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onceuponastory · 1 year

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taxi - bucky barnes x reader

In the backseat of the taxi When you told me we were only Two punch drunk souls all tangled in the wind And in the backseat when you asked me "Is the sadness everlasting?" I pulled you closer, looked at you and said "Love, I think it is" - Taxi by The Maine also thought this song fitted bc planes taxi too lmao

Plot: After their misunderstanding, Y/N tries to tell Bucky the truth...despite the roadblocks life keeps throwing their way. Pairing: Pilot!Bucky Barnes x FlightAttendant!Female!Reader Warnings: Angst and miscommunication... but a happy ending, cause it’s me. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This was written for @the-slumberparty‘s Writing Challenge from last week: write a continuation of a one-shot. So here’s a part two to my first Pilot!Bucky fic, Fear of Falling. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

For the rest of the day, Y/N stays in bed, trying to grapple with the night before. Bucky’s expression still haunts her, even now, consuming her every waking moment. Honestly, she’s surprised that she’s still functioning right now. Funnily enough, it feels like she’s been on autopilot since the night before, simply moving through the motions to appear like a normally functioning human. All she knows is that she has to tell Bucky the truth, but doesn’t even know how. And then, she remembers everyone is going to dinner tonight. Her hope rises. This could be her chance to finally make things right.

When the time comes, she rushes downstairs. Everyone greets her, but Bucky only mumbles a ‘hello’. He refuses to make eye contact with her, and her heart sinks. She was hoping for a moment alone with him, but all this is doing is reinforcing her worst fear. Hopefully, he just needs a moment to think things over, and when she speaks to him later, it’ll all be okay.

Yet, as the night wears on, that possibility fades more and more. She and Bucky barely speak more than a few pleasant words to one another, both unsure of what to do or say around each other after the night before. “Hey, we’re gonna stay out. Maybe we’ll catch a movie or something. You wanna come?” Sam asks when they’re finished dinner. Deep down, Y/N knows she should go. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? Is maybe having fun for a few hours with her friends really so bad? But then, she looks over at Bucky. He still isn’t making eye contact, acting like his shoes are the most interesting thing in the world. And the sight makes her heart sink once more.

Turns out increasing Bucky’s heartbreak is the worst thing that could happen.

“No, I’m good. I slept like shit last night, so I’m just gonna go back to my room. You guys have fun, though.”

“Buck? How about you?” Bucky looks up, and his eyes meet hers for a fleeting moment. As his mouth slowly opens, a small twinge of hope registers in Y/N’s stomach. Maybe he’s considering coming back to the hotel with her. Maybe all hope is not lost, and she can explain everything. This could be their rom-com moment, when everything finally works out and-

“Yeah, that sounds good.” And then, all her hope shatters once more. Turning away sadly, Y/N begins the walk back to the hotel, not even waiting for the others to say goodnight. All she can focus on is trying not to cry.

Although, Y/N doesn’t notice how Bucky watches her as she leaves, his eyes lingering even when she disappears from sight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Y/N stands outside Bucky’s door, ready to give things one last chance. “Bucky, can we talk?” she calls, the sound of her knock reverberating throughout the corridor. As she waits for him to open the door, her stomach churns and her heart pounds. She has no idea what to say to Bucky, or if he’ll even tell her he feels the same. When the door opens, she takes a breath of courage. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, the least she can do is tell him the truth.

Yet, all thoughts of that disappear when Bucky emerges, clad in his uniform and carrying his suitcase. The sight causes Y/N’s brows to furrow.

“Sorry, can we walk and talk? I got an urgent call. They need me to take a plane back to New York. My taxi’s almost here.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear anything from control. Did they say anything about needing me? I can go back to my room and be ready in like five minutes.” She asks, following him towards the lobby. Bucky sighs, running his hand through his hair. Y/N feels her stomach twist. She knows what the words will be before Bucky even says them.

“Sorry, it’s just me they need this time. I’ll see you around, okay?” He replies, and she nods furiously, staring at the floor. Because she knows if she makes eye contact with him, then she’ll crumble.

“Sure. Have a safe flight.” She somehow manages to get out, hoping Bucky doesn’t sense the pain in her words, or how she’s already seeing her vision beginning to blur. And with one last wave, Bucky’s gone. As she watches him leave, Y/N sinks into a chair, cuddling into herself. Her mind races with explanations for why Bucky would be called and not her, and she tries her best to ignore them. Although, one stands out. One she never wanted to think about.

The thought that Bucky is intentionally avoiding her, taking another flight so he doesn’t have to see her, the source of his heartbreak. What happens when this flight is over? Will she see him again? What if he keeps avoiding her? As her mind continues to race, her heart pounding, another horrible thought enters her mind. Maybe he never wants to see her again.

A sob escapes her lips then, and Y/N jumps up, speed walking to the elevator. She doesn’t even make it inside before breaking down in tears. Thankfully, it’s empty, meaning she can let out all her feelings before reaching her floor without being noticed. Trying to keep herself upright, Y/N feels her body tremble as it’s wracked with sobs. Once she’s back out, she practically sprints to her room, ignoring everything else around her. All she can think of is Bucky.

Slamming the door behind her, Y/N climbs into her bed, sinking into her mattress. Burying her face into a pillow, she continues to sob. Bucky’s face sticks in her mind, as does the look on his face when he first saw her phone. That sight still causes her heart to ache, even now. And what hurts even more is the fact she can’t do anything to make things better. At least, not now. All she can do is hope that this is just a one off, and that when she next sees Bucky, she can explain it all then.

Unfortunately, as she returns to her regular life, things don’t get much better. After seeing Bucky at least four or five a week, either in passing or on her flights, that number falls. Soon, she starts not seeing him at all. Her texts to him also go unnoticed, and when he does reply, they’re not as cheerful or as frequent as she’s used to. And that means she’s forced to ask others how Bucky’s doing rather than simply asking him. She’s not used to working like this. Being together is what she and Bucky do, what they’re used to. They fly together, as a team. They’ve always been a team. The only times they’ve been on separate flights are few and far between. Bucky is the one constant she has in her job, and she’s grown accustomed to always seeing his face on her flights, and his smile whenever she enters the cockpit. She’s never had to account for this, for being apart from him… especially after what happened.

As more and more weeks go by with no sign of Bucky, the horrible realisation sets in even more. Bucky is avoiding her. He doesn’t want to see her again. And despite how much that thought destroys her, Y/N knows she has to respect his wishes. So she stops trying, not wanting to cause pain to either of them. Or at least… no more than she already caused. Of course, people around her soon start to notice how she’s noticeably more upset, and how she’s clearly lost her spark. Especially Sam, who she explained the situation to after he found her crying in the pilot’s lounge after a flight. At least the silver lining in this situation is getting to see him more than she’s used to.

“I’ll talk to him for you, if you want.” He offers one day as she passes over his food. “I can tell him you want to explain and that he needs to answer his fucking phone.” Y/N shakes her head.

“I’d love that… but no. If he still doesn’t want to talk to or see me even now, almost three months later, then I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to see me, Sam.” Sam raises a brow, and she sighs. “Has he blacklisted all the flights I’m on? Is he intentionally avoiding me?” Sam’s face softens.

“No Y/N, he’s not. Bucky could never and would never intentionally avoid you. He’s just been really busy recently.” She knows he’s lying to make her feel better. Why else would he not speak to her after all this? After she practically broke his heart? As she turns to leave, Sam’s voice sounds again. “He spoke about you the other week, actually.” His words send a jolt through her body, and she gasps.

“He did?” Sam nods.

“Mhm. He asked how you were, and if you were holding up. I think he’s missing you, too.” His words make her heart flutter, and a small smile grows on Y/N’s face. But then, the little voice of doubt speaks once more.

“So why doesn’t he just talk to me, then? I’m fed up with going through this pain, Sam. I just want it to stop!” She exclaims, sniffling.

“I know. I’ll talk to him. I promise.” He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, and Y/N nods sadly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that week, Y/N stands outside Chicago’s airport, waiting for the taxi to take her to her hotel. Scrolling through her phone, she murmurs to herself, massaging her temples and trying to ignore how much her heels are pinching her toes. That was one of the worst flights she’s ever been on, full of demanding adults, screaming babies and a drunk guy who just wouldn’t stop staring at her tits. Hopefully, this taxi shows up soon, so she can get to her hotel and kick her heels off.

“Hey stranger. Fancy seeing you here.” A familiar voice laughs. Immediately, Y/N’s heart begins to pound. Bucky.

His hair is a little longer than when she last saw him, a few tendrils falling in his face, which he brushes aside. Yet, he’s still got the same smile, the same eyes. He looks just as handsome as he always does.

“Hi. How was your flight?”

“Good. Good.” Bucky nods. “How was yours?”

“Shit.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Y/N wrestles with what to say to him. How to tell him the truth, that she’s always loved him and that being apart for so long has been horrific. Tell him that being apart from him for so long has been soul destroying. “Which hotel are you staying in?” Bucky asks, cutting through her thoughts.

“Same one as the last time we flew in together.” She doesn’t tell him that moment feels like a lifetime ago, and like they were both different people back then.

“Oh, me too. What a coincidence.” Once again, silence falls amongst the pair. In an instant, she’s transported back to that night in their hotel bar, when they were both unsure of what to say to each other. Now, things are so much more different between them. If only she knew back then just how wrong everything would go.

Thankfully, a taxi soon pulls up. “After you.” Bucky gestures to the door. “I’ll wait for the next one.” Y/N shakes her head.

“No, you take it. I don’t mind waiting.”

“Y/N, it’s freezing. You go.” He insists.

“You know… we’re both going to the same hotel, so it’s probably easier for us to ride together.” She suggests. “...That’s what the driver will say, anyway.” She stammers quickly. Of course, she’d love to ride with Bucky, despite how much her stomach is churning at the thought. All she can do is hope that he’s happy to see her too and that he wants to fix this just as much as she does.

For a while, all the pair do is look out the window, each huddled into their corner of the taxi. Both are unsure of what to say and waiting for the other to make a move. Sometimes, they get close to it - one takes a breath, and the other turns to them, only for them to say “It’s nothing.”

That is, however, until: “Did you get my flowers? I hope you liked them.”

“Yeah. They were gorgeous. Thanks.” Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair once more.

“Sam told me you were asking about me. He probably told you I missed you. And he’s right, I really do miss you.” Y/N nods, feeling a twinge in her chest. “Flying without you these past few months just isn’t the same. We have a lot of fun together, don’t we?”

“We do. And I missed you too, Bucky. More than you’ll ever know.” As silence falls once more, she can see Bucky looking at her curiously, then glancing down at the floor before she can notice. She can tell what he wants pretty easily. After all, it’s the whole reason they stopped talking. He wants to ask her about her date. Y/N sighs. “Bucky, you don’t have to tiptoe around the question. Just ask me.” He looks up, startled, his cheeks flushing pink.

“I wasn’t, I-” He stammers at first. But then, he sighs once more. “I was just going to ask you how things were with you and… you know, dating.” Y/N takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Did you go out with that guy?”

“There never was a date. I didn’t go out with anyone. You got it all wrong.” He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“But I thought I saw-”

“All you saw was a guy liking my profile. And I turned him down. Actually, I turned them all down. Because they weren’t you, Bucky.” She scoots closer, closing the gap between them both as she looks into his blue eyes. The pair she’s missed for so long. “If you had stayed and listened, I was going to tell you that I love you. I always have. Every time I see you on the flight deck, I get so happy because I love seeing you. Your smile, your laugh… the way you can cheer me up on some of the worst days of my life. But no matter how hard I tried to connect with you, you never seemed to want me back, so I had a quick look at Tinder out of curiosity, which is what you saw. I’m sorry if I messed things up and confused you, but I tried to explain, and instead, you just ignored me for months! Sure, we’re busy in this job, but you couldn’t even send me one fucking text message?!” she demands as all her pain and anger from the past few months is finally released.

“Oh, god.” Bucky groans, holding his head in his hands. Immediately, Y/N’s heart sinks, and she starts hoping for whatever higher power there is to open the ground and swallow her whole. Why did she have to unload on him like that here? And from the way Bucky reacted, only one thought is in her mind.

He doesn’t like her back.

“I’m not asking for you to feel the same. I just want to stop the pain, and feeling like you hate me.” She states. “If you don’t feel the same, just tell me. And then we can go back to being friends… or whatever we are now.” She speaks, her voice quiet. Bucky sighs. Months ago, even before all of this happened, if you had told Y/N that this is where she would be now, pouring out her feelings for Bucky in a fucking taxi, she would’ve thought you were crazy. And yet, here she is.

“I do.” Bucky’s response comes out muffled at first, so quiet that she doesn’t hear it at first.

“I’m sorry?”

“I do like you back, Y/N. Oh fuck, I’m so sorry. You haven’t ruined anything, I have. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. Actually, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, but I’ve just been too scared to say anything. Seeing you on my flights makes me so happy, and the last thing I’d want is to lose you if you didn’t feel the same. When I saw that notification, I thought you didn’t feel me back, and I got so upset I wanted to be alone for a while. I didn’t want to intrude on your happiness, either, so I stayed away. Sam told me you were missing me, and I felt awful. I wanted to tell you the truth, but after being away from you for so long, I thought coming back out of nowhere would just make it worse.” He sighs. “I was only thinking about myself, and not how I was only making things worse.” He scoots over too, closing the gap between them both. “I’m so sorry I ruined everything between us. I’d understand if you never want to see me again.”

To his surprise, though, Y/N starts giggling slightly. “I’ve wanted to hear those words from you for as long as I can remember. And you’ve probably felt the same too. God, what are we like? We should’ve just told each other the truth from the beginning and saved ourselves all this mess.” At her words, Bucky starts laughing too.

“Yeah, we should’ve. Actually, Sam said he wanted to bang our heads together at one point.” He admits, and they both laugh. Hearing them both laughing together again causes a familiar, happy warm feeling to return to Y/N’s chest. Her love for Bucky Barnes. “At least now we can try to make things right.” He places his hand on top of hers, gently running one of his fingers along hers. “Can I take you out tonight to say sorry, and to start over?” Smiling, she nods.

“I’d love that.” Bucky brings her hand to his, gently pressing a kiss to it.

“Me too.” He smiles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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#bucky barnes #navy and roos sleepover #bucky barnes x reader

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love-kurdt · 5 months

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Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home (byler)

this is a continuation of my fic this is me trying! there are some details in this story that make more sense in the context of the previous plot, but it can do well as a stand-alone too!

word count: 2,693

warnings: negative aftermath of coming out, major depression and self-deprecating behavior/ thoughts, underage drinking

ficlet ao3 link

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Mike whispered, gazing at the garage door in front of him. Even when parked, his hands gripped the steering wheel of his 1988 Honda Accord until his knuckles turned practically translucent, which was not a surprise, considering how pale Mike was to begin with. His stomach churned with anxiety, something he hadn’t been able to shut off since coming back to Hawkins for the holidays. Everything felt… wrong. Mike’s heartbeat began to race, and his breathing started to hitch, but then, a strong, calloused hand met the back of Mike’s and pried it off the wheel, and he turned to Will, who was in the passenger seat.

“Mike, this is my parents we’re talking about,” he reassured Mike, flipping his large palm over and pushing his thumbs into the muscles in his hand, making Mike go limp at Will’s touch. It was absolutely insane how Will always knew what to do. “It’s going to be fine.”

“But look at my parents!” Mike countered, lifting his free hand off the wheel and up into the air before planting it in between the strands of his long hair. Which was a mistake, as he’d tied it back an hour prior. Fuck it. Mike reached back and pulled the elastic out and shoved it around his wrist, shaking his head as if he were Simba in The Lion King. His hair was a lost cause. “Like, I knew my dad was ignorant, but—”

“Yeah, that was awful,” Will muttered in agreement. His eyes were slightly glazed over, likely at the memory of a few nights prior. Neither of them would look back fondly at the events of that night; Christmas at the Wheelers’ 1990™ would need to be fully processed at some point.

“Beyond awful, Will,” Mike lamented, turning in his seat fully and lifting one of his legs up in a ninety degree angle in order to sit more comfortably in his already-small car. He leaned his head against the headrest, his bangs falling into his eyes. “That was probably the worst coming out I could have ever predicted!”

“Which is why we’re going to ease into it this time around, right?” Will reminded him, and Mike rolled his eyes. “And remember, I’m already out to my mom and dad, and they’re fine with me,” Will continued, lifting Mike’s hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. “And they already love you.”

Goddamn Will and his knuckle kissing. “Yeah,” Mike surrendered, “I guess.” They sat there for a few seconds, and Mike savored this moment, this singular moment where it was just them, just Mike and Will, sitting in the car, holding hands, against the world, forever. He glanced up at the man in front of him, who broke the silence, much to Mike’s disappointment.

“We can’t sit in the driveway forever, we’ve gotta get out of the car at some point,” Will told him, and Mike frowned.

“Yeah, I know, just…” he trailed off, lowering his gaze down to Will’s lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“You know you never have to ask,” Will smiled, and Mike dove in immediately, capturing Will’s lips between his own. He lifted a hand up to Will’s face, and Will held Mike’s hand in place as they kissed. Mike hummed at the sensation of Will’s tongue, and Will broke into a toothy grin, effectively breaking the kiss. “Okay, we’re stalling. Let’s go.”

Mike opened the driver’s side door to the harsh December winds, teeth automatically chattering. Being skinny during the winter season was never a good time. He shuffled to the front of the car to meet Will, who pulled him by his hand down the front pathway and up to the door. Before Will could even knock, the door was opening, and Joyce was ripping Will out of Mike’s grasp.

“Will! Gosh, honey, I’ve missed you!” Joyce exclaimed, and wrapped her arms around her youngest son as if she hadn’t seen him in a million years. And Mike knew, for a fact, that Joyce had just been up to Chicago in November, over the weekend of the Upside Down Anniversary Effect. Her eyes, which had been shut tightly while embracing Will, snapped open and landed right on Mike, who gulped.

“Mike! What a lovely surprise!” Joyce cried out, and Will brought a hand up to cover his ear in pain as she released him from her vice-like grip. Mike raised his hand up in an awkward wave, but Joyce wasn't having any of that, as she pulled Mike down into one of those hugs where they’d sway side to side. Will watched in adoration, and Mike gave him the finger. She pulled back, eyes narrowing as he straightened his posture. “Have you gotten even taller since I last saw you?”

“Maybe,” Mike chuckled, rubbing the base of his neck nervously. “I’ve lost track of my height at this point.”

“Well, don’t just stand there and let the cold air in, come on in!” Joyce stepped aside, and Mike followed Will into the living room. “Jackets and shoes off, stay a while! Can I get you two anything? Hot cocoa, maybe?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Mike began, but Will cut him off.

“Yes please, we’d love some. That sounds amazing. Thanks, mom.” Mike had forgotten how Joyce wouldn’t leave them alone until she’d Smothered™ at least a little bit. He smiled to himself for a few seconds until Will vigorously tugged him over to the couch and shoved him down onto it, landing next to Mike not soon after. Will’s strength was something Mike had yet to get used to.

