Then, he shrugs, hands slipping into his pockets. "Let's end it, then. Rather have that than let you keep on questionin' me over weird stuff, and then make me lose customers 'cuz ya keep on blockin' the line."

"Wouldn't have happened if you'd just tell me what's going on."

"I would," Sans comments, taking a water bottle and handing it to one of his clients. "But realistically speakin': What's it to ya? From what I've noticed so far, they've moved on from you, pal."

"But I haven't."

Chuckling, Sans takes a break from the conversation to look up at the sky, grey clouds blocking the sun and the heat. There are people around with their umbrellas already at hand. Those who don't have any rush to find someplace with a roof. "I'm gonna say this nicely, so hear me out." He emerges out of the hot dog stand and starts closing things up, not only due to the worsening weather, but it being barely ten minutes away from his lunch break. If Jerry was still at it, he needed that extra time to get him off his back. "I don't want any trouble, so stop tryna stir some. You had your chance, Jerry. Now it's none of your business who your ex chooses to date, and even less how far they've gone with that person."

"It should be if Frisk will be in the picture."

"Then take responsibility and look after them. You're worryin' too much about this."

"You don't know what I've been through."

"Maybe not, but I can at least tell you to try. Didn't you do the same when I was talkin' about hitting things off with (Y/N)?"

"That was a mistake." He scoffs, glaring at the monster. "Don't rub it in."

Sans finishes closing up right as the first few drops fall. A strong wind blows, wet earth and hot concrete wafting through the air. When he walks off -- Jerry now left behind -- Sans soon stops, hearing him mutter out a 'wait'. Then, he turns around, facing up at the human man, anger present in his posture, stiff and awkward. "Just... Just tell me if you're serious about them or not."

Though it pours, Sans is unable to move. He stays still and considers Jerry's words, thinking back on the night at the hotel and yesterday evening.

Sure, he found them attractive -- attentive and dedicated when it came to their role as a parent, too.

But why exactly did he want to be with them?

Despite his social circle, he mostly thrived alone, and taking up big responsibilities wasn't his thing, in truth. It often tired him out to so much as consider having a serious relationship with someone, and he couldn't even maintain his current friendships or the day-to-day life with his brother. He sounds a lot like the same man he's judging with those last lines, yet it doesn't feel right; that same sensation increases the more he considers his feelings and the situation overall. Living with his brother brought upon an inevitably energetic lifestyle. His personality was far different from Papyrus's, and -- on some occasions -- he didn't exactly feel his best self knowing those differences were still present between him and most of the people he knew.

So why was he getting himself into something as complex as a romantic relationship? 

Was he only curious about how it all felt, having heard others around him talk about love and intimacy ever since he could remember?

If that was the case, then it really wasn't okay for him to keep fooling around with them.

And judging by how stern and persistent Frisk was when it came to defending their primary care parent, they wouldn't be, either.

"You just think they're attractive, and that's about it. Right? They're only eye candy to you, I'm sure." Jerry comments, Sans's time having run out. "Betting you ten bucks you'll ditch them the second you get bored of them."

He doesn't hold back his tongue, replying with, "Talkin' from experience?"

With the rain now pouring too hard for either of them to continue, Jerry settles by glaring at the skeleton before giving his back to him. "You dodged my question," he remarks, snickering. "Let's have a talk when you've actually got an answer, and maybe then you can go ahead and judge me all you want, bro." Silence arrives, broken with, "In the end, you're just as bad as me."

Sans stays quiet, analyzing the bit of truth in Jerry's words.

Before Frisk freed his kind, how many times didn't he simply stand by the sidelines, watching as fallen human after fallen human got hurt, sought, and wounded -- until their passing? 

He didn't hurt anybody, but then he also didn't help anybody either. Things had gone in a similar way with Frisk; he'd only watched over them every so often, fulfilling Toriel's promise of not hurting any human, but half-heartedly -- seeing as he'd never bothered to help them much, either.

What guaranteed he wouldn't do the same thing here at the Surface, and even more with a human crush he was only recently getting to know?

"Sans, you're soaked!"

Speaking of them, Sans sets those thoughts aside and looks up to see an umbrella covering him up. (Y/N) stands under it and close to him, brushing shoulders as they escort him off to drier land. Their touch sends electricity down his body, yet he forces himself to ignore it, a flash of guilt overcoming those wants. He accompanies them under a bus stop, its roof providing partial cover from the rain. They keep the umbrella straight even as they rummage through their belongings, looking intent to take out something from there. "Hold on a second," they say, retrieving a pink and polka-dotted handkerchief from one of their bag's tiny side pockets. "It's… not really much, but it's better than staying all wet."

Sans nods, still too lost in his thoughts to respond properly. He takes off his jacket and grabs the piece of cloth, quirking an eye socket when he sees the human move their gaze elsewhere. "...Your shirt's a bit thin," they comment, as if reading his mind. If it embarrassed them, it was hard to tell with their voice, too quiet for him to catch onto any change in tone. "Should we find somewhere else to stay? The sky just keeps getting worse."

Almost seeming to set those priorities straight, the weather responds to their comment by lashing out more rain, stronger than before. A car drives past, sending a torrent of water at his and everybody else's direction, holding little regards to speed, puddles, and those nearby. He reacts by instinct, casting a quick shield to prevent everyone around from getting wet. As he steps back, his shoulder brushes with theirs again and he's forced to suppress another shudder. His soul and body both long for their presence; his brief time with them at the hotel has now become a faint yet pleasant memory he wanted to keep and cherish whenever possible. "Let's go," he replies. Then, he reaches out for the umbrella without looking.

He grabs their hand instead -- by accident, that is. 

To his surprise, they don't pull back, and he follows their gaze to see them looking up at the sky. "...It's getting worse," he hears them say, a hint of sadness showing up on their tone, words muttered. "Let's go to my place." Their comment is pure survival instinct more than anything suggestive. He sees their chest rise and fall at quicker intervals, hinting at panic. "I need to go get Frisk if the weather keeps up like this." 

Their voice breaks and their hand stays with his. Briefly, he wonders why they're scared over the bad weather, that being something mostly he was known for. 

"Aren't they with Toriel today?" Sans asks, trying to lighten up the mood. "The kid's safe if you're worried about 'em."

(Y/N) remains quiet, observing the rain before saying, "I… I lost them in a storm like this one the last time they ran away." They huff, not in annoyance, but in fright -- based on the shudder their body makes. They press themselves closer to him, the height difference making their arm brush with his shoulder. Their head rests against the top of his, tilted over to the side. "I'm worried they'll do it again with what… happened yesterday."

He slips his free hand back into his pocket, still too awkward to pull his hand away from the umbrella. "Do ya really think they'll do somethin' like that again?" It's an unforeseen question, one he feels imprudent over asking. Even so, there's no turning back now, and he can only try to soften up his words better. "They looked pretty sorry for doin' that twice."

"Still…" They press closer to him, holding his waist. Judging by how careful their touch is and how little their expression shifts from their sorrow, he shakes off the possibility of this being one of their attempts at paying back at him for his flirting. "I'm worried." Their hand slips away, leaving the ghost of their warmth on his bones. "We should get going. You're still soaked." They smile, continuing with, "Thank you, by the way. It was a lot better having you pick us up, rather than taking the bus at seven."

Finally capable, Sans pulls his hand back and follows them out of the bus stop, finding additional coverage under the roofs of nearby buildings. "No problem," he says, looking up at them. Only the human and himself can be seen walking; the rest of the people around either make a run for it, or take cover inside shops and offices. "That's what we're all here for, pal."

They smile; all the uncertainty from before seems to have never existed with how bright their expression is. Then, they nod and bump their hip against his. "I mean it," they say, lips tugging upwards. "I, well… I still feel weird over our date, but in a good way, though."

• • •

He arrives at their home an hour after. 

The weather's still at it, though compared to previous times, there's no thunder to worry about yet. All sorts of leaves litter the grass and the roads around, the strength of the wind being responsible for it. A few car alarms go off as debris falls over them, leaving their owners to try bringing control over the situation. 

When he makes it with them to the front door, they open it up in no time at all and bundle him up with a towel as soon as they step inside. 

"You should shower and change, just in case," they say, slipping off their shoes. They set the pair aside next to the welcome mat, and he figures he should do the same, too. "I'm not sure if monsters can get sick this way, but you should head over to the bathroom while I look for some clothes."

It's only when they turn to him that the situation finally gets to him. Captivated by their words, he looks up at them with a grin, that alone resulting to be enough for them to freeze and stay still, like a deer in the middle of a road. "Taking this dating thing seriously, huh?" he asks, stepping closer to their side. They don't take a step back, nor do they glare, looking as lost as humans often did when they fell Underground. "I'm flattered."

When they do show their anger, it conflicts with a frown and watery eyes -- far different from their usual self. Even when they'd become frustrated confronting Alphys and Undyne about their lives underground, they hadn't shown sorrow like this one. It's distant and concerning enough for him to want to back away from his frequent teasing.

(Y/N) takes a step forward, the clicking of their shoes now gone. Then, they lower their gaze and their frown quivers as they try not to let their tears fall. "I…" They hold on to his shoulder, bringing him closer as they do the same. Their eyes narrow and their unknown conflict shows through the wrinkles on their forehead and the subtle pout of their mouth. With how close they are, it wouldn't take much for their lips to brush with his teeth. 

Just as he feels their arm around his waist, they pull back, looking elsewhere as they backtrack on their steps. "...I need to ask you something," they say, still facing away. All of a sudden, their conflict dissipates and anger returns to their posture. They cross their arms, finding strength again. "Can... Can you stay over so we can talk?"

Sans nods, keeping his cool. He tries not to think back too much on how close they just were or how they'd brushed off their sadness like it was nothing, yet it's hard to do. His soul pounds as he holds them back with a 'wait', refraining from physical contact. "You doin' alright, (Y/N)?" he asks, holding back a breath. "We can still talk about yesterday, if you wanna. Maybe we can't go anywhere with the weather right now, but I can make us that dinner I promised you last time."

Their lips form a firm line as they consider his offer.

Seconds later, a smile shows on their face. They then look down at their phone, checking the time. "Sounds good." They grin, a stifled laugh following it. "Now go change, Sans. We can't keep this up if you get sick!"

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

[isntthisenoughwhatwouldbeenough]

With You By My Side (Polyhamilsquad x Reader)

A/N: Another request done! I hope you like this anon, I apologize for taking so long. This request for the reader being afraid of thunder storms and hamilsquad comforting the reader with lots of fluff! I hope there’s enough here for you. I hope you all enjoy and as always I’m sending you all good vibes and all my love!

.

.

.

You had always been afraid of storms. The loud crash of thunder always made your heart race and if the lights went out it just got worse. You hated thunder storms, they made you feel jumpy and nervous, petrified of something you couldn’t control at all. For most, thunderstorms were no big deal, just a part of the weather. You never felt much need to mention it, most of the time it slipped your mind until the moment a storm started.  

You had been with your boys for three blissful months and luckily for you there had been no storms in sight. Unfortunately, your luck had run out.  