“What the fuck was that for?” Mike whispered. Even then, he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Will’s lips were.

“Well,” Will whispered back sassily, “it just occurred to me that we never formulated a plan to tell them about—”

“Tell them about what?” a voice above them asked, and Mike’s focus raised from Will’s lips to the girl who stood behind the couch.

“Hey, you! I didn’t know you were back yet!” Will turned around on his knees on the couch, pulling his sister into a hug. El reciprocated the action, glancing over to Mike with a knowing smirk on her face.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hey, El,” Mike replied, and shifted closer to Will so El could sit next to him on his other side. Her long hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, over her fluorescent purple sweater, and into her lap. She probably hadn’t cut it since… back then.

“How are you? You seem better,” El noted, and Mike shrugged.

“As well as I can be. I’m starting a new book called The Dropout Chronicles of Mike Wheeler. Heading to your local Books-a-Million this January.”

“Oh, you were serious!” El gasped, and Mike nodded gravely. He didn’t want to elaborate upon his series of horrible decisions that led up to his sudden, life-altering downfall, so he went the vague route.

“Yeah. My… circumstances weren’t so great,” he told her, and she nodded in understanding. She brought one of her arms up and around Mike’s shoulders, shifting her body to face the fireplace in front of them.

“Well, I’m glad something good came out of all this,” she smiled. “You finally got your heads out of your asses,” she whispered the last part.

“That we did,” Mike chuckled, watching with El as the fire danced amongst the layered blocks of freshly chopped wood.

“Wheeler,” a gruff voice sent a chill up Mike’s spine. On instinct, he stood up and turned towards Hopper, who stood there in an unfamiliar getup of jeans and a reindeer sweater.

“Chief,” Mike stated, and held out his hand to shake, but Hopper ignored his hand in turn for a friendly clap on the shoulder. “How are you, son?”

Mike felt himself freeze, at a loss for words. Hopper had just called Mike “son.” His own father couldn’t even bring himself to look at Mike, but the fucking Hawkins Chief of Police could refer to Mike as… but at the same time, Hopper still had no idea that Mike was gay. So, in Hopper’s eyes, Mike was still normal. And yes, Hopper knew Will was gay, but Mike felt his vision go blurry at the mere thought of Hopper’s face when he figured out Mike was also gay, and just so happened to be dating his son. What then?

“I—” Mike forced out, but before he could begin to stutter out something embarrassing, Joyce came to the rescue with two gigantic mugs in her hands.

“Here’s your cocoa, boys,” she smiled, carefully setting the mugs down on coasters on the coffee table. “And I gave you extra marshmallows, Mike, just like you used to ask for when you were kids. Anyway, we were thinking about having a family movie night, what do you think?”

God. Family movie night. Mike felt his breathing constrict. He wrapped his arms around his chest and fought the tears that brimmed in his eyes, but he couldn’t stop them. Hopper had just called him “son.” Joyce just used the phrase “family movie night,” so fucking casually, referring to the “we” in the situation as everyone in the room, and by extension, Mike. And he’d never have that. Not from his biological family, at least. He hated the feeling of being unwanted, and by his own parents, no less.

“Mike, sweetie, are you okay?” he snapped out of his thoughts, feeling Joyce’s hand on his arm. He looked around, noticing that all eyes were on him. Leave it to Mike fucking Wheeler to cause a scene. Fantastic. Just what he needed.

“No, no it’s not you, Ms. Byers, I promise,” he shook his head quickly, and wrapped his arms around himself a bit tighter before continuing. “I, uh… something happened. On Christmas. And…” He couldn’t talk anymore. It was like his voice gave out, or his brain simply stopped working, but Will was quick to help him out, wrapping an arm around his waist as he spoke. Mike would have said something about being subtle, but everything was going to shit, anyway. So he might as well. Mike looked at the ground in shame.

“Let’s just say Mike’s not really welcome at home anymore,” Will told his family. There were a few gasps, followed by a beat of silence. Mike stood there, trying to ground himself, trying to absorb whatever comfort Will was conveying through his fingertips.

Mike’s eyes remained trained on the floor, but watched as a pair of very large reindeer slippers moved until they stood right in front of him. Mike lifted his head to see Hopper, staring at him. The man didn’t say a single word. Instead, he opened his arms, and pulled Mike into him by the back of his head. Mike took this strange embrace in, unsure of how this was going to go, but from the second Mike’s face met Hopper’s shoulder and he felt the fatherly embrace he craved but knew he’d never have from his own father, he broke down sobbing. Hopper’s other arm wrapped around Mike’s back as he continued cradling his head.

“I’ve got you, kid. I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured, and Mike cried even harder. He couldn’t believe the turn of events this night was taking. Not even an hour before this, Mike had been freaking the fuck out about how Will’s parents would react to his identity. Mike gripped onto Hopper’s reindeer sweater tightly at the thought. He could barely fathom the fact that he’d ever compared Hopper to Ted. They could not be more different.

“Even though you’re dating yet another one of my children, which we will have to talk about,” Hopper continued, and Mike could only let out a wet laugh at that, because it was true. “But it’s gonna be okay, kid. I promise.”

“Were we that obvious?” Mike heard from behind him, and Mike pulled away from Hopper so he could address Will directly.

“William. Let’s be real here,” he deadpanned, and Mike turned to see Will going a little pale. “I could sense your bubbly, lovesick giddiness from a mile away. You’ve been pining over Mike for, what, a decade?”

“Dad!” Will shrieked, and El started giggling.

“Plus, you two haven’t spoken in a year, and now all of a sudden you’re getting all cuddly on the couch. I put two and two together, sue me,” Hopper lifted his hands up, backing away and heading into the kitchen.

“Jesus, okay,” Will called after him, “I didn’t know you were keeping such tight tabs on my love life.”

Hopper laughed from the kitchen before coming back into the living room with a handful of VHS tapes.

“So does this mean we have to sleep in separate rooms…?” Mike hesitated, but Hopper waved his hand at them, the sheer shock nearly knocking Mike to the ground.

“Just keep the door open three inches and we won’t have any issues. That’s assuming Mike can actually follow directions this time around.”

“Yes, sir.” Mike replied, earning a light smack in the arm from Will, who pulled Mike down to kiss him on the cheek before they sat back down on the couch. Hopper knelt down to the VHS player as everyone else got situated around the living room. Mike laced his fingers with Will’s. He could get used to this.

“Alright. So I’ve got a few choices from Family Video: Captain America, GoodFellas, and It.”

•

“Two minutes till the countdown!” Joyce announced to everyone over the music. “Where is everybody?! I want a good picture this year!” Jonathan finished setting up his camera on his tripod, turning back to Joyce with furrowed eyebrows.

“Wait, where’s Mike?”

“I’ll get him,” Will said, leaving the group for a moment and straying into the hallway to see Mike slumped against the wall. He lowered his red solo cup from his lips, grimacing as he crushed the now-empty cup in his hand.

“That was alcohol, wasn’t it?” Will asked with a concerned underlying tone in his voice.

“Yeah,” Mike stated, plain and simple. There was no use in lying.

“We’re still nineteen, Mike,” Will pressed, and Mike rolled his eyes. That never stopped Mike from drinking before.

“And? It’s New Years, don’t be a killjoy.” Mike looked down at Will, who was glaring at him. Fuck. He didn’t mean that. He was drunk though, so he was allowed. But was he really?

“We’ll revisit this,” Will told him, pulling Mike by his free hand over to the kitchen, where Mike basketball-tossed the cup through the air and into the trash. He was surprised his aim was still intact. “Mom wants a photo.”

“I’ll take the photo if you need me to” Mike began, but Will turned around, stopping his boyfriend in his tracks.

“Babe, come on. You’re family. Plus, Jonathan just got a new camera with a self-timer.” Mike blinked down at Will with hooded eyes.

“Fancy shmancy,” he giggled to himself, and Will sighed as he pulled Mike into his side, making sure he didn’t stumble, as they posed for the photo.

“Alright, I’m about to set it, everyone ready?” Jonathan called back, and retreated to his spot as the camera’s flash blinked. “One, two, three!”

•

“Ten seconds to midnight!” El whooped, and everyone hurried to gather around the TV for the countdown. Mike side-eyed Will who smirked back at him, their respective holds on each other tightening as they shifted to face each other.

The clock struck twelve, and everyone was celebrating around them, but to Mike and Will, everything else around them melted away. It had always been like that with them; Will was Mike’s entire world, and Mike was Will’s.

“Happy New Year, baby,” Mike told his boyfriend, who grinned back up at him with nothing but love reflected in his eyes.

“Happy New Year, Mike. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As Mike leaned down to kiss Will, he felt optimistic for the first time in a long time. Maybe Hopper was right.

Maybe everything would be okay.

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfic #byler ficlet #byler tumblr #will byers #mike wheeler #will x mike #stranger things #stranger things fic #mike wheeler is 6’3 and i will die on this hill #new year #not so new mike #don’t blame me updates

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shhh-secret-time · 3 months

Note

I love love love your stuff! Can we get a jealousy smut fic?! I don't care with who I just want something tasty!

I was feeling super bad about my writing today, I really struggled with this one but when I went back and read what you wrote it made me feel a lot better. Thank you anon I really appreciate it. And thank you to everyone who voted on the poll! Warning: NSFW, Oral, Strong Language, Drinking Pairing: Kyle x M!Reader Note: I've never written for male reader before, but I want everyone who reads my things to feel included somehow. I didn't include anything crazy in this story because of it. So this one is more on the tamer side of things.

His head hurt. The ache started from the middle of his forehead and spread like a blanket over his skull. Naturally the cure would be going to a party late at night that his best friend drug him too. With medicine being some jungle juice in a red solo cup that said best friend shoved into his hand.

"Loosen up Kyle you look like you're about to explode." He almost didn't hear Stan over the sound of the music playing over them.

Each song had a heavy bass, like a heartbeat slamming into the side of his head and his chest. The kind of music that you could feel in your ribcage each time the beat dropped. So yeah, he really was about to explode. Whatever was in his cup wasn't helping either, the sugary drink was making his heart spike and his stomach churn.

"Stan, I didn't even want to fucking be here in the first place. I'm here for you." Kyle grumbles back once the song finishes, they have a few moments of silence before it picks back up.

"No, you're not. You and I both know if you really wanted to you would have left by now." Stan teases, shooting him a lazy smirk.

Kyle can feel his face burn, like the drink in his hand, it's a mixture of emotions. Rage and embarrassment swirled together with his headache creating the perfect concoction in the red head’s body. His grip on his cup tightens as his arms flex under the forest green flannel and faded Crimson Dawn shirt.

Every bit of him hated the fact that Stan was right, and even more that he knew the reason why Kyle was enduring this. This shit night, this shit drink, this shit music, this shit headache. Why he endured this shit party and all other parties he's been attending the last week.

You.

Dark green orbs travel over to the dance floor where you've been for the past few hours. He can't stop himself from watching the way your hips sway back and for, the way your jeans squeeze your sides in the most delicious way. Even in the dim light he can see how flushed your face looks from all the dancing you've been doing; his eyes lock on to the beads of sweat the travel down your neck and how it slides down your Adam's apple.

Kyle takes a drink of his alcohol, but it does nothing about how dry his mouth feel. His lips now glistening under lights coming off the cell phones that surround him. He barely registers the taste of the coke or the way the drink burns the back of his throat. Not when he can almost taste the drink that's on your lips.

Fuck he was thirsty.

"Earth to Kyle. Dude you're staring." Stan's fingers snapped him out of his trance.

Kyle looked over at Stan with his mouth open slightly. He raises a brow and scoffs, trying to clear his mind.

"You can go dance with him you know? You don't have to stand in this corner! Might have a little competition though." Stan says, gesturing over to you. "Looks like Bebe's all over him."

He was right, but that was nothing new. Bebe practically clinging to your arm, her body all but grinding against yours. Not that this was anything new, she was always around you. Whether it was walking to classes together or sitting at lunch with one another, she was always there. Anytime Kyle even thought about going up to you to talk to you, she was always fucking there. His fingers dipped into the plastic cup making it crack, the amber liquid spilling out onto his fingers.

"Fuck! Look I don't want to dance. I'm just gonna get another drink." Kyle grumbles pushing past his friend.

Jealousy was an ugly beast; one Kyle knew all too well. Insecurity was something he struggled with, ever since he was a kid and it only got worse when he got older. Getting smacked with a growth spurt that made him shoot up past his friends, while it was great for basketball, it drew too much attention as if his stupid curly red hair didn't do that already. He was wishing he brought his hat, why he ever let Stan talk him into things like this he never knew.

The path to the table with all the alcohol was mostly clear. A few people laying off to the side talking to one another or passed out. The smell of weed and alcohol in the air made Kyle scrunch up his nose as he threw the broken cup away. It wasn't hard to find a new one, they were scattered everywhere, now finding one that was abandoned with a drink already in it was a different story. As he scanned the table for a new cup another walking headache approached the table with him.

Eric Cartman, the bane of his existence and the biggest source of his insecurities. Although at this very moment, Bebe was giving him a run for his money. That didn't mean he wanted him to talk however, but like always his mouth worked faster than Kyle's legs.

"I don't know how to tell you this Kyle...but you look like a total shit bag right now. You...you are aware this is a party. You know that thing people go to when they want to have fun." Eric's voice was what sandpaper grinding against skin would sound like, Kyle was sure.

"Fuck off asshole, I really don't want to deal with you right now." Kyle sighs as he picks up a cup.

"Awh, and here I was about to throw you a lifeline. A little birdie told me you've been eye fucking Bebe's boy toy all day." Eric leans against the table pretending to inspect his nails, and his tone alone makes Kyle want to cave his face in.

Kyle grits his teeth trying to focus on the pour of whatever clear liquid he grabbed. "And would that birdie like me to smash his fucking teeth in?"

"You've been using that threat since we were kids. Come on Kyle don't pretend like you aren't at least a little curious as to what I've got to say. We both know how this will go. You're angry because you have sand in your vagina, and I'll tell you what I want because I don't respect you."

Kyle slams the bottle down with a loud thud and glares at him, his grip on the neck of the bottle is so tight he's white knuckling it. Eric holds his hands up in defense, a small bead of sweat trails down the side of his face.

"Believe it or not, I want to help! I've got a lot riding on this little bet with Craig, and I can't have you fucking me out of a hundred and fifty dollars."

"What makes you think I want your help, Cartman?!"

"You don't, but once again. One hundred. And. Fifty. Dollars." Eric holds up his index fingers as he slows his speaking down. "And you need the help, as funny as this is watching you suffer, I'm your friend and as your friend...you would want me to have a hundred and fifty dollars."

No, he really wouldn't. He would want Cartman to get hit by a bus, or at the very least to leave him alone. Kyle could feel himself boiling over at this point his hands were shaking, and his body felt like it was on fire. He was at his tipping point.

"Look I can get you an hour or so with him alone, all you have to do is grow a pair and talk to him. You can't talk to him because Bebe's always around him, right? Well, how do you think Wendy felt with you and Stan? And who brought them together?"

"Aliens."

"Aliens aren't real Kyle, quit making shit up. It was me." He's never seen Eric look or sound so offended before. "You can stand in your gay little corner drinking by yourself, or you can go talk to him and be gay with him in another corner."

As Kyle went to open his mouth to yell at him nothing came out, once again he couldn't find anything to say to him. Nothing that wouldn't be a string of swears or him finally connecting his fist to his smug face. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. At the very least he could blame the alcohol for this horrible idea.

Eric took the silence as a yes, with a wicked grin he put his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Leave it to me Kyle. You'll know the signal when you see it."

He should stop him. He should stop Eric from doing whatever dumb shit he was going to do. But he doesn't, his heart is pounding so hard in his chest that the music seems like a lullaby.

Kyle watches as Eric walks right up to you and Bebe, he walks with such confidence. The confidence of someone who was not invited to this party but showed up anyway, because that's exactly the kind of person he was. The music makes it where he can't hear what he says to you but the look on your face goes from a relaxed smile to a horrified look.

That's when your eyes lock with his. Kyle nearly leaps from his skin as he watches you look between him and Eric. Eric has his hand on his hips and his fingers snapping up at your face.

"No... he isn't."

Eric shouts something, and Bebe steps in between the both of them. She puts her fingers in his face and glares up at him shouting something back. Eric bobs his head to the side swiveling it around like bobble head almost.

"He is. Oh, my fucking god." Kyle puts his face in his hands.

He's past the point of anger. He's beyond seeing red, it's just white. White noise and a ringing in his ear. The steady thumping of his heartbeat and the music is the only thing grounding him. To keep him from flying off the handle and probably making the situation worse.

His fingers tug at the flesh of his skin, pulling it down as he moves from his hands. Fuck it. He's had enough. Had enough of sitting on the sidelines and watching everyone else get to have your attention. The drink was left forgotten on the table behind him, he had gotten what he needed from it.

"A little liquid courage goes a long way." Stan used to say, and maybe he was right.

Kyle's across the room before he knows it, all that basketball playing finally paid off. He's able to dodge sweaty bodies still moving around on the dance floor. A man with a clear destination and nothing was going to stop him.

You don't have time to register the fact Kyle has you by the wrist or the fact that he's dragging you away from the dance floor. He tries to keep his grip gentle, he really does, but through this anger everything in his body has gone numb. You're not complaining about any pain, but he thinks he hears you say something about walking too fast.

Kyle drags you upstairs so he can talk to you without screaming matches or loud music. Without prying eyes or nosey party goers. But now that he's got you here, he doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how to approach this without blowing up. It's not your fault, you don't deserve this.

"What did Cartman say to you?" So, he settles with that, a question. At the very least he can direct all this anger towards Cartman.

You look down between the two of you, looking at the way he still has his larger hand wrapped around your wrist. It's funny, this whole situation. At first you were a little freaked out when Eric just came up and suddenly started yelling at you, but when you saw the look in Kyle's eyes it clicked.

The suspicion that Kyle Broflovski had a crush on you was always there. His gaze lingering a little longer than normal, the way he'd blush and turn his head away from you like he wasn't just admiring you from across the room. When he'd come to you asking for help in class you knew he was passing. All those times he nags at you for not wearing gloves in the Colorado cold, saying something about how you'll get sick and then he'll be forced to take care of you.

Yeah, he wasn't slick. And the poor man wore his heart on his sleeve. If he wasn't trying to sneak peeks at you, then he was shooting glares at Bebe. Oh, how little he knew. Now it all made sense why he shot those dirty looks. Why he was starting to avoid you when earlier in the year he seemed so eager to have lunch with you.

"If he said something that hurt your feelings, I swear I'll turn his spinal fluid into an option at the God damn McDonald's soda fountain." Kyle snarls through gritted teeth.

Oh?

You almost want to chuckle at his reaction, curling your index finger and pressing your lips to the side to stop it from slipping out. "Sorry I was just taken back by all of this. It's not like you to up and grab someone like this Kyle."

He blinks once, and then twice before realizing he's still got a firm grip on you. His face turns red, and he drops your hand like it's hot coal burning his palm.

"Sorry! I just needed to get you away from him, before he said something stupid!" His apology is so cute. The way he won't even look you in the eye. "He didn't say anything stupid, did he?"

"Oh, not much." You shrug and smirk when he lets out a little sigh of relief. "Just that I'm a homewrecker for trying to come in between you two."

"What?!"

"Yeah, something about how I'm stepping up on his man and then he started snapping. Which by the way, great choice in a partner. I didn't know you guys were a thing~." You knew damn well they weren't, not from the way Kyle looked like he was about to explode. Perhaps you were adding fuel to this already raging fire, but if you were honest with yourself. You liked this side of Kyle. The way his eyes darkened and the way his body tensed.

"That fat fucking bastard. I'm gonna kill him!" Just as Kyle was about to leave you in whatever room he dragged you into, you stepped between him and the door putting your arms out.

"Hold on! Just let Bebe handle it, she's got it under control. This is her party."

"She doesn't get to handle him! I'm going to take care of him! It's about time someone put him in his fucking place!"

"Kyle. It's Bebe's party. She can just kick him out and we can go back to having a good time." You place your hand on his chest, trying to guide him back to where he was standing.

He wants to, he really does. The feeling of your hand on his chest almost brings him out of his anger. But your words keep echoing in his head. Eric's stupid plan almost cost him everything, again. "You don't understand! He does this all the time! I'm tired of him getting in the way! She doesn’t get to take this from me to!"

No, he didn't mean that last part, it's not Bebe's fault. He knows that. It's not her fault he can't think straight around you. It's not her fault for wanting to be around you, he can't blame her for that. She probably just sees everything he sees. How wonderful you are, how you light up every room you walk in. How, even now, you're trying to keep the peace and save Cartman's life. Anyone else would have just let that man to die, but here you were Eric Cartman's guardian angel and he didn't even know.

"Bebe? She didn't do anything! What could she have taken!?"

"She's always around you!"

"You mean like you and Stan?"

"No! I mean- it's different! I'm not dating Stan!"

"I'm not dating Bebe!"

He blinks again and it's like he's been hit with cold water. The adrenaline in his veins dulls down to a small buzz. The headache in his head reminds him that it's still here and stronger than ever because of the yelling.

"What?" He asks in a softer tone.

"I'm not dating Bebe!" You yell back as you move your hands off his chest. You cross your arms over yours and give him the most bored look he's ever seen on a person. One that would give Tucker a run for his money.

"Then...why is she..."

"She's gay Kyle. You think you're the only one who gets roped into their friends’ stupid schemes?" You roll your eyes and smirk at him. "She's been trying to make this one chick in our science class jealous."

"Oh."

Fucking oh. That's all he can say. It takes everything in his power not to jump out of the window behind him and just leave town. He could change his name and skip a few states. Grow a beard and shave his head, you'd never see him again and he'd never have to answer for this moment. But his legs feel to heavy to move.

"Yep~! But...it's nice to know you and Eric aren't a thing." Your voice breaks him right out of his little pity party. "You can do so much better."

It takes him a second to realize that you've closed the gap. It's when he feels your fingertips trailing up his forearm, brushing against the veins popping out, that you're touching him. When you look up at him with heavy lidded eyes, he gulps. Trying to swallow that weird lump in his throat.

"If you're so worried that someone else will snatch me up, why not confess to me right now? Unless...I'm reading this whole situation wrong." You move your hands back just as they reach his shoulder blade, and his hand twitches by his side. "Then I can just go back downstairs and ask McCormick for a dance~"

Your back hits the wall as Kyle's resolve finally breaks. His lips crashing down on yours with such a force his teeth clack against yours. It's messy, consuming, and heated.

You can taste the jealousy on his lips.

When you kiss him back, his hands have your wrists pinned to the wall next to your head. Lips locked onto yours and moving against yours with such a frenzy. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You respond by biting his back, pulling a moan from him.

Kyle's tongue pushes past your teeth and into your mouth. His tongue meets yours feverishly, twining around in a rushed dance. Your hips roll up against his, the same ones he couldn't take his eyes off of a minute ago. A minute ago, he was breaking his cup because of how jealous he was of Bebe, and now he's got his tongue down your throat pulling the sexiest moans out of your mouth. He devours every one of them until you break the kiss.

His brows furrow before he realizes you broke for air. Your chest heaving as you try to take in as much as you can. You’re rushing to get back to his lips and it almost brings a smile to his face. Kyle cups the side of your face letting his fingertips trace your jawline.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at Bebe like that. She's your friend and I should've just talked to you."

"Hm-mm~" You nod up at him still trying to recover from the small make out sesh.

"And... you’re right I should just confess that I really want to date you. That I've liked you for a while now. This isn't how I wanted to do it but...I'm not complaining." He whispers against your lips.

"You're so hot when you tell me I'm right." You press a kiss onto the corner of his lips. "Apology accepted handsome. Now do it right."

Kyle chuckles and brushes his nose across yours. The tip of his nose slides down the bridge of yours just as his lips over yours, dangerously close for another kiss. "Hey. You wanna go out with me so I can stop being jealous all the time."

"Hm..." You pretend to think about his question for a moment making him smirk. He tugs you against his body reminding you that you're trapped against him and the wall. It pulls a laugh right out of you, and you run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah handsome, I'd like that. Just like how I'd reaaaaally like it if you kept kissing me."

Kyle laughs and his lips find yours again. "You really think I'm handsome?"

"So handsome. You walked in with that green flannel and tight shirt, I wanted to rip it off you." You're able to get all of that out in-between kissing him, not willing to break the contact for too long.

"Fuck." Kyle's hands fall to your waist and squeezes it in return. "I wanted to take this slow. Do this right but you're making it so hard."

"I know I can feel it. It's poking me."

"That's not what I meant! Shit! I'm sorry I- oh fuck." He hisses when you roll your hips against him.

His cock is stained against his zipper, the tent in his pants is hard to miss. Nothing could have prepared him for the way you rolled yours against him. He could feel your erection sliding up against his thigh, the material of your jeans working against his.

"Want me to take care of that for you?" Kyle's head starts spinning when your hands slip under his shirt and your fingers slide down the front of his pants. Your palm pressed against the v that dips down.

The way your name comes out of his lips in a breathy whisper almost makes you pull his pants down right then and there. How can you expect him to answer you clearly when your lips are pressing the softest kisses down his throat. "I don't want you to feel like y-you have to."

"Kyle. I want this. I want you. Please don't make me beg for it." How can he say no? Not when your fingers are already playing with the button of his pants. Fingernails tapping against it, rubbing circles around the only thing separating your hands from his cock.

Kyle has no composure left; he's starting to feel his cock ache. He nods down at you and goes to pull his pants open. You watch him with a look of hunger in your eyes, watch as he slides his pants down and listen to the way his breath catches in his throat. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock springing out of his boxers, bobbing when his tip catches on the thin material.

"Hey Ky."

"H-hm?" He's not able to keep the shakiness out of his voice when you wrap your hands around his cock and sink to your knees.

"I want you to fuck my throat." His heart stops momentarily when you talk.

It returns twice as hard when you begin slowly pumping his dick, hammering against his chest each time your fist slides down and grips the base of his member. "Are you sure sweetheart?"

That's new. The way Kyle calls you that makes your heart pick up. He watches as you move to get comfortable on your knees, his eyes burning down at you. The height difference isn't so bad but it's just enough to where he has to bend down a bit to run his fingers through your hair.

"You really want me to beg for it." He does. He likes the thought of you begging for his cock, the thought of your mouth watering just to get a taste of him. So, he answers you with a little grip on your scalp, fingers wrapping around the locks of your hair.

"Oh~! Fuck! Please!" And he's right, the way you beg is so sweet. Kyle groans and tugs your head back causing you to arch up towards him. Forcing your head up towards him.

As your mouth parts to let out a pretty little moan, the head of his cock presses against your lips. The pre-cum the leaks out of the slit coats your lips, and then your tongue when you let it fall out. Kyle's dick twitches against your little kitten licks before he lets it glide into your mouth. He never could have imagined how amazing it feels to have your red swollen lips wrapped around his length.

Kyle reaches out and traces your lips with his fingers, your lustful gaze watching his every movement. A thick strand of saliva coating his fingers before he pushes his cock into your warm inviting throat. He rocks his hips against your mouth slowly at first. Each time he pulls out more saliva gathers at the base of his cock.

You try to take as much of Kyle as you can, the soft sounds of you gagging through the wet thrusts feels messy. It was sloppy and so incredibly hog. Watching the red head lose himself, the restraints he put on himself snapping with each long glide against your tongue. Not long after you hollow your cheeks and continue to suck him off, does he finally break. His hips snap forward thrusting into your mouth faster.

Kyle is so pretty. His lips parted slightly as he struggles to bite back the moans, you're pulling from him. The hand that's no longer tracing your lips is pressed against the wall, holding him up so his legs don't give out.

What has you weak in the knees isn't the way he's got his hands in your hair, pulling your mouth down the length of his cock. Holding it there for a moment only to slide you right back off. Or the way he's using your throat to chase his own high, his thighs flexing under the touch of your palm. It's the way he's kept eye contact with you this entire time, the way his eyes are watching every little thing you do. No matter how intense it all feels or gets, he can't break away.

You have him in this trance that only seems to break when he feels himself getting close. When he tries to pull away, he feels your hands grab at his thighs, a small moan pulled from him again when you dig your nails into his flesh.

"Fuuuck...Sh-shit I'm cumming!" How sweet of him to give you a warning. With a hum you shot him a wink.

That did it. The little gesture was too much for Kyle. A shiver that feels oh too good shoots down his spine as thick ropes of cum spill into your mouth. Kyle pulls out after some time, carefully holding the side of your face as you drink down the bitter climax.

You raise to your feet with a smile, as he takes his hand away to tuck himself back into his pants. Once he's finishes, he cups your face and pulls you back towards him.

"That was...you're incredible."

"I know. But it's nice to hear." You chuckle as he pressed another kiss into your temple. "Don't think I'm done with you yet handsome. Say you walk me home and we enjoy the night to ourselves."

"I think I'd like that. Wanna sneak out the back?" With a grin you take his hand and lead him out of the room. Kyle will never ever admit to Eric that his plan somehow magically worked. But when the time comes for Eric to collect that one fifty, Kyle will make sure he gets it. At least then its bragging rights.

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strangeharpy · 1 year

Text

So earlier this morning, my friend MK sent me this fic, which hurt me deeply in all the best ways. However, since I have Renchanting/Treebark brainrot, I ended up being inspired to write something similar to answer the question "but what if Ren were there?"

So here it is, 1150 words of Martyn angst involving Ren and the end of Limited Life. Written in a mild fugue state, no betas, no nothing. Not STRICTLY Treebark but can easily be read that way. Too short for me to feel comfortable putting on AO3, but maybe I'll expand it into something fuller. Who knows?

"You did it, my dude!"

Martyn's head whips around to find the source of the voice. The last two other people on this void-forsaken server had just died by his hand—hell, Impulse's blood is still fresh on his blade. The only thing that should be left to congratulate him is the whistling of the wind through the blasted remains of the forest around him.

And yet there he is.

A few steps behind and to the right of Martyn is someone Martyn knows well. He hasn't seen him since the Double Life game; didn't get to see him enough, even then. Though Martyn knows he owns more than one set of clothes, he's dressed in what Martyn first met him in: a red shirt, blue jeans, black suspenders, dark shades. His brown ears are pricked forward in keen interest, and his tail swishes lazily behind him. He's grinning from ear to ear, and though Martyn can't see his blue eyes, he knows the smile reaches them.

"What?" Martyn manages to choke out. His throat has gone impossibly dry.

Ren spreads his arms in an expansive gesture, still grinning. "You did it! You won!"

A trickle of sweat winds its way down Martyn's neck and under his collar. In the distance, a bird chirps. His stomach churns. "That's not… you're not…"

"Not what?" Ren asks, tail pausing in its back-and-forth path.

"That's not how this works," Martyn says. "I get that, now. You don't win this. You're just—you're just the last to lose."

"That's not what you thought back in Third Life," Ren points out, gently.

"Yeah," Martyn scoffs. "And look where that got us. And even if we'd won, it would've just been us at each other's throats."

"It could've been honorable."

Martyn's eyes burn, and he blinks twice to try to get them to stop. They don't. "Didn't you see what just happened? I killed Scott before he even had a chance! There's no honor in any of this, don't you get it?"

Ren's expression turns melancholy: his grin fades and his ears and tail droop. "You don't believe that."

"The best of us always dies with you," Martyn spits. "And you weren't even here this time."

"I'm sorry, dude." Ren's apology barely rises above a whisper. "I wish I could've been there for you."

"I would've killed you." The words tumble out of Martyn's mouth before he can stop them. "I killed Scott like it was nothing. I would've killed you, too."

"I know," Ren says after a moment. "I knew from the beginning. If it came down to the two of us, I knew you wouldn't just let it be at that." He pauses, tilts his head a little as he appraises Martyn. "I think we both know I would've let you win."

Martyn scoffs again and he scrubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm. He's so tired. "Fat lot of good that would've done either of us."

"I'm sorry," Ren repeats. He reaches out, and Martyn recoils.

"You're not real. You can't be."

This statement, one that Martyn is sure will break the spell, barely seems to register. Ren merely shrugs. "I'm as real as you need me to be, dude."

"You should've been here!" Martyn finally shouts. He casts his bloodied sword aside as he takes a shaking step towards the image of Ren. "You should've been here, we should've made jokes about wet dog smell, you could've made a stupid coral crown, we could've all gone to war under the same banner!"

"I'm here now," Ren says, his words very tender. "Can't declare war on anyone, but you've still got some time left. We could watch the sunset together. Just like old times." He extends a hand.

Martyn stares at Ren's fingers; they look just as callosed as he remembers them. He can easily imagine what it would feel like to take that hand and use it to pull Ren closer. But giving into that desire would be just that little bit too far. Instead, he just lets out a breath. "Okay. Alright. I've got an hour and a half left. Might as well do something with it, and watching the sunset with a figment of my imagination is as good as anything else I can think of."

Ren's tail starts swishing again. Not as excitedly as it had been before, but it's no longer still. "Great! Where's the best place to watch on this server?"

"Most everywhere's been blown to bits," Martyn says, "but maybe we can still see something nice from the Clockers' tower."

When Ren doesn't object or supply an alternative, Martyn leads him in that direction. They make it to the top with no incident—if Scar had trapped it, the trap had worked in typical Scar fashion. The view is… not the best. The landscape is pock-marked by explosions and toppled structures, and the sky is criss-crossed by bridges and platforms used to enact the destruction.

If Ren minds, he doesn't say as such. Instead, he stares off into the distance. "Guess I missed a lot, huh?"

"You could say that." Martyn keeps his face forward, but he studies Ren's profile out of the corner of his eye. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Ren's focus on the distant landscape doesn't waver as he says, "Because you won."

"So… what, the game just pulls up a hallucination of the person I've been wanting to see this whole time just because I'm the last to lose?"

"I'm as real as you need me to be," Ren states again, this time turning to face Martyn. "Maybe I'm a figment of your imagination, or maybe I'm here because there wasn't any other way for us to see each other. What's it matter? I'm here now, and the sun's about to go down."

He's right, of course. The sun is slipping close to the horizon, casting long shadows over everything. The day is almost done, and so is Martyn's tenure as the game's 'winner.'

"You're right," Martyn sighs. "Let's just… enjoy what time we've got."

The minutes tick by. The sun creeps ever lower. Martyn's timer grows closer to the end. Finally, when the moon has risen, Ren turns to look at him.

"I'll see you again. You know that, right?"

Martyn breathes in a trembling breath. "That's what you said last time, and look where it got us."

"I'm here now, aren't I?"

"I guess so," Martyn says. "So, now what?"

"Now we wait. It won't be long now."

Martyn checks his timer. It won't be. There's only a few handfuls of seconds to spare. He could spend that time looking out at the carnage that the game had wrought on the world around them, or he could spend that time looking at Ren.

He makes his choice and he does not regret it.

His timer runs out.

#renchanting duo #treebark #limited life #limited life spoilers #writing #fanfic #do i need a 3rd life tag now?

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consistentlyamess · 5 months

Text

We'll see about that - Chapter 2⎮‘Cause you’ve got too many scars to hide

[4.8K] who?me?getting carried away? never!

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: You just wanted a fresh start but you might get more than you bargained for when the sleepy town of Hawkins lives up to its reputation.

warnings: takes place after season 4, 18+ , MDNI, slight age gap (reader is like 2 yrs older than Steve), canon typical violence, mentions of a lonely childhood, mentions of difficult relationship with parents, swearing, eventual smut, abusive relationship, brief stancy storyline, strangers to friend to lovers, pining, storm, pnaic attackish happening, mentions of blood and injuries, slowburn, flashbacks in italics, i changed a tiny thing compared to the sneak peek but i think it's better this way, sorry and lmk if i missed anything!!

A/N: HI HELLO!! thank you for your patience and all, it did take a lot longer to churn this chapter out that I expected but here we are!! comments, like reblogs are apprciated as always or just come chat at me! And as always 💜💜💜 TY for reading!!!!💜💜💜 Fic Masterlist Previous Chapter I Next Chapter Coming Soon

‘You sure you have everything?’ Laura asked with a worried look in her eyes.

‘Yeah, I think so. Wasn’t much to begin with really.’ You tried to laugh it off but it came a little broken. A little less careless than you would’ve liked.

‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more.’ Laura almost whispered and gave your upper arm a light squeeze. She tried to be encouraging but it was more along the lines of ‘I’m sorry’.

‘You did way more than you ever signed up for Lore. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here right now.’

‘I just-‘ She tried to finish but couldn’t. She just shook her head instead and searched your face a little.

‘How’s your nose?’ She touched the gauze for a second.

‘I’ll be fine Lore. It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore. The doctor said I won’t even be able to see it in a couple of months. The stitches in my eyebrows might show a little. But you’ll have to be really closely. It’s all gonna be fine. I promise.’

She nodded hurriedly, fervently. Willing your words to be true.

‘You’ll call me when you get there?’

‘Of course! And I’ll write and maybe you can come to Hawkins sometime.’ You smiled whistfully. Maybe someday.

‘Okay. Are we completely sure that the old car is taken care of?’

‘Hundred percent, yes. The plate is gone and it was sold like two states away.’ She said a lot more confidently. That they could take care of. The least they could do, she felt like

You took a deep breath.

‘Okay.’

You hugged each other and suddenly it did feel a lot more like saying goodbye. You cried in the past few weeks. A lot. But it was mostly out of frustration. Maybe anger. The sadness of it all you tried to keep hidden, even from yourself. It was too much to bear all at once. You had to keep going and if you let yourself consider the full weight of it all, it might crush you and the hole thing would fall apart. You couldn’t let that happen. For Laura. For your mom. For yourself. You kept it together though, the roared up, you watched Laura disappear in the rearview mirror and your were off. You drove about ten minutes before you had to pull over and cry for a good five minutes, uninterrupted because the tears just kept blurring your vision. This was it. You did it. You got out.