It was a quiet evening, you were in the kitchen with Lafayette, helping him with dinner. Alex and John had decided to work in the dining room in an effort to be close to the rest of you and Hercules was sketching away designs at the kitchen bar smiling to himself, while you and Laf sang in hushed tones to each other.

You were so enthralled in your haven that the crash of thunder caught you completely off guard.

CRASH!

You jump, nearly dropping the bowl in your hands. You start to go into a state of panic, but do your best to control it with steady breathing.  

“Are you alright, mon ange?” Laf asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.  

Hercules looks up from his work, looking to see if you’re alright.  

You nod quickly. “I’m fine, the thunder just caught me off guard.”

Laf nods and looks down at your shirt.

“Mon couer, your shirt is a mess.”

You look down to inspect your shirt to find Laf was correct. You must have spilled sauce on yourself when you had gotten startled.

“Oops, I guess I’ll go change.” You say looking up at Laf and Herc. “Can I borrow a shirt from one of you?”

“Anyone you’d like, my love,” Alex answers from his seat at the dining table.

“Mine are up for grabs, baby girl,” John smiles at you from the table.

You smile back and quickly nod, making your way to the bedroom.

You decide on a soft old band tee that you’re sure is Johns and just as you pull your shirt over your head, there's another crash of thunder.

You curl into a ball and cover your ears.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you mumble to yourself as will yourself to breathe.

In, out. In, out. In-

You cringe as another crash of thunder echoes around the room and the way the wind is blowing against the windows makes you feel as if the storm is trying to get inside.

“You’re fine, you’re fine,” you repeat to yourself, trying to keep yourself calm and your tears at bay as clutch Johns shirt to your chest.

“That storm sounds awful,” John says as lightning and thunder crash at once.

“It looks like it's getting worse by the minute,” Hercules agrees, looking out the window.

“We should get the flashlights and candles ready in case, mon amour,” Laf tells Hercules.  

He nods and starts to go get them, but pauses when he realizes you’re still absent.

“Did (Y/N) come back out?”

The boys all shake their heads. Hercules begins to worry and goes down the hall to retrieve the flashlights and candles with John following behind. As they make it to the hallway closet, they hear your muffled voice. You sound distressed and they quickly enter the room. They’re by your side as soon as they see you curled up on the floor.  

“Baby girl, whats wrong?” John is panicked by your state.

Hercules gently pulls your hands from your head, and as you look up at him he can see tears rolling down your cheeks.  

“Cupcake, are you hurt?” He begins trying to look for any cuts on you.  

You shake your head and try to breathe, but every breath comes out shaky.  

“I-I’m af-f-fraid of thu-thunder sstorms,” you stutter out.

“Sweetheart,” he says tenderly, he pulls you onto his lap.  

You immediately bury your face into his chest and clutch onto him.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright, baby,” he soothes you, “I got you.”

“John, love, will you get a glass of water for her please.”

John nods quickly and races to the kitchen.

“What's wrong, mon couer?”

“Our girl is afraid of thunder storms and she’s having a panic attack.”

Alex is out of his seat and bolting to the bedroom. Lafayette and John are quick to follow.

“My love,” Alex whispers tenderly, rubbing a soothing hand across your back.  

You lift your face to look at Alex, he raises his hand to wipe the tears away from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head softly.  

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he smiles softly at you as you lean into his gentle touch.

“Here, baby girl,” John is by your side again, “drink some water.”  

He holds the glass to your lips and you take a few sips.  

“Mon ange,” you feel Lafayette's hand on the back of head.  

You look up at him, and he smiles gently, lightly rubbing your head.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

You shrug your shoulders.  

“It wasn’t really on my mind.”

They all nod.  

Another crash and you curl into Hercules chest again. Alex grabs your hand in his and kisses your palm. When you look up at him, he smiles.  

“We need blankets, pillows, and the flashlights,” he smirks and kisses your wrist. “We’re building a fort.”

You laugh softly, and he feels triumphant when he sees the small smile on your face.  

“That’s not necessary.”

“It absolutely is, baby girl.” John smiles and kisses your cheek, before following Alex to set things up.  

Lafayette reaches for you and pulls you into his chest gently.  

“Let's get you comfortable, ma cherie.”

You realize that you’re still not wearing a shirt, your cheeks flush. He smiles tenderly and softly traces your cheek.

“I’m gonna go help set up,” Herc kisses your temple, before exiting the room.

Laf helps you find a set of pajama bottoms so that you’re comfortable and as soon as you’re done he lifts you into his arms.

“You don’t have to carry me around,” you tell him. Your actions contradict your words as you lean into him.  

“Hush, mon doux amour, let us take care of you.”

When you make it to the living room, John is waiting in the middle of the fort with open arms.

“I’m ready for you, sweet girl.’  

You smile and snuggle into him, as he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.  

Before you know it your lovers surround you on both sides. John and Hercules on your left, Alex and Lafayette on your right. Your boys distract you with stories, and jokes, making you laugh, each of them relieved to see your beautiful smile.

When you do hear another crash of thunder as you’ve all settled down, you only jump slightly.

“You alright, love?” Alex asks sweetly touching your face and holding you close.  

“I’m okay,” you nod.  

“Are you sure?” John asks from behind you, snuggling into you.

“I’m sure, with you all by my side, its not so scary.” You smile. “I’m protected.”

“You know,” Hercules starts, “if you moved in with us, we’d always be able to protect you from any storm that might come.”

“You want me to move in with you?”

You’re surprised by the statement and look at each of them to make sure they were all on board with the idea. They each smile lovingly at you.  

“Of course we do, mon couer, we miss you so much when you’re gone.”

“And if you move in with us, we can snuggle like this every night,” John adds, nuzzling your neck and making you giggle.  

“I do like that.”

“We’ve never been more sure, love,” Alex smiles sweetly and rubs your side where his hand is resting. “What do you say?”

“There’s nothing that would make me happier.”

You’re smooshed between the four of them and laugh as they each try to hug and kiss you at once. Storms were scary but as long as you had your boys they weren’t so bad.

#hamilton #hamilton imagine #hamilton imagines #poly!hamilsquad x reader #poly!hamilsquad #polyhamilsquad x reader #polyhamilsquad #hamilsquad x reader #hamilsquad #alex x reader #alexander x reader #alexander hamilton #john x reader #laurens x reader #John Laurens #gilbert x reader #lafayette x reader #Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette #hercules x reader #mulligan x reader #Hercules Mulligan #hamilton fanfic

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

Duo Shot: Stendhal Syndrome Part 1: Brat

Intro: It’s Rori’s fifth birthday party, and there’s someone there who Katie doesn’t really appreciate hanging round her man. And Steve doesn’t really appreciate Katie’s attitude either.

Uh Oh….

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was a one shot. I got carried away and wrote 24 pages. So now you have a duo shot thanks to that photo sending me to a dirty place. No smut in this one…but it’s on its way in the next part! 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 May 2029

“Katie…” Steve called up the stairs. He waited for a moment. There was no response. “Honey?”

Still nothing.

He bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time and headed over the landing and into their room. He paused in the doorway, smiling gently as he saw his wife curled upon the bed, Harry snuggled into her, his head tucked under her chin as they both slept. He wasn’t surprised they were both flat out. They’d had a rough time with the tot the previous night. He had woken up at about 2 am crying and Steve had gone into find both he and his bed full of vomit. After they’d cleaned him up he’d continued to be sick, grumpy and teary, and hadn’t settled even when they’d brought him into bed with them. Eventually Katie had given up and taken him downstairs. Steve had initially gotten up with them but Katie had sent him back to bed pointing out that one of them needed to be with it enough to look after the others the day after. It was also an unspoken fact that they both knew Harry wouldn’t settle for his dad when he was like this. Steve thought Jamie was a momma’s boy but that was nothing compared to their youngest.

He gently closed the door and headed back downstairs and into the den where Jamie was sat cross legged on the rug faffing with some Lego and Rori was perched watching The Wizard of Oz.

“Guys, what do you fancy for lunch?”

“Are you making it?” Jamie looked up at him. Steve snorted.

“Fraid so pal. Momma’s asleep with Harry.”

“Is Harry still sick?” Rori looked around, her eyes wide.

“He’s ok sweetie.” Steve assured her “He just has a tummy bug.”

“Or he ate your cooking.” Emmy said from behind Steve as she passed him heading into the kitchen.

“Enough cheek thank you.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow at her back. He heard her chuckle as she opened the fridge.

“Jamie its ok…” she called “There’s left over lasagne.”

“Yesss.” Jamie said, jumping up off the rug. “Mom’s lasagne is the best.”

“Daddy?” Rori spoke again, her round green eyes looking at Steve.

“Yes baby?”

“Will Harry be ok for my birthday party?”

Steve noticed her biting her lip, the same expression Katie wore when she was worried. With a soft chuckle he crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. “Of course he will, it’s not for another week yet.”

She considered his answer and nodded. Steve reached out and gently tucked her dark hair behind her ears. It was then he noticed her lip wobbling.

“Hey…” he said, frowning, as he stood up to sit besides her. She crawled onto his lap and tucked her face into his shirt “What’s wrong?” She sniffled slightly and pressed her face further into his chest. Steve gently rubbed her back and stayed still waiting for her to speak.

“Jemima at school…” she sniffled, and Steve took a deep breath. He knew where this was going. “Her brother got sick and he dieded.” “Ok…” he said gently, “Jemima’s brother was very poorly. Harry just has a tummy bug. I promise you Rori, he’s not going to die.” She sniffed again and looked up at him “Pinkie promise?”

He smiled and held up his hand, little finger extended “pinkie promise.” She mimicked him and intertwined her small finger with his before she reached up and wrapped her arms round his neck, nuzzling her head into the space against his cheek.

“Why is your face always scratchy?” she asked and Steve gave a laugh.

“Blame your Momma, she won’t let me shave.” he said and Rori pulled back, her little hands raking into his beard. He playfully snapped at her fingers with his teeth, a loud clicking noise sounding as he bit onto thin air and she giggled.

“You gonna come get some lunch?” he looked at her. She nodded and he stood up with her in his arms, carrying her through to the kitchen where Emmy was already halfway through making a salad to go with the leftovers which were heating in the microwave.

“Thanks Em.” Steve said, dropping Rori onto a chair by the table before he moved over to grab some plates.

“Think we should save mom some?”

“No it’s ok.” Steve shook his head “if she’s hungry when she wakes I’ll make her a sandwich.”

Emmy nodded. “Oh, I thought Peter and Brooke could come over later, if that’s ok? I mean, if Harry’s not still sick.” “They can come over anyway, it’s fine.” Steve said, “Harry will most likely be upstairs anyway.”

“We were just gonna hang out by the pool for the evening…” “Em.” Steve chuckled “It’s fine…” and then he paused and smirked slightly as he looked at her “You want the beer don’t you?”

She wrinkled her nose and nodded.

“There’s plenty in the bar…just don’t get that drunk one of you drowns.” he said after a pause. “Explaining that to Peter’s Aunt or Jennifer would be a bit awkward.”

“Thanks dad.” she smiled at him.