——

Fall arrived with full force in Hawkins in the middle of September. Leaves started ruffling slightly more dryly in the trees, the sun became less punishing, nights started to feel a lot more cozy with a cup of tea in your hand.

You did meet Miss Kelly in the end. As well as the other teachers. Well, the remaining ones. You never really had difficulty with creating connections. You were nice and open to people. You had a good sense of humor and way of putting people at ease fairly quickly. One of the reasons you thought Robin gravitated towards you. The teachers of Hawkins Elementary? Not so much. You, yourself were a little bit rusty. You became a tad more guarded and careful but that was nothing compared to them. They avoided eye contact, dodged every invitation and initiation of conversation. The children were a lot similar. The reward stickers didn’t work, you scaresly got a chuckle or a smile when you made jokes or tried to ease conversation. They came in, they did the work and that was it.

In this environment it didn’t take long for an uneasy feeling of impending doom to set in the pit of your stomach. It was unsettling to say the least. With work kicking in and trying to crack the code to the good graces of your students or at least easing their worries a little you didn’t really have time to hangout with the crew. You shared a coffee with Nancy here and there and you really cherished those mornings. You totally got what Steve saw in her. She was smart and kind and made you feel welcome. But under the demiour exterior she still had a kick to her. Some fire and fierceness that made you quite sure that she could kick anybody’s ass if she wanted to. Will slowly became a regular after classes to hangout, talk about art and get some tips as well. You felt a lingering sadness in him that you were all too familiar with. But you could also feel how he softened up after being shown kindness. It broke your heart a little bit but you were happy to provide those moments of serenity. A little relief feels like a lot at certain times. Jonathan usually picked him up and you chatted sometimes. You felt a kinship with that you couldn’t really place, until it was made clear that their father was also an asshole and he, just like you, was somewhat of a weird kid in high school. Everytime the topic of Nancy came up however, he immediately became more guarded and tried to avoid the subject as much as possible. You were extremely curious but didn’t want to push him.

—-

The third hiccup happens when you and Robin are arguing about a movie at Family video.

‘What? No fucking way, there’s nobody who’s hotter that Pheobe Cates!’

‘Thank you!’ You hear Steve shouting out from in between the rows. Robin gives you a ‘see?’ look.

‘Okay, not the best company, but I do stand by it. Phoebe Cates and maybe Molly Ringwald.’

‘Are you sure you’re straight?’ Robin asks you with a playful tilt in her head. You don’t have a chance to answer because the whole store shakes. It’s an earthquake. You heard about them but never experienced one. Your balance is thrown off, some tapes hit the ground but the shelves stay and for a second you’re not sure if it’s really happening. Robin then disappears behind the counter, Steve calls out and from 83 you to 92 percent certainty that it’s real. Robin emerges, Steve gets back and a blind man wouldn’t miss the look they share.

‘Peach’ Steve comes up behind you. ‘ You okay?’ He asks. He’s holding your elbow and at this point you’re not entirely sure where the disorientation is coming from. He squeezes a little harder. ‘Hey, everything’s alright, we’re all good.’

‘What was that?’ You ask in a voice that’s a little weaker that you’d like it to be.

‘It was an earthquake, they happen here sometimes, we’re all good, but I’m gonna need you to go home now, okay?’

‘But-’

‘No! Sorry, but no.’ you can feel the way he softens from one second to the other. ‘No, I need you to go home. We know how to handle this, we’ll check in tomorrow and everything will be fine, but you have to go home. Please.’ He’s pleading and the honey brown eyes have their charm whether you’re willing to admit or not. You tell yourself that he’s right. That you’re gonna be safer at home.

So you go. While you’re driving home a storm breaks out. And not just any storm. It was properly raging. Lighting after lightning came down from the sky and the thunders were just sort of blending into each other. You fucking hated storms. The wind was howling and the second you got into the apartment, you cowered away into the corner of your living room. How did it get so bad, so quickly? How was this even possible? Was this the curse everybody was talking about? Catching yourself in the whirlpool of your thoughts, you gripped your knees tighter to your chest. What a fucking pathetic sight, you thought to yourself. It’s just a fucking storm and you’re crouching in the corner like a frightened puppy. Look at yourself, and you think, you can take care of yourself. Adorable. It made your skin crawl because it was him talking. It was his words, his voice, even without him you had him in your head. Grabbing at the sides of your head you tried to stop it. Tried to physically squeeze the thoughts out. But it didn’t work. Turning the TV on also didn’t help much. Your breath quickened, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and the tears started flowing down your face. You don’t have a sense of time anymore. It might have been a few minutes, it might have been hours. You don’t even have it in you to glance at your watch.

‘Nonononono’ you practically whined. ‘No, please, stop it. Just stop it please.’ The storm, this feeling, the fear, all of it. You couldn’t drown it out and it made you feel paralyzed but also clenching all your muscles at the same time. Laura told you that her therapist suggested a check-in with herself about every 30 minutes to unclench her jaw. She told you it really helped her. You tried. You really did. But you couldn’t tell your jaw from your shoulders anymore and nothing worked.

Another shock came to your system when there was a knock at the door. Everything became even more blurred around you and you thought you might throw up. You wanted to go get the gun but you couldn’t move.

‘Go away!’ It was a guttural scream. It came from somewhere deep and instinctual that has been secluded for so long. You were sobbing at this point and then you heard it. Through everything, you still heard it.

‘Peach?! Is that you? It’s Steve. Are you hurt? Can you open the door?’

Steve. It clicks in your brain and you could swear your heart stopped the same second the thunder and lightning miss a beat. Everything is quiet just in that second and you feel like the world changes settings just for you. Like a personal little raining cloud fizzles, disappears and a warm light appears above your head that starts to melt your frozen limbs and fried out nerve endings. Your movements are still rigid but you feel your fingers twitch.

‘Steve-‘ You whisper in front of yourself and lean forward. He knocks again and you call out a little louder this time. Shedding your blanket, your body starts cooperating. Just keep crawling toward the warm voice. Still, by the time you make it to the door, he’s saying he will break it down if he has to and is not leaving until he sees you.

The door opens up and he’s standing there, relief washing over him when he lays eyes on you, just to quickly be replaced by concern again.

‘Hey, what happened, ‘re you okay?’ He wants to hold you so bad but for now is satisfied with finding your fingers in the dark and touching them. You nod, as best as you can, which admittedly is not very good.

‘W-why didn’t you ca-call?’ You ask just to regret it with the next breath because your throat and voice are wrecked from the sobbing.

‘Phone lines are out. I also didn’t want to spook you. The last time you got a phone call, you acted a little funny...’ He gets it out in one breath, rushing through the sentence. ‘What happened, did you get hurt?’ He looked you over, searching for something. Teared fabric, blood, something. You put your hands on his shoulder in an attempt to calm or at least slow him down and it only registers properly then that he’s fully drenched.

‘Shit, you’re completely soaked through! Come in, let’s get you dry.’ You’re still unsure of your movements but you usher him in, despite his muffled and somewhat weak protests. He wanted to stay but unlike you he did have some teared fabric and blood on him that you were yet to notice. He didn’t want you to see that but he did crave some comfort after watching Nancy holding Jonathan’s hand while Robin patched him up. He was selfish, he knew that. He tried to tell himself that it has to mean something that after his arm was bitten by a demobat his first thought was to check on you on his way home. He just wanted to see your house, maybe some lights, possibly you moving in front of a window. But he couldn’t see anything other than the flickering of the TV and after the night he didn’t take it as a good sign. Or just really wanted to see you. He thinks both might be possible, even if the letter might make him a little creepy.

You lead him to the bathroom, the new purpose giving a little stillness to your limbs and voice.

‘I can put your clothes in the drier for a quick round and get you something to change into. The guy who lived here left some st- Jesus fucking Christ what the hell happened to you?’ the moment you turned on the light you saw it. The cuts, the bruises, the blood, some dried, some fresh.

‘You should see the other guy’ he tried to give you a cheeky smile but you could tell he was hurting.

‘Did you get into a fight? Who did this?’

‘Yeah, something like that. But I’m gonna be fine, I promise, I’ve had much worse. Ask anyone, Dustin we’ll gladly tell you about every single time I got my ass handed to me.’ His face is hurting, he’s cold but all he can think about at this moment is that he hates you’re worrying about him. He hates the way your eyebrows crease together as you try to assess the damage he’s taken. He hates the way your hands hesitate to reach out. You clearly had a rough night yourself and he hates he’s making it worse. You open your mouth like you’re gonna say something but it closes again.

‘Okay’ you say finally. ‘Sit down, I’ll get the first aid kit.’

He’s dumbfounded for a moment but ultimately glad you’re not asking questions. He’s agitated, he’s scared, he’s alone and he doesn’t trust himself with keeping a secret now. If you start asking it might all just spill out from him which he desperately wants to avoid. You can’t get anywhere near this. Well, not any nearer.

You come back with hands full of stuff - dry clothes hanging off of your arm, a glass of water in your hand, the first aid kit in the other.

‘Here’ you start by handing him the water. After laying the clothes on the side of the tub, you hand him an aspirin. ‘This’ll take care of the pain for now. You can take a shower if you want to, then I’ll disinfect your wounds, get some bandages and if you get a good night’s sleep, you’ll be better by tomorrow.’ You spoke so softly, he immediately calmed down and for a moment even forgot that he just barged in on you, on your weekend no less. He forgot to look away for a second though and his eyes started searching yours. Your face was puffy, your eyes were red and there were some sniffles here and there.

‘Were you crying before I got here?’

‘Thank you usually works in this situation.’

‘Shit, I’m sorry, I am very thankful but I came here in the first place to make sure you were okay and as far as I can tell, you’re not.’

‘I- It’s just… I fucking hate storms.’ Your arms come up, wrapping around yourself. Not being able to hold his gaze you glance down to the tiles and take a deep breath. ‘I’ll be fine, I just want it to be over.’ You start moving for the first aid kit. ‘But you’re a pretty good distraction, so let’s get you cleaned up, shell we?’ You leave him to change and when you go back he’s sitting on the top of the closed toilet waiting for you. You’re meticulous but soft, determined but attentive and the way you balance the disinfectant, the cotton pads is almost hypnotic to him. In return the sense of purpose anchors you and you’re able to tune out almost everything that’s not connected to helping Steve. When you get to a particularly nasty cut above his eyebrow, he hisses.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m almost done.’

‘No, you’re okay, this is what you’re supposed to do, right?’ He quotes you back to you and even as his eyes are shut tight you can tell that his face is about an inch away from slipping into a smug grin. He makes you chuckle and he swears it’s a better painkiller than the actual pill you gave him.

‘Okay, there are a couple of pretty deep cuts here. I’m gonna need you to hold still. Hold onto something and tell me about a good memory.’

‘A good memory?’

‘Yeah. I learned it with kids. When I have to tend to them, making them talk keeps their mind occupied and lets me apply the disinfectant or put a bandaid on.’

‘Huh, that’s smart’ he looks up at you with a goofy grin and sparkling eyes and you have to clear your throat to remind yourself what you were doing.

‘So, good memory. You have anything?’

‘Yeah, sorry, yeah, I got it. Do your worst.’

‘Alright, start talking, pretty boy.’ The nickname slips out so effortlessly, you almost don’t notice it. The way his lips part a little and the tip of his ears run pink clues you in that you did indeed say it out loud and he did hear you.

‘Uhm, yeah, I, uh, the first thing that came to mind was the day I got my car. And before you roll your eyes, I know how it sounds and for a long time it was like that. Being the only 17 year old who was driving around in a brand new BMW instead of a banged up used car my parents passed down was pretty sweet. It was a guilt present from my dad because he forgot my birthday that year.’ A peng of pain hits your heart. He doesn’t sound very hurt now but you can imagine it wasn’t always like this. ‘I could drive my friends and girls around and it did feel like a sanctuary sometimes. Then those friends turned out to be not very good people, the girls turned out to be more interested in the car and pool in the backyard than me and shit happened and I got my heart broken and then I started driving this little shithead around and the car didn’t change and I basically still just drive people around but those people happen to really like me, for god knows why, and it got us out of some deep shit and I’m actually afraid of the day when it breaks down finally or I have to sell it or anything because half of my goddamn life is in that car.’ You pull away as he finishes his story and let his hair fall back to his forehead. You move back for a second to wipe a stray lock away from his eyes and then lean back to the sink. Your voice is barely above whisper as you speak again.

‘You’re all done.’ He touches his face carefully and you watch him with soft eyes. ‘Thank you for telling me that. Technically it wasn’t one memory but I’ll let it slide for now.’

His smiles.

‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’ You ask, tilting your head, crossing your arms.

‘A good memory. I just laid my heart out for you, it would make me feel better if I wasn’t the only one.’

‘Okay, first of all, you told a semi-moving story about how much you love your car, ‘laying your heart out’ is a tad dramatic.’ You start packing the stuff you spread around the bathroom. ‘Second of all, I don’t need to be cleaned up or distracted, so maybe next time.’

‘Well, that’s not fair! C’mon, just one, just a tiny little story.’

‘God, you’re unbearable!’ You roll your eyes playfully. ‘This wasn’t part of the agreement and-’ You don’t get to finish the sentence because there’s a particularly loud crash, thunder and lightning coming down with a real fury. You jump with a gasp bumping your knee on the side of the tub.

‘Fuck’

‘Hey, hey, hey,’ Steve calls, coming up behind you. ‘You’re okay, it’s okay, it’s just a storm.’ He turns you to face him so he can find your eyes. He’s lying through his teeth but he needs you to believe that it’s just a storm. You’re too smart and stubborn for your own good. He can’t slip.

‘I just really fucking hate storms.’ You say as you lay your forehead on his shoulder.

‘Yeah, I got that.’ He’s careful, he holds you so lightly because he’s scared you’re gonna come to your senses and pull away before he can properly figure out which floral scent is coming from your hair and which one is your perfume and can properly memorize the little baby hair on the nape of your neck or imagine how it would feel to be tickled by them in the morning.

‘Just breath, I’m here. And maybe if you need some distraction, you could tell me about that good memory, now?’

You don’t look up, but you chuckle a little.

‘Well, when I was a little girl there was this treehouse in the neighbor's yard. I was so jealous of it, I wanted it to have one so badly, or just go up in it, just once. But the house was mostly vacant and I got caught by my mom one time when I was trying to climb the fence, so I just stared at it and wished that someday, maybe I could play in it.’

Your voice was a little muffled because you were talking at the bathroom tiles but Steve was listening intently. He pictured you with a petulant little pout, sitting in a garden, burning holes in the treehouse with your eyes. It made him smile.

‘And then one day, out of nowhere, a family moved in. They had a daughter, Lilly, and she just invited me over one day when she saw me in the garden. We played and talked and given it’s not that hard to make friends when you’re eight, we did become inseparable almost instantly. I had such a good time, I almost forgot about the treehouse. I would’ve been happy to just spend the whole afternoon curled up in the grass, talking but then she said she wanted to show me her treehouse and I nearly started crying, I was so excited. We went up and it was everything I wanted and more. I think that was the highest I’ve ever been at that point, I could see the whole neighborhood and it felt like nothing could touch me there.’

‘We spent so much time there. It became like a sanctuary too. We went there when we got our first crushes, when she got yelled at, when we wanted to feel safe. On some summer nights we even slept out there and I think those were the best nights of my life.’

During your story Steve was stroking your arm up and down, soothing you, saying with every touch ‘I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be your new treehouse, all you have to do is ask me’.

‘Technically that wasn’t one memory either but I liked it, so I’m gonna let you get away with it.’ He squeezes your arm one last time and lets go slowly, trying to get you to look up at him.

‘The storm passed I think. It’s just the rain now.’

‘Is it gonna come back?’

‘I’m not sure. Maybe. Hawkins has some weird weather sometimes.’

‘Hawkins seems to have weird everything sometimes.’

‘Yeah, that’s fair.’

With the weather getting back to something you can handle and the house quiet with the dim lights of the bathroom it starts hitting you how close the two of you are standing and how this whole thing has been very, well, for lack of a better word, cozy. Even if it was only the instinct to help someone, he quite literally saved your night. Maybe even you. You’re wondering why exactly he came here in the first place and you find some kind of answer in the way he's looking at you, the way he stayed with you in the storm. It’s the same need to take care of people. It’s the driving the little shitheads around even though they really are shitheads, it’s the trying to distract someone from pain and hurt by making them think about something nice, something happy, it’s the holding a burned hand under cold water and it’s the swiping a lock of hair away so it doesn’t land in their eyes. It’s not something that just leaves you. Heartbreaks and grief can suppress it for a while but the world has a funny way of bringing it out again in the most unexpected moments. Like in a tiny, poorly lit bathroom during a storm from hell, trying to wipe the blood from the cheekbones of the prettiest boy. You inhale sharply because your insistence to keep your distance might be wavering and you know it’s a bad idea. Steve’s still into Nancy, Nancy’s with Jonathan, Jonathan is acting weird, well, everyone’s acting weird. But you keep looking at each other and you’re almost a hundred percent sure, he has similar thoughts running through his mind.

‘I uh, I should go, I think, I don’t want to bother you anymore.’ He starts talking finally, running a hand down the back of his neck.

‘You weren’t bothering me. If it wasn’t for you I would still be curled up in the corner of my living room.’

‘I can, you know, I can stay too. In a completely non-creepy way. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’ll gladly keep on distracting all night if needed.’

You don’t miss the slight double-entendre painting the words and you raise an eyebrow.

‘In a non-creepy way, huh?’ He gets flustered when he fully understands what you mean and what he just said. He’s about to start protesting but his nerves prevent him from being quick on his feet. You save him, mercifully.

‘I know what you mean, relax. And thank you, it’s very knight in shining armor of you but I’ll be okay now. You should go home, take a hot shower, drink some tea and get into bed. I’ll throw your clothes in the drier and get them back to you.’

‘Alright, yeah, you’re right. Thank you for taking care of me, Peach. You’re a lot better at this than I am or god forbid Robin.’

‘It’s alright. Thank you for distracting me, Harrington!’

‘Back to second names? Really? After all we’ve been through in the last like two hours?’

‘I mean, I gotta be careful. Can’t call you everytime there’s a storm, now can I? Gotta keep it professional.’

‘You can. You can call me in every storm. You can call me without a storm too, I left my number for a reason.’ You wince a little.

‘Yeah, sorry I haven’t called, I guess. I’ve just been so busy with school and everything.’ You couldn’t let him know that you tried. You tried so many times but chickened out at the last second every single time.

‘It’s okay. I can wait. You know where to find me.’

He starts walking towards the door and you follow him out. You fall back into silence again, listening to the rain on the roof and the remains of the wind quietly howling outside.

‘Most of the bandages will last like a week I think but you should change the one above your eyebrow and the one on your left cheek sometime tomorrow.’

‘Thanks Doc. And seriously, call me if you need anything.’

‘Okay.’ You whisper with a soft smile.

‘Good night, sweetheart. Get some sleep.’ He says as he comes close to you. He hesitates for a minute and then presses a barely there kiss to your hairline.

‘Good night’ you whisper back.

You clock the slight pause after he gets in the car and you watch as the maroon BMW leave. You wonder if this is going to be one of those moments you regret, wishing you could say what you wanted to say, wishing you could just ask him to stay or one of those moments you’ll see as dodging a bullet, wishing you could see everything in that moment.

#steve harrington fic #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington slowburn #robin buckley #robin stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #nancy wheeler #nancy stranger things #jonathan byers #jonathan stranger things #argyle stranger things #we'll see about that #WSAT #WSAT fic

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hopetorun · 7 months

Note

u should tell me something about home by now brady & quinn! dealers choice as to pre or post fic

let’s visit our boys in march of 2020, well before the story begins—

When the league announces the pause, Quinn calls his mom first. She already knows, obviously, but he lets her fret at him for a few minutes anyway, and promises to come home as soon as he knows for sure that it'll be more than a week or two. He mumbles "love you" into the phone as he hangs up, and then calls Jack. After Jack, he calls Luke, who sounds like he was napping or maybe is still napping and is just mumbling at Quinn in his sleep.

After talking to Luke, for a given value of talking, he answers a text from his dad and then holds his phone in his hand, list of favorite contacts open, thumb hovering over Brady's name for agonizing seconds. And then he touches the screen and holds the phone up to his ear while it rings.

He’s painfully aware that Brady might not answer. It’s not like it went well the last time they talked. Quinn remembers it so well that it still makes his heart clench up. The way Brady sounded when he said he felt like he wasn’t a priority for Quinn. The rough edge to his voice, closer to tears than Quinn can ever remember, and the way he kept looking away from his phone, like he didn’t want Quinn to see it even through the shitty FaceTime call.

The way Quinn just let it all happen, his mind still half on the conversation he had with Jack half an hour earlier. Jack rambling at him, talking aimlessly about nothing at all for forty minutes just because he didn’t want Quinn to hang up, and Quinn unable to bring himself to interrupt him and say that Brady was calling, he needed to hang up and talk to Brady.

It’s not that Brady was wrong that he wasn’t getting as much of Quinn’s attention as he deserved. Quinn just thought he’d understand. It’s not like Quinn could just leave Jack hanging.

They didn’t talk again after that. After Brady asked for a few set hours a week where Quinn would hang up on his brothers and Quinn wouldn’t promise it flat out. “Not all the time,” Brady said, and “If something changes just give me a heads up, yeah?” and Quinn’s stomach still churned as he shook his head. Brady wasn’t the one who had to listen to Jack’s nerves at all hours and report back to their parents when they were only getting the sanitized version and play his own rookie season too. Brady’s not the oldest, and sometimes that feels like a big deal.

Quinn thinks about all of that in the time it takes for Brady’s phone to ring three times, and then the ringing stops and he expects the tinny, old version of Brady’s voice that’s his voicemail and instead he gets—

“Quinn? Is everything okay?”

—and he thinks he might actually throw up from relief.

He must take too long to get himself together, because Brady keeps talking. “Are you sick? Is your family? Do you need me to call someone? Do you need me to come out there?”

Quinn’s chest is too small, his heart beating too fast. He can feel his pulse pounding in his temple and his fingertips. “I’m okay. Everyone’s okay.” Deep breath, another. “You don’t need to do anything.” Pretend his voice doesn’t sound raw. “I just needed to talk to you. Be sure you’re okay.”

Brady inhales, sharp, and exhales like he’s sighing in Quinn’s ear. “I’m okay,” he says. “We’re all okay.”

“Thank fuck,” Quinn says, which is at least better than you’re the person I always want to call when I’m scared or I wish we could sleep in the same bed tonight. He doesn’t think he’s allowed to say those to Brady anymore. Not after they stopped talking. After they broke up? It felt like a breakup, even if they never said the word. Even if Quinn never thought about anyone else. Who could compare to Brady, anyway?

“Are you gonna go home?” Brady asks. Quinn tells him his plan. He should apologize, probably. Tell Brady that he still wants him. Doesn’t want anyone else.

“What about you?” he says instead.

“I’m going home, yeah,” Brady says. “I’ll figure it out if it’s complicated getting back but—it’s my family, you know?”

There’s a lump in Quinn’s throat making it hard to talk. He tries to swallow it down and doesn’t succeed. “Sorry if I freaked you out,” he says. Non-sequitur, but he’s not ready to apologize for the other stuff yet.

“It’s okay.” Brady’s voice is warm. Quinn’s so used to being comforted by it. “You know you can always call if you need—if you need help or something. Even if we’re—you know. Like this.”

Quinn sniffs, and Brady does him the courtesy of pretending he doesn’t hear it. “What are we like?” he asks.

Brady’s shrug is practically audible. “I don’t know. Broken up?”

Hearing it makes Quinn ache, even if it’s true. Even if he already knew.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. Doesn’t add I love you or any of the other things broken up people aren’t supposed to say. The silence lasts too long and Brady, uncharacteristically, doesn’t break it. So Quinn does, by saying, “This sucks.”

“Which part?”

He considers for a moment. “All of it,” he says, finally.

Brady laughs. “Yeah. Okay.”

Quinn caves at the sound of his laugh. “I miss you.”

It takes a long time for Brady to respond to that. Long enough for Quinn’s stomach to start churning and his pulse to pick up again. Maybe Brady doesn’t—maybe he’s found someone else—maybe he doesn’t think Quinn is worth it anymore.

“You promise?” is what Brady finally says.

“I always miss you,” Quinn says. Hopeless, pathetic, the same way he’s been for years. “No one else is like you.”

Brady makes this noise, horrible and hopeful and everything Quinn’s ever wanted. “Call me tomorrow? When you miss me.” He pauses, and reads Quinn’s anxiety perfectly. “I promise I’ll pick up.”

#ask maggie #home by now #my fic #fic by daisysusan #apparently i can’t insert a break on mobile? sorry to your tls i’ll fix it in a few minutes

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slayonehundredninetytwo · 5 months

Note

Personally I’d LOVE to see a fic of Han getting overexcited and eating a bit too much than his tummy could handle. I also think he’s definitely the type to eat too many sweets and give himself a tummy ache!

Also, bonus idea: I also think Chan is the type to maybe overeat during the holidays. We’ve seen a few times that he can eat a fair amount in one sitting, so why wouldn’t he over-do it when he has free time?

Mmmm hot chocolate. Man, Han loves hot chocolate. It’s freezing out, but sitting by the fireplace all cozied up in a blanket and sipping on his coco. Well, not really sipping. More like gulping.

“Woah Ji. You drank that very fast! ‘Want some more?”

“Yes please Binnie, thankyou. While you’re up, can you grab me some of those little reindeer candies?”

“Sure.” He carefully poured the hot chocolate into the mug as to not spill. Adding a handful of marshmallows and a hefty serving of whipped cream, just like how Han likes it. Then he grabbed some of ‘those little reindeer candies’ and brought them back to the cozy Han by the fireplace. Han gratefully took the mug from Changbin and got started on Hot Coco round two, listening to Hyunjin telling some kind of childhood christmas story. He’s surprised that when the story came to an end and he picked up his mug for another “sip”, he found his cup was empty again, already. He also realized that those little reindeer gummies were all gone now. Woops. He thought to himself. He tried to listen into the conversation, but was distracted by the churning and sloshing his stomach. Clearly, his stomach was not happy. Maybe that second mug of coco wasn’t a good idea, especially not so fast.

His stomach angrily growled at him, as if to say “I’ll make you regret that.”

Okay, that second mug of coco was definitely not a good idea.

Changbin saw the color draining from his dongsaeng’s face.

“You doing okay there Ji?”

“Y-yeah… too much hot chocolate is all. I’m f-“

But before he could really answer, he was interrupted by the feeling of his hot cocoa launching up his throat.

He jolted up and practically sprinted to the bathroom. The moment he got in there it all spewed out of him against his will through his fingers and hit the tile. He stepped over it and managed to get the next heave into the toilet. It was almost entirely hot chocolate either with little chunks of gummy. It tasted much better going down than coming up. He felt Changbin’s muscular hand on his back, comforting him, which he escaped from, signaling to Changbin that he wanted to be alone. Luckily, it didn’t take long to get up before he left the bathroom. He found a worried Changbin waiting outside. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Han.

“I know I know, self control and all, I’ve learned my lesson, don’t need to hear it.”

“I was just going to say that no one knows why you ran off. So you don’t have to be embarrassed. I told them you really needed to pee. They bought it.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m expecting a really good Christmas gift now.”

“Alright then.” He laughed.

🫶☕️🎄

#chitchat192 #skz sickfic #stray kids sickfic #kpop sickfic #skz emeto #mini sickfic

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cr0g-0 · 1 year

Text

Hi everyone here is the second installment in the Prank au! Im sorry that mcyt g/t content has been seemingly placed to the side, i just find myself getting into other things more. I can assure you all that I will be posting a few fics in mcyt g/t but not a lot. so enjoy the prank au! Picks up from the end of the last fic so read that first! under the prank au tag tw- Dehumanization, Angst, Implied hard vore(NONE HAPPENS), arguments, implied vore

word count- 2296

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A Great Divide Between You and Me (When Did you become so cruel?) [II]

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The trip downstairs was as comfortable as it could get while, ya know…being in a slimy gut. Sure it was squishy and that provided a nice barrier to get slung around in but it was still nasty.

He wrung out his tail before leaning up against the stomach wall, listening to Tommy’s breathing and voice as he spoke so casually to his family. He closed his eyes, imagining the scene that was before Tommy.

His brother, lounging casually and reading some book about Greek mythology and drinking some of the caffeine that Techno almost always desperately needed.

Phil was probably doing a little dusting, making sure to be careful as he cleaned the living room up as to make sure he wasn’t lurking around anywhere he could get hurt. Phil always did make sure he was careful of not scaring him and it had been what-a total of three years and he still made sure to be as courteous and kind as he had the first time they had a conversation.

Those thoughts kept him grounded and feeling relatively safe for all of a few minutes. If he had been counting he was sure it would fall below the five minute mark.

He heard muffled shouts but Tommy’s were definitely the loudest since he was inside the teenager…

The words that Tommy were saying felt…felt wrong? Tommy had never said things before and yeah, he knew this whole thing was a prank and none of it was true but…

But the words stung…more like a wasp sting than a bee sting…

What Tommy was saying made him feel uncomfortable and unsafe and he felt like he was near those wasps like when he was a kid.

He felt…

Scared.

He squirmed around in the stomach, suddenly feeling so very unsafe and uncomfortable inside of the stomach.

When the muffled shouts got louder and seemingly more angry everything seemed to go so fast as he was tossed around the slimy and plush walls, letting out a surprised yelp.

What in primes name was happening?

Wilbur nearly screamed as the mush of cereal entered the stomach with him and he cringed. He thought Tommy wasn’t going to eat with him inside!

He pushed away some of the food before hearing a loud belch come from above and he shuddered. He was ok! Tommy wasn’t going to kill him…this was just a joke…

He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Alright. This was alright he was alright.

He vaguely heard a bowl slam into the table, the spoon clattering. Then shouts and more loud noises that were thankfully muffled.

“You know what fuck you Techno! I was doing you a favor!! You are making too big a deal about this!”

Tommy shrieked loudly and Wilbur covered his ears, whimpering a little before shoving the walls. “T-Tommy please quiet down an-and-“ Wilbur was cut off as he was thrown back and around.

“Don’t you shove me prick-It’s too late. The pest is gone.”

His blood turned to ice and his stomach churned. He felt sick and his mind yelled but he forced any thoughts away.

Tommy didn’t mean any of that shit he was just doing his act that was all. Techno should understand this was a prank.

Wilbur tried to get back to his feet and stabilize himself but he was once again tossed forward, crashing uncomfortably into another one of the fleshy walls in his…in his (Prison) temporary home-

His hands pressed down on the plush walls and he gagged a little cringing at the slime that coated his hands and he pushed away. Prime this place was disgusting he couldn’t wait to be let out.

Over all the commotion and barely hearing a lick of context he finally-finally heard another voice that managed to reach his ears.

A voice he had come to love.

A voice that comforted him and soothed him when he got scared or when he had a nightmare.

A voice he started calling and associating as “Dad” just last year.

“BOYS-stop fighting right now!”

——-

Phil glared at both of the arguging teenagers with venom, eyes glistening with fresh tears while he cheeks had tear tracks running down them.

Techno and Tommy immediately stopped …surprisingly…and stood straighter, looking at there father with a bare minimum of shame.

“I do not want either of you near or even in the same house as each other till tonight. Do you both understand me?”

He asked, anger seeping into his tone but Tommy could tell that none of it was directed at Techno.

All of it was directed at him.

The shorter blond crossed his arms, making sure to squeeze a little around his stomach just to get on Techno’s nerves further. He was a tad shocked when he heard a pathetic sounding yelp from his stomach but rolled his eyes.

Whatever, he needed to focus on making sure no one knew the borrower was still alive. It’d ruin everything if it kept moving and making noises like that. Thankfully no one heard it as his arms seemed to muffled it along with his clothes.

“Tommy, go grab a bag and leave my house until dinner. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” Phil asked. His voice was cold though Tommy didn’t miss the way it cracked.

Out of the corner of Tommy’s vision he could see Techno already curling his hands back into fists and he made sure to squeeze a little more. Techno’s hands tightened, knuckles turning white. Tommy ignored him before nodding at his father.

“Oh believe me I wouldn’t dream of coming back till dinner tonight. Means I can go hang out with my friends and shit.” He grinned, proving to his family even further he hadn’t cared about the borrower. All as planned.

He smirked, walking quickly past Techno who stomped after him, only being stopped by Phil who stopped him. He whispered something into his ear and that seemed to diffuse Techno a little.

He looked defeated.

He went to the charging station, grabbing his phone off the charger and his bag. “Alright! I’ll be off! Don’t miss me too much~!” He giggled before opening the door.

He waved, got nothing back and then exited out of the house, a much more sinister smile forming on his face. Oh this would be fun…

———-

This was fucking scaring him now. This was no longer Fucking funny.

Wilbur tried to keep himself stable inside the stomach, hearing his brother’s somehow off putting giggle. He…He really wasn’t liking it anymore…

The pouch he was stuck in swung side to side gently and he couldn’t help but cringe a little at some of the food Tommy had put in the fleshy pouch with him. He…He must have put it in there cause he briefly forgot Wilbur was there! Yeah-that was it.He fidgeted with his hands. He kind of wanted to stretch himself out a little more. The storage was comfortable for the most part, even if he hated the warmth and slime and mostly everything about the spongy area it wasn’t awful!...He just wanted to stretch.No other reason.Definitely not because he wanted to talk to Tommy and maybe get a moment to ask and confirm, though he wasn’t sure why he needed to do that! It was obvious Tommy was playing around…but still, just in case he wanted to ask if he was really joking.He’d rather be safer than sorry after all.

———————

Tommy walked through the neighborhood, pulling out his phone and dialing Tubbo’s number, still smiling like a child who had just been given all the candy ever.

The phone rang a few times. Then, at long last, when Tommy was ready to leave a voicemail, he picked up.

“Hey Tommy how are you today? What are you and Wil up to?” He asked. Tommy smirked, patting his stomach. “I’m great! Me and Wil aren’t doing annnny antics today. As a matter of fact, he’s comfortable. Got him a new permanent room and he’s settling in very, very well. What are you and Boo up to aside setting up for your pranks tomorrow?”

Ranboo and Tubbo did april fools a little differently than Tommy and Wilbur did. While Wilbur and him did a prank on the day of and involved every single person, Tubbo and Ranboo only did pranks the day after and only with each other.

Tubbo’s huff was heard through the speaker as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Well-“ he started “I don’t think we’re doing pranks because Ranboo is gonna be busy all day. He’s working with Niki at the bakery and he won’t have any time to prepare and I’d feel really bad if I pranked him and he couldn’t prank me back.”

Tommy continued his walk, humming along to Tubbo’s words as he kept on the cracked sidewalk to his next location. The reason he wasn’t going to Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s place was because they lived a little too far away to walk to.

He glanced around the area, pausing for just a moment as his stomach growled loudly and he pat it again. He should get something to eat and soon. He was starving.

That borrower and cereal didn’t fill him up at all. He swore that because the borrower tasted so good it should have filled him up more but oh well-he could always find another borrower.

Maybe Bad wouldn’t mind if he had just a small taste of Sk-

No. What was he thinking-Skeppy was his friend! He couldn’t even try a taste of someone else's borrower-that would be horribly rude.

“Dude, that sucks. Think you two and Niki’ll be able to come to dinner tonight though? Wilbur really wants everyone to be there for our prank. It’s going to definitely make the dinner muuuuch better.” He cackled a little. This was gonna be fucking great. If he got those three there, then the prank was going to be looooads better.

Niki and Wilbur went way back. They had started out slightly rocky, Wilbur was of course nervous during the second year when they had done that forgetting prank but Niki had been kind and went slow.

Ranboo and Tubbo had met Wilbur the same day and he had relaxed so much when Ranboo was somehow more nervous and delicate than anyone had previously thought possible.

Tubbo had been extremely polite and the chaotic energy the two shared gave Phil and Ranboo around one or two heart attacks. It had been incredibly funny until Niki and Techno had attempted to tackle Tubbo his attempt to put Wilbur on the highest shelf in the kitchen.

A shuffling noise could be heard over the speaker, shaking him from his memories. Tubbo sounded like he was searching for something around him. Papers ruffled and dishes clattered. He must be in his office or something like that.

“I’m sure we can be there! I know Wilbur doesn’t get to see boo and me all too often and I know he misses Niki’s baking so I’ll see if they can make a cake for him! I mean-they probably won’t wanna miss tonight anyway since this is the anniversary of them all meeting.”

Tubbo prattled on and on but Tommy wasn’t listening anymore. He must be talking about whatever Ranboo and Niki were baking or supposed to be baking today. That shit didn’t matter though. The important information had already been shared.

It was Niki, Ranboo and Tubbo’s anniversary of meeting Wilbur.

Wilbur, who they saw as a friend.

As a person. Not a snack.

That was the best, most exciting news he heard all day.

———-

Wilbur was…he felt awful and scared and he felt more uncomfortable each word and step his…

The brunet shook his head a little, the stomach gurgling and pressing in on him much to his discomfort.

“T-Tommy…? Can you please let me out?” He let out in a weak voice, pushing at the walls to try and get more space before he felt a hand on the outside of his hell pat at where he was situated, his smugness practically emanating from his surroundings and from Tommy’s voice.

Why the hell was Tommy being like this!? Of course it was a prank and it was supposed to be like Tommy was a dickhead who hated him, sure but…

But if that was the case then why the fuck was this feeling so real? He hated that it felt so fucking real and he felt like it wasn’t an act.

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach at the thought of it not being an act. That it was actually real. Three years of bonding and brotherly friendship thrown in the trash so Tommy could have nothing but a quick snack.

Fresh tears flooded his vision as his mind began to blur and fuzz up everything as it all suddenly sunk in again.

Tommy didn’t care about him. He just liked the idea of what he could do with him. Of what he was doing with him right now.

What if it was the same with Techno? And-And Phil? What if everyone hated him? Wanted to do what Tommy had beaten them to doing?!