They ate their lunch, the 4 of them chatting away, Steve pleased to see Rori was settled now, her earlier upset forgotten. Once they were finished Emmy took Rori and Jamie out into the garden to play on the jungle gym whilst Steve cleared the dishes. Every so often he glanced out of the window to see the kids playing a soft smile on his face. He enjoyed days like this, weekends or during the holidays when they were all together. It was just a shame their brother was too poorly to join in. He called out of the open door to tell Emmy he was nipping upstairs before he repeated the journey he had taken a little over and hour ago, checking his watch.

Katie glanced up as he opened the door, her finger on her lips.

“Hey…” he whispered.

She smiled and gave a soft yawn “How long have I been asleep?”

“Not sure sweetheart.” he said, “I came up about an hour or so ago and you were flat out.”

She gave another yawn and Harry stirred gently, his hand rubbing at his eyes before he settled back down. Katie gently felt his head.

“He’s not as warm as he was.” she said as Steve gently perched on the bed, smoothing back his son’s dark blonde hair.

“Rori got really upset.” he said, smiling softly “She mentioned Jemima’s brother.”

Katie sighed and frowned “Yeah. It was hard trying to explain that when we heard the news. Is she ok?”

“She’s fine.” he assured her “Gave her a pinkie promise Harry only had a tummy bug so.”

“Daddy’s girl.” she smiled and Steve gave a gentle chuckle.

“Peter and Brooke are coming over later.” he said “Emmy wants to hang out in the pool house with a few beers.” Katie smirked “You’re definitely going soft in your old age.”

“Well Emmy is 21 now so I can’t stop her and as for Pete and Brooke, well, sooner they do it here than in a bar.” he shrugged. “You want some lunch?”

Katie shook her head “I’ll eat later.”

Harry stirred again, only this time he grumbled slightly and blinked, opening his eyes sleepily. He looked at his momma before he nuzzled into her closer, his hand winding into her hair as he started to grizzle slightly.

“Hey baby…” she said, kissing his head.

He mumbled something again, his noises not quite forming into words yet, still being half asleep, and then he turned his head to peek up at his dad.

“You ok Pal?”

Harry eyed him for a moment before he moved and held out his arms in Steve’s direction. Slightly surprised Steve moved to take him in an embrace as the little boy snuggled into his chest and Steve kissed his head. Katie smiled, the sight of Steve with his kids was something she would never get tired of. Being a father brought out all his best qualities, just like the serum had amplified them, having kids had too.  He was loving, patient, gentle yet strong, stern and happy to deal out the discipline when appropriate.

She sat up, pecking him on the cheek at the point where his beard met smooth skin. “You know you might not have the shield anymore but you’ll always be their superhero.”

********

Much to Rori’s relief (and everyone else in the Rogers household for that matter) Harry’s illness only lasted 24 hours and he was back to his cheeky, happy little self the next morning. Arrangements pressed ahead for the party, it wasn’t a huge gathering-namely Rori’s closest friends from school and family- which was to take place the weekend before her birthday.  As she shared her day of birth with her late uncle, Katie always found the day a little bittersweet but she tried to keep any of her sadness and nostalgia at bay for the sake of her little girl and focus on the celebration instead.

By 2pm in the afternoon their garden was packed with 7 other 5 year olds, a couple of parents and the usual additional suspects, namely Morgan and Pepper, Jennifer and Brooke along with Bucky and Sam. Rori had stipulated that she didn’t want any games or anything, just to play in the garden on a bouncy castle with some “Princess Punch” which was basically pink lemonade full of chopped up strawberries and raspberries, something her dad had made her one day and she insisted that no one else could make it the same. So, that’s what she had gotten.

“So who’s the blonde Katie’s throwing shade at?” Sam asked as Steve handed him a beer. Steve groaned. Rori’s best friend, a girl called Aurelia was obviously at the party. And so was her mother. A certain Dani-with-an-I, the real-estator who had shown them around the first house they had looked at in Brooklyn all those years ago But, as Steve knew only too well, his wife held a grudge better than anyone he had ever met in his life.

Ever.

Sam gave a loud snort of laughter as Steve explained about the whole incident when they’d been looking round the house and Dani flirting with him whilst Bucky took another Asgardian beer from the stack Steve had placed in a specific chiller in the garage and popped the top off effortlessly with his metal hand. The three men emerged out of the side door back onto the garden, taking up their spot by the side of the garden overseeing the proceedings whilst the women were perched on the decking which ran flush along the back of the house. Katie was milling around the garden somewhere, making sure everyone was ok.

“Bet that makes for interesting conversations when Aurelia comes for sleepovers…” Bucky mused.

“Katie’s not callous enough to have issues with a child simply because she doesn’t like her mother.” Steve shook his head, immediately defending his wife. “In fact she’s nothing but welcoming to her, she’s Rori’s friend after all. She just keeps any exchanges between her and Dani to a minimum.”

“Well, you best watch your back…” Sam said “Because it looks like she’s heading over.”

Steve sighed and spun round to face Dani as she approached him.

“Hi Steve…”

“Hey Dani.” he said “Everything ok.”

“I don’t want to cause a fuss but, well Jamie and Morgan are causing a bit of an issue.”

“Issue?” Steve frowned. At that point Rori came running over to him, tears flooding from her face. “Princess…” he crouched down. “What’s wrong?”

“Jamie and Morgan are throwing those little ball thingies that bang at everyone!” Rori said, stamping her feet. Steve glared up at Bucky.

“I told you not to give him those!” “I aint given him any for weeks!” Bucky held his hands up. “He’s clearly stashed them…I’m sorry Rori…”

“What have you done now?” Bucky turned to see Katie stood there, her eyebrows raised, sunglasses perched on her head as they acted like a headband, keeping her long hair off her face.

“Given Jamie contraband.” Sam said.

“Those damned firecrackers?”

Bucky shrugged.

“You’re an ass.” she said to him as she crouched down to look at Rori. “You ok sweetie?”

“He keeps throwing them at me!” she yelled.

“Ok…” Katie soothed her, and Steve took the opportunity to glance at his wife. She still knocked him off his feet after all these years. Her make-up was light, leaving those freckles he adored on show, and the pale yellow and blue maxi dress she was wearing complimented her amazing figure and curves to perfection, leaving her shoulders bare bar the thin spaghetti straps which crossed at the back. And it was low cut enough that Steve could see a fair bit of sideboob as well. Which he would never complain about. She turned to Steve, raised her eyebrow as his gaze lifted from her chest to her eyes. “Did you hear a word of that?”

“No.” he said honestly. She snorted.

“I just said that you’d go and speak to Jamie and Morgan.” she said, nodding to Rori.

“I’ll deal with your brother, I promise…” Steve confirmed “Go and play and don’t worry about it…”

He wiped her tears away with his hands, gave her a kiss and stood up

“Where are they?”

“By the side of the pool house.” Katie responded at the same time Dani said the same thing.

“We got it, thanks…” Katie looked at the woman. She nodded and sidled off, Steve ignored the look of utter glee that Sam and Bucky shared at the fact Katie was getting all “Starky Snarky” as Sam called it. Katie watched her leave before she turned back to Steve, ignoring the look he was giving her. “Spotted the little shits before.” she continued “They’re trying to hide behind the stack of sun-loungers”

He nodded, dropped a kiss to Katie’s lips and headed off to find the trouble makers. He took the long way, striding round the edge of the pool so they wouldn’t see him coming. He stood simply watching them for a moment. Jamie and Morgan were thick as thieves. With little over a year between them, they’d practically grown up as brother and sister, which Steve and Katie loved, but they were a recipe for trouble. With Morgan’s cleverness and Jamie’s penchant for mischief they made a right pair. Jamie said something to Morgan and she sniggered and they both stood up which was when Steve made his move. He gently grabbed Jamie’s collar and the back of Morgan’s top, pulling them back, ignoring their yells of protest as he bent over.

“If you two don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be in big trouble.” his voice was low and steely as he spoke and the pair of them stiffened slightly. He let go and stood up, hands on his hips.

“Dad, we were only-“

“Son…” Steve cut him off, holding his hand up in an instruction to stay quiet “Just don’t.” He held his palm out in front of him “Hand em over…”

With a sigh and a scowl Jamie emptied his pockets, Morgan following suit and they both passed Steve the small boxes of the little white firecrackers.

“I mean it you two. One more toe out of line…”

“Sorry Uncle Spangles.” Morgan bowed her head.

“It isn’t me you should be apologising to” he said, looking at the 10 year old. She was getting more and more like Tony with each day that passed. He felt a little pang for his brother-in-law as he looked into her brown eyes and took a deep breath, his voice softer when he spoke again “Go and say sorry to Rori, both of you.”

********

“What’s Morgan done?” Pepper asked as Katie headed up to the decking.

Katie snorted “Her and Jamie have been throwing firecrackers.”

Pepper groaned “I’ll have a word…”

“It’s ok… Steve’s sorting it.” Katie shrugged “No biggie, just being kids…”

“I don’t understand how she can be so like Tony when he’s not around.” Pepper said gently.

“Stark DNA.” Katie grinned, “it’s strong.”

Pepper snorted. “Yeah, it must be.”

The two women watched as Steve spoke to the kids, taking the boxes off them before dismissing them. He strode across the lawn, looked up at Katie and gave her a smile before he made his way into the garage to dispose of the offensive ‘weapons’.

“Where did they even get them from?” Pepper asked.

“Bucky” answered Jennifer and Katie the same time. Katie glanced back over the garden, everything seemed to be back to normal. Her eyes fell on Dani who was now stood with one of the other mums that Katie had been speaking to earlier.

“Who’s that?” Jennifer asked.

“Some tramp.” Katie shrugged.

“Her name is Dani.” Pepper snorted “With an I…”

“Was she the last Trashbag you had to take out one morning?” Katie asked. “She mentioned something about that last time I met her and she does look a familiar.”

Pepper snorted. “No…she never got there. Not for the lack of trying. But you’re right, she does look a little like Christine Everhart.”

“Of course…” Katie snorted, “Christine…”

Katie wandered through from the kitchen in her cami and short pyjama set, clutching a bowl of cereal, groaning at the raging headache she was sporting. She was visiting home for a week or so to attend the Apogee Award ceremony in Vegas, which was honouring her brother. Pity he hadn’t actually cared enough to attend himself, instead living it up in the Casino. Obediah had accepted the award for him and then she’d continued drinking with the rest of the party that had turned up…and continued the drinking on the private jet home.  As she shuffled into the living area, she stopped dead looking at the blonde woman, dressed in nothing but one of Tony’s shirts as she sloped around their living area. Another one of Tony’s bimbos that he picked up in Vegas and flown home with them. Said bimbo made her way over to the pad that led to the workshop and pressed a few buttons.

“Hey, Tony?”

“You are not authorized to access this area.” Jarvis said, making her scream and jump. Katie sniggered.

“Jesus.” the woman said.

“No, JARVIS…” Katie spoke loudly and the woman span around. “He runs the house.”

“You must be Katie…”

“And you must be Miss Saturday.” Katie shrugged, sitting on the sofa “Well, for this week anyway…”

“Christine…” she said. “We met last night…”

“Yeah I don’t bother learning names.” Katie shrugged. “They never last long enough for me to give a shit.”