Oh prime oh prime oh prime he was a goner-

He began hyperventilating, trying to stabilize himself in the stomach that was perfectly content making him more distressed.

His ears only caught one last thing that made his blood curdle and his body freeze.

“Alright see you tonight Tub’s! I gotta go though I just got to Dream’s place.”

#the prank #prank au #mcyt g/t #mcyt vore #tw vore #tw vore mention #tiny!wilbur #tiny!skeppy #giant!tubbo #giant!techno #giant!phil #giant!dream #giant!tommy #giant!ranboo #giant!niki #smog writes

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abugwritesstuff · 2 years

Text

a summer surprise

here it is! this is the toa pregnancy fic as requested by @stnskitten. additional shoutout to @codename-corbeau, who mentioned the idea of toa realizing first which i thought was very in-character and decided to adopt for this instead of having the MC find out first 😛

this has also been cross-posted to ao3!

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Late summer was a gorgeous time on the Isle of Colde. Classes were still partially in session at this time unlike back on Earth in my country, but even that wasn’t enough to drive away the happiness of the season. After classes, we’d spend countless hours lounging outside in the warmth or strolling through the bustle of the town markets full to bursting with summer produce. More than once we were let out of class early for summertime holidays. It was my second time experiencing a Colde summer, and I felt that with each year it only got sweeter. The summer also brought with it additional time spent with my paramour Toa: time that got ahead of me on more than one occasion, leading me to sprint out of his room or back inside from the courtyard in order to make it to a class.

It also meant that I forgot to notice when certain things were absent. When Toa called me to his room that day, I thought little of it. I often came to his room and we would spend hours either going over homework assignments from the day, sampling new exotic candies and drinking perfectly paired teas, listening to new music or… doing other things. Any of it was a possibility.

When I opened the door, I found him at the door already and oddly pensive.

“Oh! Toa! Are we… going out?” I asked, a bit perplexed at his sudden nearness.

He shook his head and grasped my hand, tugging me over to his settee. He sat beside me and peered at me in concern, his brows knit together in concentration as though he were trying to see into my head to read my thoughts. I stared back, confused.

“Uhm… Toa? What’s going on…?”

“Have you begun your period?”

I blinked. “I… what?”

“Your period. When was your last one?” he pressed.

The serious look in his eyes made me squirm and I looked away as I wracked my brain. Sure enough, it had been a while longer than usual since my last one. I bit my lip. “Oh, I don’t know. It was sometime before your birthday. Early July, I think.”

Toa sat back stiffly, thinly veiled alarm flashing in his eyes. He sucked in a breath and wrung his hands a bit. “It’s late August.”

Now I caught his meaning. My stomach churned a bit at the implication but I choked it down with an anxious laugh. “I mean, sometimes these things happen. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s only… what? A few weeks late?” I went to hold his hand but grabbed at air as he stood up to pace the room anxiously.

“You’re not usually irregular,” he mumbled.

“You noticed that?”

He stopped and stared at me. “…Of course I did. I’ve been bringing you extra chocolates the same week every month for over a year.”

“O-oh. Yeah. Right.”

Toa closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “This… could be…” he shook his head, not daring to say the obvious thing out loud. I swore I could hear my own blood pumping in my ears as I watched him drag a hand down his face. “…Have you happened to take a test?”

Right then, the door behind us swung open and Knight poked his head in.

“For tea today do you want-”

“No tea today, Knight. Please leave us alone for now.” Toa cut him off and waved him away urgently. Knight left quickly, looking puzzled by the reaction and the door closed behind him. As he looked back to me, I could see the rising anxiety in his eyes as he grabbed my hands in his. “Are you experiencing any symptoms of any sort? Are you feeling unwell?”

I shook my head. “I feel fine. And no, I haven’t taken a test.”

“…Okay…” he mumbled distantly. He studied my face with furrowed brows before letting out a sigh. “I will get one for you from the infirmary myself tonight. Come to my room again after classes finish tonight.”

I could see the cogs turning behind his eyes and from the looks of it, none of them were leading to places he wanted to go. He turned away and sat on the settee again, a hand over his chest. I followed and sat down beside him. Knowing him, it’d be hard to offer any sort of comfort while he was running through his mental calculus of possible outcomes and worst case scenarios. By now I’d seen him do it a million times and usually had to wait for him to wear himself out a bit before I could pull him out of his head. I placed one hand on his knee and in a low voice whispered, “Hey. We don’t know anything yet. It could be a total fluke. I mean, sometimes periods are just weird. Anything can affect them.”

He looked over at me and attempted a smile that barely pulled the corners of his lips. “Yes. I could also have gotten you pregnant,” he whispered back weakly. “I…” he didn’t finish that thought and instead stared out into the middle distance.

“Hey, um… I will see you tonight. I love you.” I leaned over and kissed his temple then stood, slinging my book bag over my shoulder. “I’ll come over immediately after my last class.”

“…Right.”

I didn’t need to be by his side to know that the time between my first visit to his room and my second would be torturous for him. Oddly, I found myself feeling more even-keeled than him, which was outside of our usual norm of me panicking and Toa holding me and reasoning me through it. Trouble was that I knew there was little for me to say to reassure him. There were a million things that a prince of Qelsum wasn’t supposed to do, and this had to be one of the things at the very top.

When I arrived at his room that evening, he pulled me inside and locked the door instantly with a flash of blue magic, then double checked the room’s soundproofing before leading me over to the couch. From his pocket he retrieved the test, an odd circular object with a white center.

“That looks different than the ones on Earth.” I remarked.

Silent, he placed the test onto the coffee table, gestured for us to sit, and took one of my hands in his. “It tests the blood for certain strains of magic,” he replied, his voice artificially flat and even. “…as well as hormones. I have to prick your finger.”

I offered him my thumb, which he pricked to bleed with magic (whispering “sorry” under his breath as he did) and then held over the test as three drops of blood fell into the white center of the test, glowing and then disappearing as it began to turn various different colors. He immediately wrapped my finger up in a small bandage and then held both my hands in his as he stared at the test.

“How long does it take?” I asked.

“About three minutes.” His jaw was clenched tight. I placed a hand on his back and rubbed, at which he sighed and relaxed slightly, grimacing. “Sorry. I should be asking how you’re faring.” He slung an arm across my shoulders and pulled me close to him, close enough that I could all but see the new worry lines being etched into his face as we spoke.

“I’m alright. I mean… nervous. But I’m fine.” And it was true- I was nervous. There was a pit in my stomach everytime I looked over at the coffee table and watched the flashing colors alternate.

“If… if it’s positive, it’ll settle on a color. If it’s negative, it fades out to a dull white again,” he said, answering my unspoken question. He gripped my hand and brought the back of it to his lips for a soft, featherlight kiss before facing me head-on. “I want you to know this, MC.”

“What?”

“Whatever the result is, I will take care of you and protect you.” His voice was solemn and serious, but I could hear the faint waver in it. “I will not let anything befall you. I am with you no matter what happens.”

I nodded and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I know you are,” I whispered, then pulled back to smile at him. “Really, I do. I trust you. And besides, maybe it’ll be nothing anyway-”

There was a flash of blue light beside us.

Toa froze like a statue and I felt my body go numb and weak as I stared at it.

“Ohhhh… wow…” I squeaked out. “That’s uh… I’m… uh…”

Toa stood and began pacing the room with his hands in his hair. He was completely silent and mentally elsewhere, and I watched him weakly, unable to muster the energy to get up and try to speak. Gingerly, I reached over and plucked the test from the table, turning it over in my hands and watching the light shimmer and flicker. With magic, I doubted there was much room for error in a test of this sort, but a part of me was desperate to believe that it could have been faulty in some way. I jolted slightly as I realized that Toa was now in front of me on his knees.

“I am so sorry,” he choked out. His expression was a mixture of anguish, guilt, and what looked to me like fear. “I planned to figure something out, some way for our relationship to be accepted in the eyes of the king, long before anything like this should happen… I wanted to safeguard you but I’ve put you in danger.” He rested his head against my lap and I ran my fingers through his hair as I pulled in a shaky breath of my own.

I wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, but in all honesty his reaction was scaring me. Even in situations where we had very truly been in danger, he’d been levelheaded and calm. What laid ahead if this was how he was acting now, before anything had really changed? I rested my hand on his head and sighed. I opened my mouth to speak, but found I had no words. My throat grew tight and my vision hot and fuzzy. “Toa… what are we going to do?”

He looked up, then stood and pulled me to my feet, reeling me into his chest. He wrapped his arms securely around me and rubbed my back. “For once I don’t know,” he whispered.

—-----

The following day Toa organized his classes to be taught by Fenn, Lynt, and Roy instead and made a meeting with the headmaster. At the appointed time we arrived at his tower and he ushered us upstairs rather than to the usual meeting place in front of his desk. Phinney poured us cups of tea and then disappeared, leaving us alone with the headmaster.

“What can I do for you? I was surprised to receive such an urgent request from you, Master Qelsum,” the headmaster said, sitting across from us.

Toa sat rigidly and I placed a hand on his knee.

“There’s a situation we need your advice and guidance on,” Toa said. “Oh?”

I opened my mouth to speak but Toa beat me to it. “She is pregnant.”

For once the headmaster seemed genuinely dumbfounded. “O-oh…? Oh my. Well, that is unexpected news. Goodness.” He blinked at us, looking between Toa and I with a look of surprise bordering on confusion. “Of anyone to, ah… have put the cart before the horse, I would not have expected you.”

From the corner of my eye I could see Toa flush pink. “It was not intentional.”

The headmaster chuckled a bit. “I would figure not.”

Toa turned a bit redder and cleared his throat awkwardly. “You know the rules that have been laid out for a prince of Qelsum. I am not sure how to proceed in a way that safeguards MC. I am worried that… punishments for my indiscretions would be meted out on her. Everything requires the approval of the king.”

The headmaster leaned back with a stern expression. “That is the conundrum. Hm. As it is, your relationship with a supposed Avarian is unlikely to receive official approval for an engagement, even without a pregnancy.”

Toa nodded. “Yes, that is the issue-”

“So do it anyway.”

We blinked. Toa’s brow furrowed, startled.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

The headmaster smiled and offered a casual shrug. “So do it anyway. Since you are here I am making the assumption that you two are wanting to have this baby. And given our prior conversations, I know that you already intended on making a proposal as it is.”

Well, that was news to me. I snapped my neck to look over at Toa. “You’ve been talking to the headmaster about-?”

“Anyways,” the headmaster continued. “Just get engaged. I fear if you wait for approval or for the right circumstances, you will be waiting forever. And besides, as I said, the cart is now before the horse, so you may as well force their hand. As we know from the incident two years ago, Qelsan aristocracy will go to great lengths to avoid poor public perception.”

Toa nodded slowly. I hummed and thought back. Sure enough, following the incident where Toa had fought Guy and been forcibly expatriated, news had arrived to Qelsum that the repatriation came across as an admission of defeat and weakness. The potential poor press had motivated Toa’s officially approved return to the Academy- and thus, made our relationship possible. And “Qelsan crown prince has out-of-wedlock baby with random Avarian student” was, to put it lightly, an absolute PR nightmare for a kingdom that was desperate for by the book perfection at all times.

“Y-You’re saying we should force them to approve a marriage for image reasons?” I stammered.

The headmaster nodded. “Yes. Or, rather, that it’s an option.”

Toa leaned forward. “We would have to tell them that she’s pregnant. Would that not put her at risk of harm? With my sister's thugs, anything is possible.”

He hummed. “Yes, that is also a factor to consider. The other option to consider is hiding the pregnancy as long as possible before publicizing it. It would put them in the position to do damage control rather than damage prevention, as your child would be born not long after any wedding and the pregnancy would be known. At least then there would be a marriage, which would mitigate some of the reputational harm.”

“And lessen the risk of harm to MC, since people would know of the pregnancy it would be harder to hide any foul play.” Toa added thoughtfully.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, unsure of whether or not to add to the conversation. I raised my hand weakly and when the headmaster nodded, I took a deep breath. “Or, we could just tell them of my powers. I mean, if King Gilbert knew I wasn’t Avarian and knew I had ancient magic and the power to bend space-time, I think the marriage would probably be encouraged if anything.”

Toa frowned at me. “I don’t want to see your magic taken advantage of,” he murmured. He turned to face the headmaster, who had a cryptic look on his face. “My fear has been that were the king or others to find out, they would attempt to use her as… as a weapon of sorts.”

The headmaster nodded sagely. “That as well is a concern. However, over two years have gone by since MC arrived in Saligia. Back then, if she were merely touched her power could flow out uncontrolled. However, today she is not nearly so weak. And as much as I would prefer it… her power cannot remain hidden forever. One day your identity will be revealed, whether we are ready for it or not.”

I placed a hand over my lower belly. “I mean, what if the baby is born with my eye color? What will we do then? It’s not as though they’ll have red eyes. Dark brown eyes would make it fairly obvious that something is odd about me.”

Both men went temporarily silent.

“…Yes, that does factor in as well.” the headmaster said finally. He nodded solemnly. “It is worth pointing out that regardless of the timing, these questions would have come up. It was a matter of time rather than something to be avoided. To speak of the pregnancy itself… I do have reason to be concerned.”

Toa tensed up. “What? In regards to…?”

The headmaster’s expression was severe. “As you well know, ancient magic is passed down from father to firstborn son. Never before you,” at this he nodded to me, “has a woman possessed ancient magic in all of Saligia’s history. Not to speak of a child born to two people in possession of ancient magic. Such a child… could have power at a level completely unthinkable. I would figure that any child of yours could possess such powers, firstborn or not, male or not. Such a bloodline could shake the foundations of Saligia’s power balance entirely. Master Toa, you may have good reason to fear MC’s power falling into the wrong hands, but you also must consider the power that your child would possess as well. It will be no small thing.”

This announcement hit Toa hard- he sat back into his seat and held a hand over his mouth as though trying to muffle a groan or calm nausea. The anxiety coloring his features worried me- but I was trying to grapple with my own sense of dread and fear. Though I’d only had a brief amount of time to wrap my mind around the idea of having a baby, I’d grown a bit attached to the life growing inside that signified the start of a family between Toa and I. The thought of my child being used or otherwise endangered by their own abilities was frightening.

“…Will I be okay?” I asked softly. The two men looked at me and I shrank a bit. I wrung my hands in my lap and stared at the ground. “I mean, like you said: the baby will have ancient magic, but from both of us. Will that hurt me? I mean… nobody with ancient magic has ever been pregnant before, let alone with a baby like this one. Is it… even safe for me to have a pregnancy like this?”

Toa’s face twisted with horror and the headmaster fell deep into thought. Too much time passed for comfort and I began to fidget. A hand layered over mine and I looked up to find Toa’s face close to mine as he leaned in.

“If… you do not want to continue the pregnancy, I would support you,” he whispered. I studied his face and then glanced at my lap to find that the hand he’d put on top of mine was shaking. I put my other hand over his and squeezed.

“I… I want to see this through,” I felt heat rise up my neck and I looked away. “I want to have a family with you, Toa,” I murmured, almost embarrassed to say it out loud. “I want to meet our baby.”

Toa turned his palm up and intertwined our fingers together. “…So be it. I will be with you no matter what.” I couldn’t tell if my response made him happy or not, his tone was flat and guarded, as though he were speaking through clenched teeth.

“The lack of precedence makes everything more difficult,” the headmaster said. “We have no particular reason to believe that the pregnancy will harm your well-being, but we also have no reason to believe you will progress unscathed. For this reason, I would recommend remaining here on the Isle of Colde for as long as possible so I can monitor the changes in your magic.”

Toa blinked. “But that would mean…”

“Yes. It would mean delaying any sort of official state-sanctioned marriage until after the birth, as a royal wedding would permanently relocate you to Qelsum.”

I took a deep breath. Though I was the reason for a not-insignificant amount of the political and magical conflicts in Saligia over the last two years, I did not actually enjoy causing problems. In fact, I was rather conflict avoidant- and the concept of delaying our marriage and causing political turmoil for Toa with his notoriously difficult family made me uncomfortable. When I looked over at the headmaster again, he had a smile on his face.

“…What is it?” Toa asked, suspicious.

The headmaster stood before us and gave an exaggerated bow. “I offer you my services as an officiant, should you want to marry on a less official basis before the birth of your child.”

Toa and I looked at each other.

“I beg pardon? You would suggest we marry here, on the Isle of Colde? Has that ever been done?” Toa quirked an eyebrow up.

The headmaster smirked. “People marry on the Isle near everyday,” he teased. “But I do catch your meaning. No, a royal has never married on the Isle of Colde before. But when it comes to you,” at this he gestured to me, “…tradition is not applicable. Your presence violates all traditions, all norms- you make them insufficient. Your presence and your child’s existence require new traditions and norms to be set. Saligia is forever changed by you and your lineage. There is no returning to what was.”

I felt Toa’s body relax somewhat beside me for the first time since early the previous day. “You would officiate our marriage?” he asked softly, almost disbelieving. “And… if you did… I believe it would be difficult for my father to argue against it.”

The headmaster nodded, satisfied with Toa’s conclusion. “Precisely. After all, recall that your father was my pupil. I do have some idea of how he reasons.” With that, he called for Nix to come and collect our mostly untouched tea and cookies, and dismissed us with a casual wave. “Master Qelsum, when the timing is to your preference, let me know of your decision. I am happy to assist. You will need witnesses, but I think you will find that there are many people at this Academy who will stand behind you.”

Toa slung an arm across my shoulders and pulled me close. He gave a curt nod. “Yes. You will hear from me shortly.”

We descended the tower and walked quietly across campus, seemingly headed in no particular direction. His grip on my hand was firm. He seemed much more assured and confident than when we went to visit, though I could tell the possible risk to my health still haunted him. I reached out and pulled him to a stop and confused, he turned to look back at me.

I collapsed against him into a tight hug. Just as quickly he folded his arms around me and squeezed tight. My paramour was not one for PDA, but at this moment no one else existed in the world. He planted a kiss to the top of my head and tucked me close as possible under his chin.

“I love you. More than anything.”

I buried my face in his jacket. “I know you do. I love you more than anything as well.”

He pulled back and held my face in his hands, cradling me as though I was some precious fragile thing. “I don’t want to be misunderstood. When I said I would support you ending… it, I did not mean that I didn’t also want that future with you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet I had to strain to hear him. “I am just scared. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I smiled up at him and layered my hands over his. “I know. But honestly, despite everything, I have a good feeling about everything. I think things will work out for us.”

He smiled back down at me and was quiet for a moment before pulling me along with him. “I have somewhere I want to take you.”

At this, he took me around to a secluded area on the side of the Academy grounds, beneath the balconies off of the ballroom. As the day slunk into sunset the sunlight filtered orange through the trees and illuminated the quiet courtyard and gardens into brilliant jewel shades. I remembered it very well as the place those two years ago where I’d regained my memories and been assaulted with the desperate need to find Toa, only to find him looking for me as well.

Just like then, here Toa stood before me. But unlike then, he sunk onto one knee and brought the back of my hand to his lips. His eyes were the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen them and possessed a peace I’d not seen in them too many times before.

“I was not planning to ask under these circumstances,” he began, sucking in a deep breath. “But as the headmaster so kindly revealed, I was planning to ask this question in the very near future: regardless of any official approval, regardless of any Qelsan rules, regardless of any of my sister’s plots. I love you. Desperately. And I want to be yours forever, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?” At this, he fished a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a sapphire gem on a gold band.

My face felt hot and damp and I reached up to wipe away the tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Were you just carrying that around this whole time?” I laughed through my tears.

He pursed his lips into a slight pout. “…Yes. I didn’t want anyone to find it and ruin my plans,” he muttered. An image of Fenn, Knight, or myself stumbling upon it came to mind and I giggled. Below me, Toa gave me a nervous look and shifted awkwardly on his knee. “…Well?”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” I shouted. He slipped the ring onto my finger and I pulled him up into a kiss then flung myself into his arms. His arms wrapped around my waist tightly and he swung me lightly off my feet.

“I had to ask the headmaster for advice and for information about Earth marriage customs,” Toa mumbled sheepishly into my neck. “I wanted to do it the way it’s done in your country.”

“You did beautifully.” I laughed again and brought his face to mine for another kiss, relishing the pink of his cheeks. He seemed relieved at this and I giggled again, earning another pout.

“You keep laughing at me,” he muttered, and before I could get another word in, he picked me up into a bridal carry and began to walk off rather briskly in the direction of the dorms. I shrank a bit as we turned the corner and went past various students, who all turned their heads to look at us as we went.

I hid my face with a hand. “Everyone is looking.”

Toa chuckled against my ear. “For once, I find that I don’t mind it.”

—----

It was the dead of night. Above us the stars were overwhelmingly brilliant, or so it seemed to me. It could’ve been cloudy and the night would have seemed beautiful to me.

I stood in one of the hilltop chapel’s back rooms as Sherry and Violet fussed over the details of my makeup and hair. In the mirror I saw my reflection stare back at me: hair curled and pinned up perfectly and makeup done much better than I could’ve managed on my own. It’d been a quick, thrown-together little occasion, and intensely private, but despite this it’d come out lovely. The headmaster had been right when he’d said that we had more people behind us than we knew: I’d convinced Toa that we could rely on the help of the other princes as well as the valets and my dear friends, and when they’d been told of our plans they’d sprung into action: Rio and Tino organizing food, Sherry and Violet helping with my dress and with the floral arrangements, Fenn acting as the bartender, various princes doing the music, and others showing up just to lend pure moral support.

“I think you’re ready,” Violet declared, both of her hands on my shoulders behind me. “Well? How are you feeling?”

I looked down at my temporarily bare ring finger. “Good. Excited.” I smiled at the mirror to see both my dear friends with tears in their eyes. Sherry handed me my bouquet of blue and white flowers: a mix of what looked to me like delphinium, bellflowers, and ranunculus.

“You look perfect, MC,” Sherry whispered through her tears.

I smiled at her. Neither of my friends knew the precise reason why we were having the wedding so suddenly, and I found myself desperate to tell them, but Toa and I had agreed to keep the knowledge quiet until it couldn’t be hidden anymore. I resisted the urge to pat my stomach and nodded at the sound of music beginning out in the sanctuary. “Sounds like it’s time.”

The wedding was mostly influenced by Earth traditions, though I’d nixed the idea of having a bridal party or anyone to give me away, so I walked down the aisle of the church alone: or, alone as far as anyone could tell. Toa was in his usual dressed-up prince outfit he wore to official functions and was standing at the end of the aisle with the headmaster, who beamed at me. Toa’s own expression was solemn but as I got closer I could see that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

Toa took my hands in his as I passed my bouquet off and looked out across the pews: All of the princes were here, even Guy (who looked surprisingly unbothered by the whole affair) and Lance (who looked somewhat disgruntled about it and had been clearly drug there by Fenn). I smiled out at them and turned to face my fiance again.

The headmaster placed a hand on each of our shoulders. “Everyone, welcome!” He greeted our small collection of friends. “Thank you for attending so late in the evening. Tonight we are gathered here for the marriage of Prince Qelsum and MC.”

We proceeded with our vows and the exchanging of our rings, then when given the direction to do so, Toa brought me close by my waist, cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me boldly as applause erupted around us and I smiled against his lips. We parted but stayed close, his gaze tracing my face as though trying to memorize every bit of the moment we were in. For that matter, I was doing the same thing: trying to memorize the moment forever and forget that by tomorrow or at least the end of the week we’d likely be embroiled in the full scandal that this news would bring on us once the headmaster relayed it to King Gilbert. But for now, it was perfect.

The party itself was fun- I avoided drinking by discreetly passing my glasses off to the headmaster or Toa and drinking cup after cup of punch and water, and spent the night dancing as long as I possibly could. By the time festivities concluded and we retreated home to Toa’s room to crash in the early hours of the morning, my feet ached and Toa had consumed so many of my abandoned cocktails that he swayed while he walked. We stumbled into his room together giggling like children and collapsed onto the bed, enmeshed together like puzzle pieces.

Toa rolled over onto me and began to kiss every bit of skin he could access- featherlight, ticklish, teasing sorts of kisses. I laughed and I could feel his lips turn up against my neck. “You know,” he mumbled into my ear. “I think you’re right.”

“Wh-what about?” I breathed through a laugh.

He hummed a bit and grabbed me by my hips, rolling me over so that I was straddling him underneath me. One hand went for my belly and the other for my cheek. His eyes fell to my middle as he rubbed gently. “I think you’re right that everything will turn out well.”

“Really? What brought this on?”

He looked back up at me and an abnormally affectionate, goofy smile took hold of his features. “When I saw you walk toward me, I just knew it.” He ran his fingers down my cheek to trace down my side and then picked up one hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing it and then resting my palm against his cheek. “I think everything was meant to happen as it has. Fate. I never really have believed in that sort of thing but I do, for you. And for her.” At this, he poked a finger at my still flat stomach.

I giggled. “Her? A bit early to know anything about that.”

He shrugged. “I just have a sense about it.” With that, he yanked me down toward him and rolled us underneath the covers, wedding clothes and all still on and held me so close I could hardly breathe. He set his chin on the top of my head and nuzzled in, and I snuggled against his chest, relishing the strangely emotionally available Toa I had that night.

I snuck a glance at the ring on my finger, now accompanied by a matching band. Wedding rings were one of the few traditions in Saligia that matched up with Earth, so when I went out tomorrow it would be clear to everyone what had occurred, despite keeping the wedding itself quiet. The blue gem glinted in the moonlight coming in through the far window. It was an oddly perfect match for his eyes- which now were closed as he’d fallen deeply asleep. I wondered to myself if we really would have a daughter, and if she’d share his eyes. I hoped so.

—-----

As predicted, the ensuing few weeks were a rather intense whirlwind- of fanfare and jealousy from the “Toa-sters” and stern letters from the king as well as other members of the royal family and cabinet. As predicted, my status as a supposed Avarian brought on a lot of scrutiny and there were apparently discussions of forcible repatriation, but also as predicted the fact that the headmaster had officiated and that members of the other nations’ royal families were in attendance to our nuptials gave us an amount of legitimacy that couldn’t be overcome. Our marriage was, very begrudgingly, accepted. From there, Toa successfully negotiated for us to remain on the Isle of Colde rather than being absorbed immediately into the royal duties typical of a couple: however, the inevitable reveal of the pregnancy would likely reinvigorate those negotiations.

In the following months I took to wearing looser clothing for as long as I could as my midsection began to expand from flat to tiny curve to outright bump. I relished this time as I could still attend classes most days and any excitement I felt remained private between Toa and I. However, by the time I reached four months of pregnancy, it was no longer discreet and I took to hiding in Toa’s room for fear of emerging and having it spotted, no matter how much I was reassured that it wasn’t that visible yet. When I moved, I swore that the fabric gathered around the underside of the swell in a way that made me look… well, pregnant.

“You really won’t attend classes today?” Knight asked, pushing in a tray of teas and assorted breakfast items. I laid in bed still, despite it being late morning, and rolled over to smile at him.

I reached over and snagged a small donut from the tray as I sat up. “Nope. Too pregnant now. Officially.”

Toa crossed over from the other side of the room where he’d been getting ready to leave and teach his first class of the morning. He sat on the end of the bed and reached a hand to place on the bump.

“I’m in agreement,” Toa said. “I wasn’t sure about it when you said so last night, but it is becoming too obvious now. Besides,” at this, he gave me a nervous look, “…we were going to have to break the news at some point.”

I nodded and popped the donut into my mouth. “Mmhm. Are we just going to, like… announce it in a statement or something? Have a party about it?” I sat up a bit and pulled my shirt tight. “I could just walk around in tight clothes and let people figure it out.”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve already discussed it with the headmaster. We will host a small announcement party among the princes and then release a statement. Unfortunately for safety reasons you will need to start staying in here more often. We’re still a bit unsure of what the reaction will be from the king or Idina.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Even with the headmaster’s blessing, huh?”

Toa sighed. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.” He gave me a fond look and looked down at my belly as he rubbed it gently. “…That said, I will be sad to have our secret exposed. It’s been nice to… have it just be for ourselves.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead, at which point Knight cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured for the door.

“Your class starts shortly, Toa. I can go ahead early and set up before you arrive.”

“Thank you.” Toa stood from the bed and watched as Knight swiftly made his exit from the room. He chuckled a bit and brushed his hand down my face affectionately, though I could still detect the hint of nervousness. Over and over again in the last few months he’d told me that the worrying and planning was his responsibility and not mine, and I could see the result of it in the gathering dark circles under his eyes. Of course, I worried too, but there were certain aspects of his duties I couldn’t access even if I could convince him to share the burden.

Before he could leave, I caught him by the edge of his cloak and slid out from the bed, rising to the tips of my toes to kiss him. He immediately pulled me in by the waist and kissed me back soundly. When we parted, his blue eyes were foggy with affection and desire, which he quickly blinked away as he stepped back.

“Have a good class,” I murmured.

He nodded and stepped in again for a final kiss on the cheek. “I will.”

—--

With the headmaster’s advice, we held a small get-together with all the princes the following evening. Toa dressed in his usual, I dressed in a looser blue dress with a shimmery white shawl that hung loose across my shoulders and provided a bit of a disguise to my belly. I stood in front of the mirror and adjusted it around my shoulders so that it hung in layers across the front of my body, then turned at different angles to ensure that I’d covered well.

“What do you think?” I asked as Toa came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my middle.

“You look lovely,” he responded, kissing my cheek and making me giggle and squirm.

“Are you ready to get this over with?” I turned to face him slightly and cringed as my voice rose nervously.

“…Yes,” he breathed out. The tension in his jaw and shoulders was palpable so I reached out to cup his face in my palm. He smiled and leaned against it, then kissed my hand and captured it in his. “The sooner the news is out, the sooner we can make plans and deal with the political fallout.”

I nodded. “Only five months now,” I whispered, mostly to myself. By then, we would have passed through the winter months and emerged into springtime. It’d been lucky timing for the beginning of my pregnancy, as the burgeoning coldness of fall had given me ample excuse to dress more conservatively. Thinking of the coming spring sent a thrill of both anticipation and anxiety through me- seemingly through both of us, actually, as Toa squeezed my hand a bit more firmly.

“In five months, I will have arrangements in place. I promise. There will be no need for any worry.” Toa said firmly. There was a grave look on his face and an intense light in his eyes. “I promise I will keep both of you safe.”

“I believe you,” I whispered back.

He looped my elbow through his and escorted me out to the S rank common room, which was, at my request, set up for a very simple party, with sparse decorations and minimal refreshments rather than the overblown and extravagant amount usually done for a party among the princes. We entered the room to find all of the other princes, including Rio (and by some miracle Lance as well), already present, in addition to Sherry and the valets. I’d come to consider the valets and Sherry good friends in my time at the Academy and convinced Toa to expand the announcement party’s invite list to accommodate them. It felt a bit odd and distant to announce something so personal to friends through some official royal decree. I’d managed to come to terms with the fact that many things about the pregnancy would be different than I’d imagined it being when I was back on earth, but that was one thing I couldn’t accept.

“MC! You look positively lovely!” Sherry exclaimed. She and Violet both stole me away from Toa’s side nearly instantly to marvel over my outfit and immediately I felt some of the tension melt from my body. This interaction at least felt normal.

“…Thank you,” I laughed. I waved the shimmery shawl around and for a moment let them ‘ooooh’ and ‘ahhhh’ over the way the sparkles caught the candlelight.

“What in Saligia is this party about, anyway?” Violet asked, tossing an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re repatriating to Qelsum so soon!” She stuck out a lower lip into a pout and crushed me against her chest.

“N-no, that’s not it…” I mumbled against her bosom. “It’s something else.”

Sherry sighed and gently extricated me from Violet’s grasp. “Well, is it good news? Truly, the two of us have been most worried since we received the invite. The tone was rather… serious.”

I rolled my eyes a bit. “Yes, well, that would be because Toa wrote the invites instead of letting me do it,” I mumbled. Sure, the news was meaningful, but I’d caught a look at the invites before Knight set out to deliver them and the language had made the event sound more like a sudden mandatory exam rather than an announcement party for something that was supposed to be a happy occasion. In fact, the rest of the room seemed tense and awkward, as though holding in an anxious breath.

Roy stood from his nearby seat and greeted us with a prim bow. “Master Toa, Miss Katie,” he said. His usual pristine smile was painted on his face. “I am glad to see you are well. It is as Sherry has said- we were somewhat concerned at the sudden directive to meet here. I am happy to overhear that it is perhaps… less dire than assumed?” “Yes. It should be a short affair. We are just waiting for the headmaster to arrive.” Toa responded. He wrung his hands- the one way he fidgeted when he couldn’t pace through his nerves.

Roy blinked. “The headmaster will be in attendance for this? He rarely comes to the events we hold here. Are you certain that nothing is amiss?”

Toa nodded and gestured me to the sofa to sit beside Lynt, who was nodding off on Guy’s shoulder. “Everything is fine,” he replied in a completely unconvincing tone that made Lynt’s eyes open just a tad and thin blond brows furrow in concern. I sat down quickly and wrapped my shawl protectively around my waist.

“I would hate for anything to be wrong,” Lynt mumbled through a yawn. He frowned in my direction. “Is… there trouble with the king, Toa?”

Toa’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “…No. Not right now.” He stood beside the arm of the sofa and laid one protective hand on my shoulder, glancing toward the door as he spoke, as though willing the headmaster to arrive.

I looked up from where I’d let my gaze fall into my lap to spot Fenn sitting across from me, an unnervingly knowing smirk on his face. Giving him a mild glare, I shook my head at him just slightly, to which he shrugged and settled back against his seat, passing his cane between his hands absentmindedly.

“I have the sense that it may be happy news,” Fenn purred.

Lynt, seemingly content with this, smiled serenely and settled back against Guy, who sighed in annoyance. “Oh, good.”

Guy slowly attempted to shuffle out from under Lynt’s grasp at the exact moment that the double doors opened and the headmaster strode in amidst the flurry of his white cloak floating around him like a cloud. All our attention snapped to him and he gave us all a nod.

“Well, hello to everyone. It would seem we are all here, then,” he said, striding across the room to take the final remaining single seat and then peer from under his cloak hood across the room at Toa, the only one among us who was still standing. “Well then, Prince Toa. Go on.”

At this, Toa pulled me to my feet beside him and held me close. He sucked in a nervous breath and scanned the room for a moment. The faces before us were a mix of confused, expectant, worried, and irritated, and in that drawn out split second before Toa spoke, I tried to memorize the moment. There would forever be a before the world knew, and an after.

“MC is pregnant.”

Everyone’s eyes went wide. I shuffled my shawl off my shoulders and tugged the fabric of my dress tighter to show the bump, which only made our party guests gasp- a mixture of shock and surprise.

Fenn laughed. “Goodness, you certainly move quickly.”

Lynt smiled serenely again. “You were right, Fenn. That is good news. Lovely,” he murmured.

“A-Already?” Roy stammered. “You’ve only just…”

Toa frowned at them slightly. “Yes. Earlier than intended,” he said awkwardly. When I looked up, I could detect the faintest hint of red tinging his ears. “That said- it is good news. We wanted to express it to you all here in advance of making an official statement.”

Roy leaned forward, his expression tense. “Given the… circumstances, will you two be returning to Qelsum, then?”

Before Toa could respond, the headmaster piped up. “We are attempting to do what we must to prevent that. There are certain reasons why it would be more advantageous for MC to remain on the Isle of Colde. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

The S rank princes nodded at this, mulling it over. Meanwhile, Sherry and Rio looked befuddled. My status as an earth resident had not been related to anyone outside of those who found me the night I arrived and a few of their valets. I’d campaigned for the right to tell them, but hadn’t succeeded. They’d have to know soon enough, but for now we opted to talk around the issue.

Guy’s eyes were narrowed and seemingly glaring a hole directly into my midsection. “This child of yours. It could disrupt everything,” he said coldly. He stared up at Toa. “Have you any plan for what to do?”

Toa tugged me closer still and returned Guy’s glare. “Yes.”

The tension in the room grew thick and uncomfortable. “It was going to happen at one point or another, frankly,” I added weakly. “It’s not as though this could be avoided forever, y’know?” I patted my stomach and smiled at everyone in the room. The mixture of confusion and worry among my friends made my stomach turn slightly, so I turned away and took a deep breath.

Noticing my anxiety, Toa rubbed my shoulder and gestured for me to sit back down on the couch. I did, and Toa continued to speak to the group. “She is right. It was going to happen at one point or another. We are going to attempt to stay on the Isle of Colde for as long as possible in order that the headmaster may monitor the situation. As you know, this complicates an already complicated situation, what with MC being… Avarian. You are aware of my sister’s proclivity for using force, so remaining here is safest.”

The others nodded in agreement. It was true, they all knew how Idina had reacted to me in the previous times we’d interacted. She’d broken Toa’s watch to test me and tried to kill me in Qelsum itself on more than one occasion. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she’d try to off me before I could give birth, whether she knew I was pregnant already or not. While Qelsum was incredibly safe for pregnant people generally, with its highly advanced medical system, it wasn’t safe for me.

The room fell awkwardly silent until Roy spoke. “Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that we will do our utmost to look out for MC’s wellbeing in this time.”

“Agreed,” Fenn chimed in.

“Of course,” said Lynt, blinking out of his sleepy haze.

“…Jasper will keep an eye on those coming in and leaving the Isle for any signs of foul play,” Guy volunteered reluctantly. “…She is, after all, a citizen of Avari.”

Toa bristled slightly at that remark but brushed it off and bowed in thanks to the princes. “Thank you all for your understanding. Now,” he gestured to the spread of hors d'oeuvres behind us. “…Let’s have this party we promised.”

Throughout the remainder of the afternoon the mood in the common room lightened and I spent the rest of it eating copious amounts of sugar and fielding questions from the other attendees, especially Sherry and Violet, who were an understandable mixture of curious, terrified, and excited for me. I told them when I’d found out (a revelation that definitely gave away that I’d been knocked up before the wedding, something they giggled at but didn’t tease me too much for) and how I was feeling about it all. The moment felt almost normal, something I was grateful for. The past few months had felt anything but normal.