At that point Pepper walked into the room holding up a clothes carrier.

“I’ve got your clothes here. They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you’d like to go.” She said, smiling at the woman.

“You must be the famous Pepper Potts.”

“Indeed I am.” Pepper smiled.

“After all these years, Tony still has you picking up the dry-cleaning.” she commented sarcastically.

“Bitch.” Katie said loudly. Christine looked at her but Pepper simply remained still and smiled, her tone pleasant and even.

“I do anything and everything that Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash.”

At that Katie choked slightly on her cereal and looked up as the smug bint’s smirk slid off her face.

“Will that be all?” Pepper asked.

Christine took the hangar and sidled off.

“Taking out the trash…” Katie grinned “Pepper that was fucking genius!”

Pepper arched an eyebrow.

“Where is my dickhead brother?”

“Where do you think?” Pepper asked.

Katie hummed and put down her empty cereal bowl before she made her way through the door Christine had been trying to unlock and down to Tony’s workshop.

“JARVIS, lower that racket…” she muttered.

“Certainly Miss Stark…” 

The noise dimmed and Tony wheeled round “Please don’t turn down my music” “Good morning to you too.” Katie rolled her eyes “Last night’s conquest has left. Pepper just threw her out.”

“Speaking of which, you are supposed to be halfway around the world right now.” Pepper appeared but Tony wasn’t listening.

“How’d she take it?” He looked at Katie. 

“Like a champ.” she shrugged.

Tony grinned and then turned to Pepper “Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?”

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago.”

“That’s funny, I thought with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there.” Tony quipped sarcastically.

“Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple things before I get you out of the door”

“Doesn’t it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Tony continue and then Pepper’s voice rose.

At that point Katie groaned and decided she needed to go to bed before she split for her own flight home and left them to it. 24 hours later she was back in London, getting the notice from Rhodey that Tony was missing…

Laughter dragged Katie back out of her memory and she wiped her eyes slightly, memories of her brother still hit her hard. She turned to catch the last of Pepper’s explanation about Dani’s ‘antics’ at a Stark Party once to which Jennifer, Emmy and Brooke were all laughing along with as Pepper glanced at Katie.

“What is she doing here anyway?”

“Well, her daughter happens to be Rori’s bestest friend in the whole world.” Katie said, repeating the words Rori used to describe Aurelia her “And of course when I asked a few parents on the invites to join, she jumped at the chance.”

There was a pause as they all continued to watch the woman as she tilted her head back and laughed at something that one of the other mom’s had said.

“Is her hair even real?” Emmy asked suddenly.

“Nope. And neither are her tits…” Jennifer mumbled. “Aint no way she’s had a kid and they’re still…” she grabbed her own breasts and hoisted them up, causing all the women to snigger into their drinks.

“Momma?” Katie spun to look at Rori who was grinning up at her mum.

“Hey sweetie” Katie smiled, crouching down “You ok now?”

Rori nodded “Please can I get a drink?”

“Course you can baby…” Katie smiled “Why don’t you go ask daddy to grab you some of the Princess Punch?”

She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek before she skipped off down the lawn to where Steve was stood with Bucky and Sam. Katie watched as he immediately looked down when Rori tugged at his black jeans. With a huge, genuine smile he swept her up, her legs causing Steve’s sweater to ride up and at the flash of his toned stomach Katie bit her lip.

“Down girl..” Jennifer mumbled and Katie snorted.

“That obvious?”

“You’re not exactly subtle…” Pepper smirked “That’s the Stark in you.”

Behind her she heard Emmy groan before Brooke quipped “Em, not being funny, but your dad is hot.”

“Fuck off.” Emmy shot back as Brooke cackled “That’s disgusting.”

“His best friend ain’t bad either…” Jenifer mused, cocking her head to one side as Bucky reached up to gently ruffle Rori’s hair, and then tilting his head towards her as she reached to do the same to him, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“Eww.” Brooke groaned, and this time it was Emmy’s turn to laugh.

“Speaking of which, where’s Peter?” Katie turned to Emmy.

“He’s dropping May and Happy at the airport and coming down later…” she said, a faint pink tinge on her cheeks. Katie looked at Pepper, the pair of them smiling to one another. Emmy and Peter had been pretty on and off over the last 5 years but seemed to have been going pretty steady over the last 12 months.

“Which reminds me, can you tell Dad and Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee to behave?” Emmy looked at her mum “They’re always teasing Pete…” “That is a right of passage.” Pepper said wisely “Tony was a shit to Steve when he started dating Katie.” “Tony was a shit to Steve way before that.” Katie grinned “But I gotta admit, he was never that pleased about how he found out.” “Which was?” Jennifer looked her.

“He walked in and found us in the kitchen half dressed…” Katie shrugged “Was his own fault, he should have knocked instead of swanning into my apartment like he owned it.” “Yeah, I don’t…” Emmy started before she shook her head “Shut up!”

“Erm, where are you two off to?” Katie heard Pepper say and she looked up to see Morgan and Jamie half in, half out of the kitchen door.

“The den Auntie Pep.” Jamie answered. “Gonna go watch a film.”

“Least you can’t cause any trouble in there…yes, I heard.” Pepper said sternly “Another toe out of line Morgan H Stark and I’ll take you home.”

“Sorry Mom…” she said, and Pepper dismissed her.

Katie smiled again and her attention turned back to the party. She glanced over the garden and was just about to head down to mingle again, not wanting to leave the rest of the parents feeling awkward when a certain blonde haired tramp caught her attention. She watched her for a moment as she walked over to Steve and then stiffened slightly as she touched his arm, but then she stepped way over the line.

“Oh hell no bitch…” Katie’s eyes narrowed as she saw Dani kiss Steve’s cheek.

“Kick her ass mom…” Emmy mumbled.

“Hold my beer…” Katie said, before she paused “Actually, on second thoughts… I’ll take the beer with me…”

“$50 dollars says Trashbag is leaving here in a box…” Brooke quipped. Pepper, Jennifer and Emmy all sniggered.

********

After getting Rori a glass of punch and retrieving another 3 beers for him, Sam and Bucky, Steve headed back across the lawn, Rori still following him.

“Daddy…” she spoke again.

“Yeah?” he looked at her.

“What are tits?”

Steve choked on his beer and heard Sam’s guffawing laughter from the side of him, punctuated by Bucky’s snorts.

“Ermmm…” Steve wiped at his sweater where his beer had slopped down the front and racked his brains “They’re a type of bird…” The laugher and snorts grew even louder. Steve looked at Rori who was frowning before she shook her head “Why would Aurelia’s mommy have fake birds?”

At that Sam began to cough, and Steve looked at him. He was doubled over, slapping his knees. Bucky was wiping his eyes and gave Steve a thumbs up. “Fake birds, I can’t…”  Bucky’s hand fell to Sam’s back as the pair of them continued to laugh.

“I don’t know…” Steve looked at Rori. “Who said that anyway?”

“Jennifer.” she said, and Steve rolled his eyes and glanced over at his wife who was stood, looking out over the garden. “Well Jennifer is just being silly.” Steve looked back at Rori “Don’t worry about it.”

Rori accepted his answer and ran off.

“You can stop laughing now.” he turned to his friends.

“Man, I love your kids.” Bucky said as Sam straightened up, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah well right now they’re behaving better than their mother.” Steve frowned.

“I dare you to say that to her face.” Bucky smirked “And whilst you’re at it, you can tell Jennifer you think she’s silly…”

Steve shook his head “I’m quite attached to my balls thanks, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Good luck with that…” Sam said, “Blonde haired real estator at 12 o’clock.”

Steve let out a silent groan, he really didn’t need this.

“Steve…” he felt an hand on his arm.

“Yeah?” he turned to face Dani, polite as always.

“I’m sorry about before,I didn’t want to get the kids into trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve shrugged “Jamie and Morgan are a handful together.”

Dani laughed, and then stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. Steve hadn’t seen that coming. He stepped away slightly and gave her a smile as she looked at him.

“Well, Aurelia was really upset so thank you for sorting it out…”

“Wife…6 o’clock…” Bucky mumbled. But he needn’t have bothered, Steve knew his wife was behind him even before she slipped her arms round his waist, the hand that wasn’t clutching the beer bottle gently slipping under his black sweater, rubbing his stomach softly. He smiled to himself, knowing full well she was here to make a point, and gently placed his large hand over hers.

“Hey beautiful.” he said softly and Katie felt that fire in her belly light even more at his soft words.

“Hey…” she mumbled, pressing her face into his back, gently kissing between his shoulder blades through his sweater before she moved and slid into the space under his arm, placing herself between him and Dani. Steve rolled his eyes at his wife’s passive aggressive display of possessiveness and glanced at Sam who was grinning ear to ear, watching the exchange.

“You know, Mrs Rogers…” Dani smiled at Katie, ”I was just wondering if we were past the formalities of using our surnames now seeing as our daughters are inseparable? ”

She started to laugh and Katie continued to smile before she replied “Nope, I’m good with Mrs Rogers thanks.

Sam started to cough, which was clearly to cover up a laugh. Steve looked at him to see him smirking ear to ear.

“How’s your husband?” Katie looked Dani. “I don’t see him…”

“We’re not together anymore.” Dani said, her smile faltering slightly

“Oh, sorry to her that.” Katie replied, although her tone said otherwise “Guess he wasn’t a fan of you touching what doesn’t belong to you either.”

Dani’s face slipped, but luckily for her one of the other mom’s called her name and she excused herself. Katie watched her go before she felt Steve move his arm from her shoulders.

“That was mean.” he looked at Katie, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff…” Katie shrugged.

“You’re a fucking brat.” Steve said sternly, his face displaying no humour. Katie was completely unabashed by his tone and shrugged again

“I warned her last time I’d snap her hand off. She got off lightly.”

With that she turned and walked back towards Pepper and Jennifer. Steve watched her go, his face flushed with anger at her childish display.

“Damned…” Bucky whistled out. “I know you said she could be vicious, Steve, but wow…”

“I think that’s called marking your territory.” Sam quipped as Steve shook his head, the nerve in his jaw twitching.

“It’s called being rude.” He said, before he drained his beer and tossed the empty into one of the recycling tubs by the table “Scuse me fellas, I need to go have a word with my wife…” Bucky and Sam watched as he strode across the lawn, hand pushing his hair back off his face. He reached Katie, acknowledge the women before he gently wrapped his hand around her arm and bent to speak into her ear. She looked at him, frowned, and then allowed him to lead her inside.

“So now they’re gonna have a row and then angry sex, right?” Bucky looked at Sam. Sam nodded.

“Totally…shall we join the ladies?”

“Good idea.” Bucky agreed.

*******

“Uh oh Dad’s approaching…” Emmy said to her mum.

“Is he pissed?” Katie asked, grimacing slightly. As soon as he’d chastised her before she knew he wouldn’t leave it there and she was going to get a lecture about her attitude.

“He’s wearing his Captain’s face…” Emmy wrinkled her nose.

“Shit…”

“A word, inside now…” Steve’s voice was quiet, calm and level as he gently gripped Katie’s arm, but she recognised the icy tone it carried. Frowning slightly, she let him take her hand as he led her inside and through to the lounge. Steve shut the door behind him and Katie watched him, cocking her head to the side.

“Was there any need for that?” he said looking at her.

“For what?”

“You know damned well what.” he said, his voice still low as he raised an eyebrow “What you said to Dani, it was rude.”

“Whatever.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me…”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m one of the kids…” she shot back, her voice slightly louder.

“Well stop acting like one of them.” Steve’s hands dropped to his hips. “The dig about her husband was awful, you do realise he cheated on her right?”

Katie’s face slipped a little “No, I didn’t…but, hang on, how do you know that?”

“She told me, the other week when I dropped Aurelia off home.”

“Oh so you’re like friends now, she confiding in you?”  Katie’s tone was steely.

“No, she just mentioned that she was grateful for us having Aurelia because she’d had an appointment with the solicitor. So maybe, just maybe you should think about apologising.”

“Piss off…” Katie laughed in disbelief. “She kissed you on the cheek…”

“And?” Steve frowned “You forget that plenty of guys do that to you…”

“My or our friends, yeah. She is NOT my friend Steve…”

“Do you seriously feel that threatened by her you have to be so downright nasty?”

“I’m not threatened…look, like I said before, I told her last time she touched my stuff again and I’d snap her wrist. She got off lightly.”

Steve shook his head at his wife, he loved the bones of this woman but sometimes her behaviour drove him up the wall. She could be so petty and obtuse it was ridiculous.

Rogers by name, Stark by nature.

There was a tense silence which Katie broke.

“Are we arguing still?”

Steve sighed “I’m not arguing with you, I’m just pointing out I think you were out of line. If you don’t think you were then that’s your prerogative.” Katie hummed, before she grinned and looked at him “Wanna go fuck in the Camero like last time?”

Steve shook his head, she was unbelievable.

“No.” he said simply, turning to open the door. But Katie wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Shame, because I’m not wearing any panties.”

Ok so that got Steve’s attention. He let out an inward groan as frankly, that sex they’d had in the garage after the previous Dani incident had been hot as fuck but no, he wasn’t giving in here. What was it she always told the kids? “Actions have consequences”

Damned right they do sweetheart.

He turned back to face her, his back pressing to the door as he glanced down at his hands, the sleeves on his sweater were rolled up slightly exposing his forearms. He raised his gaze to meet that of his wife’s and damned, he nearly caved, because she really did turn him on more than she would ever know. But right now, he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

He sighed and repeated his earlier statement to her “Such a fucking brat.” before he turned and walked out of the room.

Katie remained where she was, stunned. For the first time ever, in their 16 years of being together she had failed to seduce her man.

Part 2

#stark spangled forever #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

[cedriccullen00]

i’m yours.

“No way, absolutely not.” Sam shook his head as Emily held up a tight latex dress. We decided that a shopping trip was needed so we invited our mates, worst decision ever. “Oh c’mon Sam. I think she’ll look hot in it.” I said examining the dress and Emily smirked. “I mean of course she’ll look hot in it it’s just I don’t need people gawking at my imprint.” he said shaking his head and I shrugged. “To bad, she was blessed with looks. It’s a yes from me.” I said starring at him, if he was a cartoon character steam would be coming out of his ears. “Two against one, ‘fraid you lost this one love.” she said looking up at her fiancé. “I hate you L/N.” Sam muttered and I laughed. “I think you should get one too.” Emily said looking from Sam to me and I stopped laughing. “You’re kidding right?” I said and she shook her head. “C’mon Y/N, get one. You know you’ll look amazing in that red one.” she said pointing over to where she got hers. “Em I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” I mumbled eyeing the dress. “I agree with her. It’s not a good idea.” Jacob said from beside me shaking his head. Emily looked up at Sam for some help and he smiled. “I think you should get it to. Emily can only get hers if you get one.” he said looking down at me. “That’s not fair! I don’t like tight things and you know that!” I whispered shouted at the pair. “Sam.....you’re evil.” Jacob muttered and it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. Sam knew I wouldn’t get it meaning Emily would get hers. I looked up at Jake who looked upset and to Emily who was beaming. “Fine.” I said before striding across the stood to the dresses. “Babe, no.” Jacob said following close behind me. “Babe , yes! You rock!” Emily squealed following us. I grabbed the dress off the rack and turned around bumping into Jacob. “Don’t worry, I won’t wear it around anyone but you.” I whispered winking at him and he chuckled shaking his head. “Alright I have an idea. Sam and I will go to the food court and get us all something to eat and then we’ll find you.” Jacob said as Emily and Same reached us. “Sounds good to me.” Emily said and Sam nodded. “Here I’ll give you all some money.” I said reaching into my back pocket. “Don’t. It’s on us, c’mon Sam.” Jacob said probably just ready to leave the small store. Emily and I laughed at our spouses and went to pay.

“Alright now to Victoria Secret.” Emily said grabbing my hand and dragging me to the store. “Do I even wanna know?” I mumbled and she laughed a little. “I just need some new bras, get your head out of the gutter nasty.” she said and I chuckled. We walked into the store and she began to look around while I went to smell the perfumes. I sprayed one on the back of my hand and sniffed it, I wrinkled my nose at the unpleasant sent. “Hey, Y/N come here real quick.” Emily called and I sat the perfume down walking back to her. I got to her and she was holding up two bras one black and one white, they were both lacey and I knew she had ideas in mind. “If I have to pick I’d say white, it’ll stand out beautifully against your skin.” I said and she nodded. “Alright good. Pick a set out, might as well.” she said and I shrugged walking around the table. I found a dark blue set and smiled a little, Jacobs favorite color was dark blue it would be a shame if I didn’t get it. “That ones pretty, I love the color.” a voice came from beside me and I turned to see a tall brunette boy beside me. “Oh erm yeah, it’s a pretty color.” I said picking up the set awkwardly. “I bet it would look really good on you.” he said moving closer to me and I backed up a little. “Yeah I bet my boyfriend would agree with you.” I snapped and he smirked. “Feisty one you are.” he mumbled more to himself than me. “C’mon babe, let me take you out and then after I can see how it looks on you.” he said and I scoffed before walking away to Emily. “Here.” I mumbled handing them to her and getting my wallet out. “Ooo Jacobs favorite color.” she said wiggling her eyebrows and I nodded handing her my card. “Pay for me will you?” I asked and she nodded. I walked out of the store quickly but I knew that stupid boy was following me. I was about to go and find Jacob when the boy grabbed my wrist. “Why the rush?” he asked still smirking and I tried to get my hand back. “I’m looking for my boyfriend.” I growled. “You don’t need him, you have me.” he said and I finally got my hand back. I took my hand and punched him square in the face. “Take the hint jackass! I’ve got a boyfriend and I don’t need you!” I yelled and I heard footsteps advancing towards me. “Babe hey what’s the problem?” Jacob asked getting closer to me. “Oh you must be the boyfriend. I’m sorry but she wants me now.” they said smugly and Jacob began to shake a little bit. “Would you shut up for gods sake!” I hissed and the boy went to grab my waist, he was stopped by Jacob punching him way harder than I did. The boy feel to the ground holding his face as Jacobs shaking increased. Sam appeared and grabbed Jacobs arms “We’ll meet you at your house.” he said and I nodded meeting Jacobs eyes that seemed incredibly dark. They softened a little when he looked at me but Sam still pulled him out of the crowded mall. I looked at the boy on the ground and frowned. “Bitch.” I spat before walking towards Victoria Secret. Emily was walking out when I reached and she smiled. “Got them, here’s your card.” she said and I grabbed it as tears built in my eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked all motherly and I sighed. “I’ll explain in the car, we have to go.” I whispered and she nodded.

I pulled into my driveway and Emily shook her head. “Some men just disgust me.” she growled and I sighed. “Yeah same here.” I whispered. I grabbed my bags and she grabbed hers, I locked the car and walked up to the house. I opened the door slowly and walked in kicking off my shoes Emily doing the same. “We’re home.” I announced placing my bags on the floor. “Our back!” Sams voice came and Emily sighed. “You know he’s going to be a mess right?” she whispered and I nodded. “Send Sam in. We’ll leave and I’ll call you later.” she said and I turned to her giving her a hug. “Alright. I had fun today well besides everything towards the end.” I mumbled and she nodded. “Me too. Love you Y/N.” she said as I walked towards the back. “Love you Em.” I replied. I walked out the back door to see Jacob pacing and Same leaning against the tree. “Hey Emilys waitin gb for you her car.” I said as Same kicked off the tree. “Alright. See you later Y/N.” he said as he walked over and patted my shoulder. He walked inside and it didn’t take long for Emily’s car to start and pull out of the driveway. “Jacob...” I said softly and his head snapped toward me. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” I said and he nodded walking toward me. He stopped in front of me and I wrapped my arms around his middle he quickly reacted by wrapping his arms tightly around me. Jacob struggles with insicurities from his past with Bella and Edward so when something like this happens he breaks. A strangled son left his lips and I rubbed his back. “C’mon darling let’s go in.” I whispered pulling back and he nodded. We walked inside and he took his shoes off not wanting to track dirt in. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” he whispered before hurrying off. It broke my heart seeing him like this, he didn’t deserve it.

I walked in our shared room and he was was under the covers looking out the window. “Wanna talk?” I asked in a whisper and he shrugged. “Did you really consider giving him your number?” he asked as I walked over to my side of the bed. “Of course not Jake. I have all I need and that’s you.” I said climbing in beside him. “There’s no need to lie.” he mumbled as I threw the covers over me. “Come here Jake.” I whispered and he moved so he was laying on my chest. I ran my hand through his black hair knowing it calmed him down. “Jacob I’m your imprint right?” I asked and he nodded. “As an imprint I still have the power to say no but I didn’t. Tell me what I did when you first asked me out.” he chuckled a little. “You screamed out of excitement. Then you jumped on me and began to laugh, I thought you were drunk.” he said and I nodded. “You’re mine Jacob Black and I’m yours. I’d never leave you for anything.” I mumbled kissing the top of his head and he smirked up at me. “So your saying if young Leonardo DiCaprio asked you out you’d say no.” he said and I laughed awkwardly. “Well....”I said and he shook his head. “But seriously Jake I wanted you, I wanted your attitude, your love, your humor, and eventually I want your last name.” I mumbled still playing with his hair. He looked up at me eyes glowing and a smile painted on his face. “Really?!” he asked and I nodded. “Just say when Black. Do you feel better?” I asked and he nodded. He took his right hand and cupped my face as he pulled himself up and kissed me. We both smiled into the kiss, I knew I made him feel better. After a second he leaned back and laid his head on mine. “I love you Jacob Black.” I mumbled and he smiled. “I love you too Y/N Black.” he said winking at me and I began laughing while shaking my head. “You’re insane.” I said in between laughs and he smiled kissing my cheek before snuggling his head into my neck.

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black imagine #twilight one shot

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

And onto the next chapter. Thanks for your support for this story, it means a lot to me.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

Hope you enjoy the next chapter

AO3

Previous

Chapter 8: From Dresses to Disco

I don’t have a huge wardrobe but, generally, I can lay hands on an outfit for most situations. For work, if I’m not in scrubs, I tend to wear plain black trousers and a shirt; for relaxing, I have more than enough jeans, leggings and comfy sweaters; for holidays, I have the usual range of shorts, t-shirts and sundresses.

I realise as I flick through the hangers in my wardrobe that what I am missing are outfits in the ‘dinner-dance-purely-platonic-plus-one’ category. And, what’s more, I don’t actually know how formal this thing is going to be.

Jamie was no use at all when I spoke to him about it.

“What sort of thing will your sister be wearing?” I asked as we met for coffee and a bacon sandwich two days ago.

“I dinna ken. A dress?” He hazarded a guess, looking a bit perplexed that I would even ask him.

“Long or short?” I persisted.

“Yes.”

“Well, which? Long or short?”

“Aye, one of them.”

“What are you wearing then... kilt? Black tie? Lounge suit?” This might give me a clue as to the dress code.

“I dare say I’ll be wearing a suit and tie.”

And that was as much assistance as I got from him.

I make the decision to go short. Partly because I don’t want to feel overdressed on Saturday, but mainly because the only long dress I have in my possession was purchased for a university Medics’ ball in 2008. And it’s crinkly satin with a side split and a wide leather belt that went with an over the top diamanté headband around my forehead.

Obviously, I will never wear it again, but I’m loath to part with it anyway. It reminds me of my time at university. Plus, it may come in handy… for a fancy dress party perhaps?

********

Geillis has decided, on the spur of the moment, to ‘jes’ pop ‘round fer a wee glass of wine’. That’s just a cover. What she actually wants is a ‘wee glass of wine’ while supervising my dress selection.

She takes a sip and reclines on my bed, casting a critical eye as I pull a few dresses out of my wardrobe and lay them next to her.  She’s not giving much away as she continues to study them.

“Well?” I stand at the end of the bed and stare at her, waiting for her comments.

“I canna give ye ma answer ‘till I’ve seen them all,” she replies.

“That’s it. That’s all my fancy evening dresses.”

She stares at me in disbelief, before gazing once more at the three dresses displayed on the bed.

“Ye dinna have any more cocktail dresses, then?”

I shake my head. “‘Fraid not. When I go cocktail drinking, I tend to wear something more casual. There’s not a great call for fancy frocks when it’s two for one cocktails at the ‘Slug and Lettuce’.”

She sighs very loudly and grimaces. We’ve had these conversations often enough over the years. She despairs about my lack of interest in fashion. It’s true, I can’t tell a Marc Jacobs from a Marks and Spencer. Well, I possibly could, but you get my drift. I tried to be fashionable back in 2008 and look where it got me— wearing a dress that resembled a sweetie wrapper with a headband that brought me out in a rash.

I sometimes wonder if the real reason that she has asked me to be a bridesmaid has less to do with being best friends and more to do with being able to control what I’m going to wear. I’m joking of course, it’s because we’re best friends— Geillis choosing my dress is just an added perk for her.

“So, I think ye wear this one.” She gets up, moves me to one side and quickly rifles through the wardrobe, giving a cry of triumph as she finds what she’s looking for.

I knew it—I knew she would remember that dress. She was with me when I bought it— a late night Sauvignon Blanc fuelled online purchase. She describes it as my “hello boys” dress. I’ve never worn it and this is not the occasion for its inaugural outing.

I mean, it’s a lovely dress— black with an off the shoulder bardot neckline and very, very form fitting. But totally not the message I want to send to Jamie.

I shake my head. “Nope… no way. Not that one.”

I point instead to a dress lying on the bed, originally bought for a hospital fundraiser last year. It’s very nice and infinitely more suitable— black with sparkly red splodges; a slight v neck and fitted bodice going into a flared skirt. It even has pockets.

Geillis raises her hands in exasperation. “Fine. Have it yer way. But, Claire, do ye no’ want tae mebbe try it?”

I grab the dress from her and stuff it back in the wardrobe, ignoring her last comment. But she doesn’t give up so easily.

“See what could happen, eh?”

I turn to face her. “I know what could happen. He’ll think that I’m after him and that I’ll be it. End of friendship.”

“But mebbe—“

I interrupt her. “No maybe about it. Besides all this is missing the point. I want Jamie in my life as a friend, the same way that you and Mary and Anna are in my life. I don’t want anything more from him. I don’t need any romance. Can you understand that?”

“Aye but—“

She’s still not willing to drop the subject and I’ve had enough. I drain my glass of wine and start to walk out of the bedroom.

“No buts. That’s it. Just drop it, please.” At the doorway, I pause. “Now, do you want another glass?”

She starts to follow me. “Of course. And sorry,Claire, I dinna mean tae annoy ye. It’s jes’—“ she stops herself before saying anymore.

“Ok... Shall we order a takeaway,then?”

As I head into the living room, with Geillis following, I’m pretty sure I can hear her muttering under her breath about taking chances.

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

Jamie said he would pick me up at seven. I’m clearly still working on Frank time, as I’m ready with fifteen minutes to spare. I perch on the edge of a chair, trying not to crease my dress, smudge my mascara or run my fingers through my hair.

I must admit, I have enjoyed the whole formal dressing up process. It’s not something I do too often— my socialising tends to be of a more relaxed nature. But this makes a welcome change.

With five minutes to spare, the bell rings. I gather up my pashmina and clutch bag and make my way downstairs, my high heeled sandals making a clacking sound against the old floor tiles.

Jamie is waiting outside, next to his old french blue Triumph Stag sports car. Like he said, he’s wearing a suit—dark grey instead of his usual navy blue. Still with a white shirt and a rust coloured paisley tie. His auburn curls nestle against his jacket collar. He looks immaculate.

In a parody of a chauffeur, he touches his forelock, bows and opens the passenger door for me. “M’lady,” he adds with his customary half grin.

“Thank you, Parker,” I reply primly and arrange my skirt under me as he scoots around to the driver side.

I do like this car. It’s old, a bit threadbare in places and smells slightly of damp. But it positively oozes vintage style and glamour. Fortunately the hardtop is on as the clouds are gathering ominously overhead.

“I thought we were getting a taxi. Are you not drinking?” I ask as he starts to drive.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he snorts with laughter. “No’ drinking? What kind of rugby ‘do’ d’ye think this is? No, I’ll leave the car at the club and we can get a taxi, if that’s ok wi’ ye.”

We drive on in silence for a couple of miles. Not an awkward silence, just a we-don’t-really-have-to -make-small-talk kind of silence.

“I’d have thought you’d be wearing a kilt tonight.” I comment.

“Hmm, weel, I do like tae wear it fer special occasions, but, when the rugby lads get together, who kens what can happen. Trousers tend tae be the safer option.”

“You could always wear underpants,” I suggest.

He looks horrified at the suggestion. “Dinna be saying that tae a true Scot, Sassenach.”

“I consider myself suitably chastised.”

“Glad ye realise that.” He smiles and changes the subject totally. “Sae, on our table this evening, there’ll be ma sister Jenny and her husband Ian, and Rupert, ye ken Rupert, and his wife Morag.”

“Oh, so you know Rupert— outside of work, I mean.”

“Aye, we grew up together. And Ian too. Mind, he was a couple of years older than Rupert and me— same age as Jenny—and always used tae follow her around like a wee pup. I’ve only known Morag a couple of years though. She’s nice but verra quiet. She lets Rupert do most of the talking.”

“I liked Rupert.”

“He’s a great bloke. Best decision I made, asking him tae join me at FraserFoods. Ian’s a great bloke too. Ye’ll like him.”

Jamie pulls the car into the rugby club car park,  and switches the engine off. He sits still for a moment, staring through the windscreen. I can hear music coming from the large marquee lit up with lanterns and residing on one of the rugby pitches. Even though it’s early in the evening, there’s plenty of raucous laughter coming from that direction too. No doubt the bar has already seen plenty of action.

“Well?” I elbow him in the ribs.

“Sorry. I was jes’ thinking about how best tae describe Jenny.” He turns and smiles. “She’s the best sister a chap could want and a true friend— once she gets tae know ye. She can be a wee bit, shall we say, prickly, at first. And she thinks she kens what’s best fer me, as only a big sister can. She thinks ma life is no’ complete… no’ wi’out a wife and a couple of bairns.”

“Have you explained that this isn’t a date… that we’re friends?”

“Aye, I’ve told her that,” he gives a little laugh and nods his head towards the marquee.  “Sae she’ll most likely be in there right now scouring the place fer any suitable contenders.”

He gets out of the car and is at the passenger door before I’ve had a chance to unfasten my seatbelt and gather my pashmina around my shoulders.

“M’lady,” resuming the chauffeur role, he opens the door for me.

I clamber out, somewhat ungainly and wait as he locks the car. Even with my highest heels on, I still have to crane my neck to look at him as he stands up straight and adjusts his jacket.

“Shall we?” He gestures the marquee with his hand.

“God, yes. I could do with a gin and tonic. I’m parched.” Plus, I reckon I need a stiff drink or two down my throat before I meet Jenny. She sounds formidable.

“C’mon then.” And he leads the way into the marquee.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fan fic #just a friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 8

[musecharm-writes]

Bad Influence, Pt 2 (Steve Harrington X Reader)

Summary: Jonathan, Robin, Steve, and Nancy find out more about what happened at Melvald’s; you have your first shift at the general store.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

When Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin head to the Byers’ later that night, Joyce is there, making herself a sandwich and smoking a cigarette in the kitchen.

“Jonathan, sweetie? That you?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Jonathan replies. “Nancy, Steve, and Robin are here, too.”

Joyce appears around the corner, a look of surprise on her face. “Oh! Hey, guys! Sorry, if I had known you were coming I would’ve cooked dinner, or--or gotten take-out, or something. Will is over at Dustin’s tonight so I was expecting it to just be me and Jonathan--” She cuts herself off to take a pull from her cigarette.

“That’s okay, Ms Byers, me and Robin were gonna get pizza later,” Steve says politely. He’s always been good with parents, moms especially, and for whatever reason Joyce seems to like him. 

He assumes that Jonathan has never breathed a word to her about all the shit Steve used to put her son through, otherwise he’d probably be eating all his meals through a straw to this very day.

“Hey, Mom,” Jonathan begins, in a characteristically unsubtle fashion, “we were wondering if we could ask you about something.”

Joyce smiles, somewhat unsurely. “Okay,” she says, with a nervous little laugh, “ask away.”

Jonathan and Nancy share a look before Nancy says, “We were wondering if you knew anything about what happened at Melvald’s earlier today?”

Joyce’s eyebrows draw together, a furrow appearing like magic on a face that Steve privately thought looked too young for all the stress Joyce Byers carries with her. “How do you all know about that?”

“Steve and Robin saw it,” Jonathan says.

“Uh, technically only I saw it,” Steve corrected. “I’m still not quite sure what it was all about, though, we were too far away.”

Joyce nods slowly, her lips pursed thoughtfully. “Well… I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to tell you. Technically, I’m supposed to keep it kind of a secret.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Nancy says, and Steve can tell she’s trying her absolute best to look innocent and wide-eyed. “We’re very curious, is all. And, honestly, a little worried that something bad is happening again.”

Clever play, Nance. They weren’t worried there was another impending apocalypse -- not really. She’s just trying to appeal to Joyce’s instinct to comfort.

Sure enough, it works; that furrow in Joyce’s brow deepens as her conflicted expression melts into a look of concern. “Oh, honey, no. It’s nothing like that.” She bites her lip, mulling it over for a moment, before she says, “Okay, if I tell you, you all have to promise you’ll keep it quiet, okay?”

They all give various answers in the affirmative.

“Someone -- a teenager, around your age -- tried to steal a carton of cigarettes from Melvald’s. I spotted them right as they slipped it into their pocket and started to walk away. Powell and Callahan happened to be there, stopping by on their way to the station, so they took the kid in.”

“Seriously? They tried to steal cigarettes?” Nancy asks, her nose wrinkling with her distaste. “God, that’s so stupid. I’m glad you caught them.”

Joyce sighs. “I feel a little bad for getting them in trouble. It seems like it’s just a case of a good kid making bad choices. I mean, I remember myself at that age…” She shakes her head, taking another drag from her cigarette. She walks over to the coffee table and flicks ash into the ashtray.

“I mean, you did the right thing though, right? Just because they’re some mixed up kid doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have to learn from their mistakes just like anyone else,” Steve says.

Everyone, save for Joyce, turns to look at him.

“...Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Robin puts a hand on his shoulder. “Probably because that’s the most intelligent thing that’s ever come out of your mouth,” she says, giving his shoulder a little pat.

“Hey!” Steve exclaims, but everyone else is laughing, and he can’t help but smile.

Even though he knows it can’t possibly be true, because he says intelligent stuff all the time.

--

The morning of your first shift at Melvald’s begins with your alarm clock, which you set the night before to go off at five. Unfortunately, it never actually went off; unbeknownst to you, one of the breakers had tripped in the middle of the night, which reset your alarm clock.

You wake up from a blissful sleep and roll over to see the blinking red 12:00 . For a second, you don’t comprehend what you’re looking at, and then when it sinks in, you scramble out of bed so frantically that you go tumbling to the ground, tangled in the sheets, yelling, “SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

You get ready faster than you ever have in your life, skipping breakfast and brushing your teeth in the kitchen sink while tugging on your clothes. As soon as you’re ready, you’re flying out the door, grabbing your bike, and peeling down the road that will bring you to Downtown Hawkins. You count your lucky stars that the only drivers out this early are the people driving to work.

When you get to Melvald’s, you chain your bike up at the bike rack and blow through the door like a hurricane, your cheeks bright red with exertion and your blood rushing in your ears. The tinkling of the bell over the door is almost mocking in its gentleness.

The store is almost completely empty except for a single woman in a uniform vest who appears to be pricing items. She looks over at you; you recognise her as Joyce Byers, the woman who caught you stealing the cigarettes.

“Oh! Hey,” she says, sounding surprised to see you.

“I’m so-- so sorry,” you pant, walking forward a bit to lean on the counter. “My… My alarm... didn’t go off, and I--”

She waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. You’re actually early.”

You pause, your chest heaving, looking at her in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yep. By about…” She looks at a clock behind the counter. “Fifteen minutes, give or take.”

You let your head loll against your back. “So I skipped breakfast for nothing.”

Joyce smiled sympathetically. “‘Fraid so. Sorry. If it makes you feel better, Hop’ll definitely be happy about it.”

And, embarrassingly enough, it does make you feel a little better.

You’d like to say your first day on the job goes pretty well.

You’d like to say that, but if you did, it would be a lie.

It starts with the pricing gun, which miraculously stops working moments after Joyce leaves you to your task. She assures you that it’s just because the damn thing is so old and Gary refuses to replace it because of how expensive they are, which makes you feel a little better, but part of you still feels as though you broke it despite her reassurance.

Then, when Joyce offers you a break to go and grab lunch for the two of you from the diner, you almost lose the money she gives you thanks to a hole in your pocket that you hadn’t even realised was there. Thankfully, you’re able to make it with the cash still in hand, but the incident makes you so nervous that on the way back to the store you almost drop everything multiple times.

When you finally make it back, the store is unusually busy, so you’re forced to stow the paper take-out bags under the counter as Joyce attempts to teach you how to use the register. You frantically memorise as much as you can, and are somehow able to make it through the rush without missing a beat, but by the time it’s over and the two of you are able to take a load off, your lunch is stone cold.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Joyce, staring dejectedly at your cold fries. “I don’t know why I’m having such a shitty day today. I’m trying so hard but it feels like everything is going wrong.”

Joyce shakes her head. “Hey, no. It’s okay. Sometimes, you just have bad luck, no matter how hard you try. It’s not your fault.” She places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes.

You wonder why she’s being so nice to you, but you can’t work up the nerve to ask. Instead, you ask if there’s a microwave you can use to heat up the food.

Toward the end of your shift at around 12:30, Joyce calls you over from where you’ve been organising a window display and says, “Hey, would you mind going into the back and grabbing the boxes that have ‘ballpoint’ and ‘pencil - yellow’ written on them? I need to restock.”

“I’ll do it for you!” You blurt out. You can feel your cheeks flushing.

“Oh,” Joyce says, raising her eyebrows at you. “Okay. Uh, I’ll show you where they go and then that’ll be the last thing you have to do before I let you go for the day. Okay?”

You nod, too flustered to speak. You need Joyce to like you for reasons you aren’t totally sure of, and you hope with every part of you that you aren’t being too obvious.

Joyce walks you through restocking the shelves and then sends you on your way to retrieve the boxes from storage. They’re bigger than you thought they would be considering they’re just boxes of pens and pencils, but you guess it makes sense, since it’s not like the boxes are full of individual pencils and pens. There are three of them, standard sized cardboard boxes; you lift each one and find that you could probably carry two at a time, if you were careful. You stack the two boxes of pencils on top of each other on the ground, squat, and lift them up with a grunt of effort.

Now that you’re holding them, you realise it’s a little hard to see around the boxes. You have to angle your head awkwardly to peer around one side, which leaves you with a pretty big blind spot. You guess you’ll just have to trust that any customers nearby will be smart enough to stay out of the way.

You’ve made it almost all the way to the correct shelf before tragedy strikes again.

You glance down at the ground to make sure that there’s nothing you could trip over or slip on, and as you’re adjusting your grip on the bottom box, you hear a voice coming near you.

“--And stop nagging me! You’re not my mother, Buckley!”

Shortly following this is a shout of, “Steve! Watch where you’re--!”

You look up right in time to slam into someone.

The boxes fly right out of your hands. Boxes of yellow Ticonderoga pencils go flying, scattering across the floor. Some of the boxes even come open and pencils go rolling every which way. You end up flat on your ass in the middle of it all.

For a moment, you stare at the boxes of pencils all over the floor, gobsmacked. Once you’re able to tear your eyes away from the mess, you look up to find Steve Harrington looking down at you with his eyes as wide as dinner plates, but not one strand of hair out of place.

The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. Then, Harrington opens his mouth.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” he babbles, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the stray boxes and escaped pencils. “That was an accident, uh-- shit, I swear I’m not usually this much of a klutz. I’m sorry, please, lemme help--”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, somewhat dejected. You’re probably going to have to stay after your shift ends to finish picking all this up and do what you promised Joyce. You glance at the clock and find your theory is confirmed, to your dismay. “I can handle it. It’s my job.”

“No, really, I…” He pauses after a moment, squinting at you. “Wait. Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

He has. The two of you went to school together for, like, your entire lives. That’s not what he means, though; he recognises you from yesterday, when he watched you get patted down and shoved in a cop car after making the dumbest mistake you’ve ever made in your life.

“We went to the same school for twelve years,” you say stiffly. Like hell are you gonna remind him if he actually forgot.

“...Oh,” he replies awkwardly. “Uh. Sorry. But, no, I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere else. Did you used to hang out at the mall? I used to work there. Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “Wait! I got it! You’re the one who got arrested yesterday, right?”

Before you can answer, a girl you vaguely recognise as being a high schooler a couple of years your junior appears at Harrington’s side, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him with surprising strength and an almost enraged expression.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She hisses at him, before turning to you with a sunny smile. “I’m so sorry about him, he’s chronically stupid. We’re going to go before he says another dumb thing, right , Steve?” She has him by the ear, now, and you have to admit it’s kind of funny; she’s a couple of inches shorter than him, so he has to bend down to keep her from tearing his ear off.

“OW! Yes , Robin, jesus! Let go of me, I’m leaving!”

As you watch them go, you can’t help but feel disappointed. You’d kind of wanted someone to help you pick up the pencils.

--

When Robin and Steve are outside of Melvald’s, Robin finally lets go of Steve’s ear, saying, “Steve, what have we talked about? About thinking before we speak?”

Steve scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m trying. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “I know, dummy. I had to learn it, too.” She sticks her hands in her pockets and glances back into the general store through the front window. “So, what was your angle with that whole spiel back there?”

Steve blanches. “What?”

“I mean , you’re not just nice to people for no reason all the time, even if you did something to them. So why were you being such a hardcore nice guy?”

Steve opens his mouth to say something and realises he doesn’t have any clue how to respond. He crosses his arms and shrugs, flustered. “I dunno. Maybe I just felt like it. What’s it to you?”

He starts to walk away, tired of the conversation, and Robin comes trotting after him, still yapping right in his ear. (He pretends to be annoyed, but honestly, his heart feels full to the brim with love for Robin. Before her, nobody has ever chased after him before.)

“Uh, you’re my best friend, dumb-dumb! That’s what it is to me! My nose belongs stuck right in your business!” She catches up to him and runs around to plant herself in his path, grinning broadly. “So, tell me what it is that has you so riled up.”

Steve gapes at her for a moment before shrugging again. “...I don’t know.”

Robin arcs a brow at him. “Seriously? You’re still not gonna tell me?”

“Robin, c’mon, I’m telling you I have no idea ,” Steve insists. He sighs, and lowers his voice. “Look, I just felt this weird… Urge to stay and talk? And picking up the mess that I caused anyway seemed like a good excuse at the time. Until I stuck my foot in my mouth, that is,” he sighs.

Robin gasps. “Steven Janine Harrington--”

“Not my name.”

“--Do you have a CRUSH?”

Steve feels his entire body burst into flames. He looks around frantically, saying, “Will you keep your voice down?”

Robin’s face takes on an expression of pure glee. “So you do! Oh my god, I didn’t think you were capable. So, are you going to pursue anything? Or are you more the brood-from-afar type?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, will you shut up? You’re such an embarrassment. This is why I never take you anywhere,” Steve says, walking off in a huff.

Robin chases after him, laughing her ass off. He’s glad at least one of them thinks the situation is funny.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #x reader #reader insert #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley #joyce byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #writing #writing blog #reader insert blog #x reader blog

[gabrieldrawsstuff]

Aight fellas, I'm doing a list of canon descriptions of dw characters for future reference, might do a second part with more minor characters

SPOILER ALERT OBV

STRANGER

-THE JOURNAL : "Somehow I'm wearing a coat, so I must've changed my clothes on my way here. I don't recognize myself anymore. I can barely hold this pencil. Has my body changed?"

-DOCTOR : "I see you haven't regained your speech. You need to find another doctor."

-SNAIL : "Your face... What happened to you?

The snail's jaw falls so low, it almost detaches itself from the rest of the body.

You scared me... You barely resemble a human... You should cover yourself..."

SNAIL : "You're so ugly, I feel like puking... You barely resemble a human being..."

THE CRIPPLE : "You, lad. You've got your hands and legs. Strong arms. I beg you!"

MAMA ELEPHANT : "Can't you speak? Did someone take away your voice?"

MAMA ELEPHANT : "Your gob looks like that because of this fiendish air, do you know? I bet you can't speak, because you didn't keep your mouth shut when walking through the woods."

MAMA ELEPHANT : "(...) I know you want something, you leper demon."

MUSHROOM GRANNY : "(...) But you're young and strong."

CHICKEN LADY : "Whaddaya need, poor soul? Hungry, eh? I'd give ya some stew, but what good will it do?"

(I think in polish version it was closer to 'how will you eat it' although I can't be sure)

MIRROR : "You are one ugly bastard. I guess you got what you deserved."

MUSICIAN : "This is our doctor, yes? He is just as brave and good as you are!"

MUSICIAN : "You're not af-fraid of anything!"

WOLFMAN : "Even from afar I can smell your putrid stench. Be glad I don't have an appetite for carcasses, Meat"

WOLFMAN : (after the church dream sequence) "Meat, what's with the big eyes? Hehe... Scared?"

WOLFMAN : (when you nod to a question if you're making a joke of him) "You're a brave piece of meat... and what's more important, one with a sense of humor. 

WOLFMAN : "Are you pretending to be human, or are you just cracking jokes?"

WOLFMAN : "You look tired, Meat. Busy night?"

WOLFMAN : "Have fun, Meat... Just remember to hide that disaster of a face or it's no dancing for you"

WOLFMAN : (when you spare the sow) "My heart sings with joy when I see such selfless kindness. Tell me the truth, Meat. It was you, wasn't it?"

vvvvv

TRADER

-A man, roughly my size, is standing before me.

I can barely make out his disturbingly familiar features through the matte visor of his helmet...

The massive helmet is covered with an old sack and seems to be an integral part of the unnaturally pale body.

-The man reaches out to me with his black hand. It's covered in charcoal... There's something written on his worn, woolen glove.

-Visibly struggling, the man drops the sack from his back and bends in half, as if out of breath. He shakes the dust off his clothes, then rolls up the sleeve of his, seemingly too small, jacket. 

-The old sack covering his body slides down, revealing his chest, covered in horrid growths. It is fused with a porous helmet, pulsating to the rhythm of his breath.

vvvvv

WOLFMAN

THE JOURNAL: "If I'm not delusional, the man whom I met... had the head of a wolf."

FIRST ENCOUNTER: The figure hides its face under the hood. It smells of wet soil and fur.

WOLFMAN: "(...)I barely believe my beautiful eyes... (...) The Wolf smiles, revealing a row of sharp teeth.

AT BARN RUINS: The Wolf makes a quick leap and, bouncing against me with his swollen belly, he puts his paws on my shoulders. He ostentatiously licks his face. (...)

-I notice fresh bloodstains on his fur and feel streaks of his saliva dripping onto my coat. 

-The Wolf takes two steps back. I can only see a row of filthy, sharp teeth underneath his hood.

-The Wolf squeezes my arms and starts licking my face. Once from the left side, once from the right side. (...) His breath stinks of rot.

WOLFMAN: "Thanks to you I feel fulfilled! I got my girl, my sweet little lady back."

-Suddenly the Wolf sends me back with a powerful push and reaches into his coat pocket.

WOLFMAN: "(...) and then nothing wil keep you from getting the fuck out of my part of the woods! Do you get me, Meat? You will pack your bags, dive into that stinking hole of yours and dissa-fucking-pear!"

-Finally he snorts, his thick, yellow spit landing on the photo.

-The Wolf grabs the box and starts sniffing it from every angle. I could swear I've heard his tail moving under his coat.

WOLFMAN: "And what am I supposed to do with it? Bite it until it opens? Your brain must be rotting if you think I will break my fangs for this shit."

WOLFMAN: "An electronic game, eh? About a wolf stealing chicken eggs... hehehe. Good one!I've a soft spot for games, how about you?"

-As I produce the key, the Wolf's pupils widen with excitement.

WOLFMAN: (about villagers) "Those selfish, deceitful wretches! They think they're superior, because they have human gobs. They treat us like lepers! But you know what? Fuck them. We're buddies, aren't we? And them? They deserve to be punished, Meat..."

-The Wolf pierces me with his look and grins. A string of saliva lands on his hole-riddled jacket.

-The Wolf puts his paw on me. I can feel his claws puncturing my skin.

WOLFMAN: (about piotrek) "Meat! Fucking hell, seen that? Hahaha! Seen that? Hahaha! Off he flew, didn't he? OFF HE FUCKED!!! Hahahaha!"

WOLFMAN: "If you wish to spend some more quality time basking in the striking, yet natural beauty of my features before you head off to the Silent Forest, you will find me in my camp in the Dry Meadow."

vvvvv

DOCTOR

THE JOURNAL: "What I do know is that the insane fucker took my key. My only chance to get out of the woods. He also tore out all the pages from my journal."

THE JOURNAL: "The doctor has escaped. So be it. He would only be a hindrance anyway."

CHICKEN LADY: "My sisters! Where did ya find it? It's all that godless quack's fault - devil brought him! All he did was prescribe this and that, scribble this no-good drivel! To hell with them papers!"

-I can feel the doctor's cold hand grab me by the jaw, (...)

-He removes his dirty glasses with a trembling hand and freezes.

DOCTOR: "First they begged for help, now I need to hide from them! I'm just an ordinary doctor! How the fuck was I supposed to help them?! How?!"

-With shaking hands, he reaches for the cigarrete butt between his yellow teeth.

DOCTOR: "I used to come here to treat people. I pulled out kids' milk teeth, delivered babies... (...) Last time I came here was three or four years ago. Then the trees blocked the path."

-The Doctor is visibly pleased with himself and his theory. His hands are no longer trembling. He produces a hand-rolled cigarette and lights it.

DOCTOR: "(...) I have no idea where it leads. I'm a shitty diver. (...)"

-The Doctor stares right into my eyes. Mud drips from his face. He hasn't blinked in over a minute.

- (...)His glasses are so dirty, I barely see the eyes hiding underneath.

-A chunk of mud falls down on his exposed tongue. He chews it slowly and swallows with satisfaction.

-The Doctor puts the muddy hand into his mouth, grimaces and pulls out a yellow tooth. He puts it into the pocket of his torn trousers. The tooth falls through a hole. He does not notice this...

-Slowly he bends down and grabs a thick branch from the ground. He starts biting the bark off of it. He swallows the bark with an effort, but also great satisfaction. He places the stick among other ones sticking out of his mud-covered head.

WOLFMAN: "Well, well. I know this quack. A nonentity, a third-rate witch doctor. Useless fucking clunker... But he still managed to screw you over with that key. Eh, comrade?"

MUSICIAN: "This is our doctor, yes? He is just as brave and good as you are! He helped me. He is helping all of us! He gave me this beautiful mask, so I could be healed of my afllictions. Maybe you could have one too..."

vvvvv

vvvvv

MUSICIAN

THE JOURNAL: "I met a boy in the village. He told me that the "Chicken Lady" keeps the "Pretty Lady" locked in her house. The boy really wants to see her, but the old woman won't allow it."

THE JOURNAL: "I decided to give the key to Chicken Lady's room to the little boy. He thanked me and asked me to bring him his mom's violin (it's hidden behind the wardrobe). He's afraid to go himself, as his parents are supposedly angry with him."

THE JOURNAL: "The boy sure was happy to see the new violin. (...)The kid also told me I should visit him in his parent's home someday."

CHICKEN LADY: (after musician's death) "Maybe it's just that me ears are getting worse, but it's been a while since I've heard that monster outside me windows..."

CHICKEN LADY: "Holy Mother, this creep again! May the devil take him and his blasted violin!"

MUSICIAN: "The Pretty Lady? S-she's... the most beautiful lady in the w-world! I w-watch her through the cracks in the window. S-she ch-changes when I watch her... g-gets more beautiful. I p-play for her... I want her to be h-happy..."

MUSICIAN: "I fished out the Pretty Lady's w-wreath from the river! (...)Oh yes, I will become the Pretty L-lady's husband! We w-will walk hand in hand, s-sir. I will play for her, mister s-sir."

-A skinny little hand emerges from beneath the tractor and grabs me by the ankle.

MUSICIAN: "They will not l-listen to me, they w-won't hear how sad I am, sir..."

-One of the strings securing his mask falls off, together with his ear. The boy reattaches it as if nothing happened.

MUSICIAN: "My m-mom has this beautiful violin! I would ask her to b-borrow it to me, but she's too angry with me... Could you p-please c-convince her to b-borrow it to me? I'll g-give you a card with drawings for her. To apologize."

-The boy turns the game in his hand for a while, but he can't find a way to reach the buttons with his overgrown fingers. The game slips out of his hand and drops to the ground. The wannabe musician freezes.

MUSICIAN: "(...) maybe you could take a wee piece of... m-meat for me? I've never eaten a pig and I've h-heard it's very tasty! W-would you take s-some for me?"

-The boy sniffles and rubs the mask with his deformed hand.

-From beneath the mask you can hear a horribly distorted, resounding voice... of a child?

-The figure tries to turn its head, but its enormous neck makes this task impossible to complete.

MUSICIAN: "P-please let me stay. P-please, don't chase me off. I've got nowhere to... go. The villagers don't a-a-allow me to live in the camp. I p-p-promise I won't p-play anymore! I'll be quiet. You can c-cover me with something, if you don't w-want to look at m-me..."

MUSICIAN: (after gifting you a rat) "(...) I mean, she jumped on my hand and s-started nibbling on my f-finger! I quickly clasped my h-hand and b-bit through its neck!"

-The corners of the boy's mouth turn up in a grotesque smile, exposing rows of overgrown teeth, which even his mask couldn't hide.

-The boy clumsily grabs the ball in his hand. He carefully hides it under his legs, so that it doesn't roll away.

MUSICIAN: "S-sorry! I didn't want to! T-this thing is coming out of m-my body. I... I tried to stop it, but I don't think I can... N-now the whole room is covered with... this. I didn't want to make a mess, I s-swear! Please, don't t-throw me a-away!"

-The boy leans over the violin lying next to his overgrown left hand. He plucks one of the strings with his right hand, clumsily trying to keep the rhythm.

MUSICIAN: "Recently, I've grown quite a bit. My mom always used to say that I need to be b-big and s-strong... to help her out in the field..."

The boy tries to hug his frail knees with the disproportionately massive torso.

"But I... I don't want to be big anymore. It's v-very hard being big. You need to be so... so strong! To even walk.Now my v-violin is... too s-small for me!"

vvvvv

vvvvv

#darkwood protagonist #darkwood wolfman #darkwood trader #darkwood stranger #darkwood #darkwood musician #darkwood doctor