Things came to their natural end and Toa and I retired back to his room, though he ushered me to bed and sat down immediately at his desk to write out the language of the official announcement that would be sent to Qelsum. Curled under the covers, I watched him through the blue haze of the bed canopy write one line, then crumple the paper, write a few new lines, shake his head, and start over again. As I dazed off, he finally seemed to find the right verbiage as he rolled the paper up, slotted it into a case, and then summoned a messenger bird to take it from him at the far window. He slunk into bed beside me with a heavy sigh and I rolled into his arms, halfway asleep already.

He ran his hands through my hair and kissed the crown of my head. “We’ve done it.”

“Mmmmhmm.”

“All that’s left now is to wait,” he murmured against my hair. And he was right: that was all that was left to do now.

—-----

The following two months were spent almost entirely in Toa’s bedroom, cooped up inside where I could be safe and much less likely to run into anyone who could do me any harm. His worry for my safety was well-founded, but it meant that the only times I stepped out were when I had him by my side- which was much less than either of us liked as he was frequently visiting with the headmaster or negotiating some aspect of our stay on Colde. It had begun to feel more and more necessary to break the news to King Gilbert that I was in fact, an oddity from planet Earth, but Toa was extremely resistant to this. He would return late at night and spend hours at his desk before retiring beside me in bed. Whatever time we did have together was spent going over my health or discussing plans for the birth. The concept that at the end of it, we’d have an actual baby was a bit distant.

On a particularly stormy Friday, classes were canceled due to the inclement weather and when Toa returned early to our room I had decided to throw every once of my pregnant weight behind convincing him to take me out, even with the rain. I’d begun to go stir-crazy to the point of driving my cat and Knight somewhat insane.

The moment the door swung open, I stood from the couch immediately and intercepted him at the doorway. He jumped a bit but set his things down and opened his arms as I nestled in against him.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. I just miss you. I heard classes were canceled for the day,” I murmured, looking up at him and trying my best to put on a pair of doe-eyes.

He sighed. “Yes. It’s a heavy enough downpour that some of the classrooms have leaked. It will take some time to repair, so instead we are having an early weekend.” He studied my expression for a moment before laughing a bit under his breath. “You look like you want something.”

“I do.”

“Oh?”

“I want to go somewhere with you. Anywhere, just out of this room. Preferably out of the Academy for a little while. Please?”

His brows furrowed skeptically. “We need to minimize risk as much as possible…”

“I’m going nuts just locked up in here. Plus everyone knows now anyway, there’s nothing to hide- not that I could, anyway,” I said, stepping back and gesturing to my bump, which had grown significantly. I stared up at him pleadingly. “Please? Some fresh air and movement would be good for me anyways. It says that’s good for pregnancy in all those books, y’know.”

Toa pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed. “…You are right, it does say that,” he mumbled. Toa, the ever-studious one he was, had been binging any pregnancy, baby, and parenting books he could get his hands on, which meant that whenever he wasn’t in our room I could steal from his extensive collection and flip through them myself. Some of the advice was generic, other advice was specific to thaumaturge pregnancies and children (even infants could wield some degree of magic as it turned out, which made baby-proofing a house even more important). I wondered how he was retaining any of it. That said, I’d retained enough myself to know that few doctors would be pleased at my lack of activity.

I grabbed both Toa’s hands in mine. “So? Can we at least go for a walk? Please?” I pouted slightly and watched as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Yes, yes, we can go. For a little while. Dress warmly and wear sturdy shoes. And promise to stay close to me,” he chided me as I silently cheered in delight and went to retrieve my coat. “Knight, if you will notify the headmaster that we are stepping out, that would be appreciated.”

“Will do!” Knight replied and rushed out the door behind us.

I thudded down onto the couch, sucked in a breath, and lunged over the bump to tug on a pair of boots- at which Toa knelt before me and stole the boot out of my hands, giving me a gently reprimanding look, and slid it onto my foot himself, gingerly lacing it up as though he was handling glass.

“You ought to ask for help as often as you can,” Toa said as he laced up the second boot. He peered up at me as he set my foot down on the ground again. “Especially as you progress. I mean to be there for you in every sense possible.” He stood up and proffered his elbow, which I grasped onto and allowed myself to be pulled up. With magic he summoned my coat from within the closet and slipped it over my shoulders. He tugged the hood over my head with a satisfied nod.

“I don’t need you to do everything for me,” I protested faintly.

He laughed derisively in response and placed a hand on my belly, his expression growing serious. “I feel powerless sometimes. At least allow me to do this. For both you and her.”

I blinked up at him from underneath my hood. “You’re anything but! You’ve been doing so much, Toa, and…” I cut off, then laughed. “And you’re so insistent that it’s a girl.”

He led me along toward the door. “I don’t know why but… I have a strong feeling about it.”

We made our way strolling through the Academy grounds and toward town, winding around large puddles and over the looser cobblestones with surgical precision. Toa’s eyes remained trained on the ground in front of us scanning for any potential pitfalls.

“Staying dry? Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m perfect,” I laughed. “Y’know, I’m not that fragile. You don’t have to worry so much.”

Toa shook his head. “You say that, but I’ve seen how you are when your center of balance is normal. No precaution is worth overlooking.” Of course, at that moment I stepped wrong and nearly slipped forward, at which Toa yanked me upward against him. “…Like that.” His breath was hot against my neck and I shuddered as a blush flooded across my face. With another sigh, Toa bent down and hoisted me up bridal style and began walking in confident stridges.

“I don’t need to be carried because I slipped once!” I protested.

For a moment, Toa remained silent, simply tightening his grip under my knees and around my back. I stared at his profile, watching as flickers of emotion passed through his eyes. He leaned to place a kiss on my brow. “…Let me do this. It… soothes my own anxiety.” His voice was weak as he responded.

I relented and curled into him. “…Alright.”

We made our way through the mostly empty streets without much issue. Our cloaks provided a degree of disguise, so even with the spectacle of being carried around no one especially noticed us. We took side streets I was unfamiliar with until we broke through the last alleyway and into a green open space full of flowers and well-kept gravel pathways.

“I’ve never been here before,” I said. Toa slowly lowered me down to my feet, keeping an arm looped around my waist.

“It’s a park near the church. This should be a safe location for us to walk.”

I was inclined to agree- it did look safe and easy to navigate. The pathways were even and flat, with little to throw me off balance. Beyond this, I could feel the rain begin to lessen and as I looked up toward the clouds, a couple rays burst through the gray and dappled the grass in beams of light that illuminated it in brilliant shades of green. I smiled up at Toa and gave him a squeeze. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

His eyes softened. “Anything for you.”

We walked the park loop, which was not especially long but as I’d begun to waddle while walking it took us a good deal longer than I’d anticipated. It turned out that the park also served partially as a playground for the town school, and as the end-of-day bell rung and children poured out from the schoolhouse, we were suddenly in the midst of a stampede of children meeting their parents to return home, or joining their friends for a game of tag. Worried by the commotion, Toa bade me to sit on a nearby bench until the area cleared a bit and joined me there. As we watched the children, I began to giggle to myself.

Toa raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Do you remember when you were serving as a doctor on the Isle here for that volunteer thing the headmaster made you all do? And I was assisting you? And there was that little boy who wouldn’t tell you what was wrong?”

He smiled wryly. “…Yes. Yes, I remember you teaching me the importance of proper bedside manner with children,” he chuckled. “Without your help, I’m not sure I would have been able to help him at all.”

We laughed, reminiscing on it. That had occurred in the earlier days of our relationship. Now, Toa had softened quite a bit since then: his rough, colder edges had been smoothed and the warmth that hid behind his frozen demeanor sometimes seeped through, if only usually for me. Two years ago, imagining him as a father would have been more difficult.

At that moment, another couple passed by us, the father holding what looked to be a brand new baby wrapped up in a sling and tucked tight against his chest. The mother leaned against his arm as they walked, the two of them peering down at their baby’s sleeping face, remarking on the delicate features: the tiny fingernails, the tufts of soft brown hair, the faint eyelashes dusting the rounded cheeks. It was only a brief moment and they were gone, but beside me Toa had gone silent and pensive, his eyes glazed over as though faraway in thought.

“Toa?”

He started. “…Yes?” He looked over and then looked away just as quickly to let his gaze fall into his lap. “…That… that will be us soon,” he murmured so softly that I could barely hear his voice over the chorus of children’s laughter and the wind rustling the trees. He met my gaze again after a few moments of silence, then brought my mouth to his with a force and firmness I hadn’t expected, eliciting a gasp of surprise.

When he pulled back, I noted the look of calm self assurance and peace that had washed over him. “It doesn’t matter what happens or what my father thinks. If it comes to it, I will choose you and our family, always.” He laid a hand on my belly and allowed a smile to push up against the corner of his lips. “…Our baby. Always.”

I layered my hand over his and blinked back tears. “I know you will.”

—----

The final three months of my pregnancy both whipped by and dripped like molasses: I’d been miraculously symptom-free for much of it, with an easy first and second trimester, but the final stretch brought on aches, pains, and general discomfort that Toa tended to with a swiftness and premonition that made me wonder if he could read minds. Rubbing my swollen feet, helping me up off chairs and out of bed, keeping me fed and watered at all times- he was attentive to a fault.

The business with the king and negotiating had come to a culmination as I turned the corner into the eighth month: I would, in fact, do the historically unprecedented thing and birth the baby on the Isle of Colde, but within the week we would board the ship to Qelsum with our child in tow. The headmaster had been involved as well, and accordinging to Toa the negotiations had required my identity to be slightly hinted at- something Toa was not pleased about. King Gilbert didn’t know I was from Earth, but he did know that there was something abnormal about my magic. What would come of that, we had no idea. Toa was unsettled by his father on a good day, let alone when we were arguing for our future. “Even in letters, he’s difficult to read,” he’d told me. “He’s always thinking ten steps ahead. I can’t predict what he’s going to do.”

So that was that. There was nothing left to do but wait for things to happen. I rarely left Toa’s room except for very late at night or very early in the morning, when few other students would be out and I could wander around without running into anyone. During the daytime, Sherry, Rio, Violet, and some of the others would visit. I received a sizable amount of gifts, some of which were practical, some of which were food, and some of which were Saligian baby items I had no context for and that Toa had to explain to me. Special toys meant to teach early magic channeling, magically baby-proofed bassinets and child locks were among a few of the gifts we received.

Toa became intensely protective as we neared the end. He’d always been a bit irritable with Fenn’s touchiness, but when Fenn had tried to lay an uninvited hand on my midsection Toa had nearly broken it on impulse. Fenn wasn’t terribly swayed by this, however, and laughed it off. Roy kept a respectful distance, asking passing questions about my wellbeing, with Toa lurking near me like some kind of foreboding stormcloud. Guy did not come near me whatsoever, which was a wise choice, but Jasper would sometimes come by and inquire, though if Toa were the one to answer the door he could hardly get a word in before having the door shut in his face. When Lynt or Tino visited, Toa did not react whatsoever since the two Akedians were obviously harmless, but kept a careful eye. The lack of ability to do anything to improve our situation at this juncture was fraying his nerves, so I looked past it. I’d avoided most of the pregnancy mood swings myself and joked that I’d just passed them onto my husband instead.

Every little cramp or pain was cause for alarm, for both Toa and Knight. Toa of course had spent so much time reading on pregnancy and birth that he was well aware that not everything was a sign of impending labor, but it didn’t prevent him from stopping everything he was doing to check whenever I’d grunt a bit too much or say “ow” about anything. Knight would gasp and stand, offering to find the headmaster, which I’d always stop him from doing. That was another part of it: the headmaster would be present for the birth. Which was weird, but any idea of a normal birth with exactly who I’d want there had changed when my mother died back on Earth, and whatever vague image I’d had after then had shattered entirely upon coming to Saligia. I was strangely okay with it. So much of everything was outside of my control: I just surrendered to it.

The season changed from winter to spring. I’d gotten pregnant sometime around Toa’s birthday (a fact that I’d turned into a bit of a joke- one that I thought was very funny but Toa did not find nearly as amusing), so now that was about April, the baby could come anytime. But our child seemed… unwilling to budge. So we scoured the baby books for methods of inducing labor. Teas, tinctures, exercises, certain kinds of foods, and even multiple romps in the sheets did little to get things going. Time slowed to what felt like a standstill in the final few days.

Until it happened.

It would figure that a dramatic entrance would be our daughter’s choice, in retrospect. During one of the very rare moments I was waddling myself to the infirmary rather than having the midwife meet me in our room, I felt a sudden gush of water and froze in my tracks. Toa, by my side, was momentarily puzzled, but upon seeing the puddle at my feet sprung into action, ushering me back into our room and ordering Knight to fetch the headmaster. I tried to protest this, but he’d already zipped out of the room like his feet were on fire.

I’d prepared myself mentally to slog through many, many hours of labor, but perhaps due to my magic, the baby’s magic, or just some kind of genetic or random happenstance, it passed rapidly: much more rapidly than anyone had expected. It felt as though one moment I was in the hallway with wet skirts and another moment I was on my hands and knees, my entire body alive with pain, with Toa behind me scrambling to catch her as the midwives and nurses held me. Of course, it had been longer than that- a few hours, actually- but it felt as though time had gone from stretched and slow to rapid and compressed. The physical shock of it all had me dazed and faint, but when I turned over I saw him there: his expression frozen in awe, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and the tiniest little screaming thing in his arms.

“I was right,” he breathed. “It’s a girl.”

I laughed.

Luckily, the headmaster detected no especially concerning magical abnormalities about either of us: I had apparently called on my own magic to some extent, but not enough for any real concern. I could feel it thrumming through my veins as I held her, as though we were connected by my magic still, somehow. Everytime I touched her I felt a slight but electrifying crackle pass between us- but kept that detail to myself like a secret. Both Toa and I were utterly enamored and memorized every detail we could about her. She took after him in appearance almost entirely, something that came as a massive relief to me. Her hair was blue but most importantly, her eyes were blue: the same brilliant cobalt and cerulean color as Toa’s.

Once the dust had more or less settled- I was clean and dressed, baby was clean and swaddled, bed was remade, midwives and the headmaster had left- Toa and I settled on the bed together, completely silent. Knight even had vacated the room after seeing her briefly to quietly announce to the other S rank princes that she’d been born. So everything was suddenly still. I was almost afraid to breathe for fear of disturbing the strange sense of peace that enveloped us. I felt as though I was floating, existing outside of time and space in the moment.

Toa laid one hand over her back as she laid across my chest. Most of her body fit under the length of his palm. It was rare to see him teary, but his eyes had been wet since the headmaster had declared nothing abnormal in our magic and the medical staff had given us a clean bill of health. It was as though he too had been holding his breath until then. Now, he was opening up again. I could sense a bone-deep relief rolling off him in waves. Off of both of us, truly. He moved in closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, tucking us in toward him, and closed his eyes.

I tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t. There were things to deal with, to think, to mull over, to prepare for, but nothing felt meaningful besides drinking in the moment. I hadn’t had a family since Earth, and even back then, I’d been alone for years since my parents had died. I’d had no nearby extended family either. I was a little island, adrift and staying afloat alone by my own grit and tenacity. It was lonely. But since I’d come to Saligia, I hadn’t been anymore- I’d found a family in the form of Toa, Knight, the other princes, Sherry, and Violet. And now, a child. Another person in the world who shared a piece of me.

“You’re crying.”

Toa’s hand was at my cheek now, wiping away tears that cascaded down my cheeks in a torrent I couldn’t dam. I hadn’t realized that I’d been crying. When I looked over at him, I saw my own expression mirrored. “You’re crying too,” I replied through a choked sob.

He chuckled a bit at himself and wiped his own cheek. “Yes,” he laughed. “I am. I was just thinking about everything.”

“…Me too.” I whispered.

We both stared down at her as she stirred in my arms a bit. I realized then, that we’d not really discussed names. We’d discussed everything else, but not that. I pursed my lips, rifling through the names I knew off the top of my head. Saligian names had some overlap with Earth names, but not entirely. I wanted the name to have meaning- some connection to the strange circumstances of her birth.

“Is Isla a name in Saligia?”

“Isla? Yes… it is.” Toa blinked at me.

“I think it would work for her. Born on an island. Isla.” I suggested.

His expression grew contemplative, before he nodded firmly in agreement. “Yes. I like that. …Isla…” he trailed off while looking at her, as though mentally fitting the name onto her tiny face.

And so: we had a baby, a daughter named Isla.

—----

Our goodbye from the Isle of Colde was deeply bittersweet. It was an especially cold day but made colder by the fact we were all standing at the docks and the wind whipped flecks of seawater against our clothes. Isla was bundled tightly against my chest and I tucked the lapels of my coat around her further. A crowd had gathered around us to see us off but our friends were at the front. I hugged Sherry, Violet, and Rio tearfully goodbye. Truthfully, neither Toa nor I had any clue what awaited us in Qelsum, but knew there was no putting it off. The thought of willingly bringing my baby there filled me with dread. Idina’s attempt to kill me weighed heavy in my mind. I held Isla closer to me and kissed the top of her downy little head. It felt safer, better, to have her as close as physically possible, as though our hearts and energies were connected intrinsically.

Toa helped me up the gangplank and we stood, waving as the boat pulled away until the Isle of Colde disappeared entirely from view and all that was around us was the expanse of flat blue ocean. A chapter had closed forever.

I let out a shaky breath and Toa pulled me gingerly into an embrace, careful not to squish Isla between us. He rested his chin on top of my head and we stared out at the water together. “I’ve said it before,” he whispered. His voice felt like it blended into the ocean mist. “…and I will say it again. I love you,” he declared. “And I love Isla. No matter what, I will keep you safe. And I will keep you as free as I can.”

“I believe you,” I replied. And I did believe him. I reached up and cupped his jaw in my palm. “I love you too. Whatever may come. For better or for worse, just as we both said, remember?”

He layered his hand over mine and hummed in the affirmative. “…Yes.”

We retired for the evening in the quarters of the ship that night knowing that when we awoke in Qelsum that morning, our lives would be different forever. But we drifted easily into sleep despite it: we all had each other and that was what mattered.

#court of darkness #toa qelsum #shoutout to headmaster lou for being a real helpful dude in this one #also writing a birth scene is weird as fuck i gotta be honest #lmaoooo #left this one a bit of a cliffhanger bc straight up i have no clue what would happen next #i'm scared of his family lol

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your-average-genshin-enjoyer · 2 years

Text

Jealous Shinichi x f!reader

a/n: So this was my first request from anon, but I was a fool and still new to tumblr, so when I see my answer post was public I panicked and deleted the post without realizing I deleted their request QWQ I'M SO SORRY ANON TT if you're seeing this, I hope this fic is not much of a disaster qwq

warnings: a bit of cursing, may have grammar mistakes, maybe sorta OOC(out of character)???

plot: You've seem to pay attention to Kaito a lot more lately, and it seemed to have start a spark of jealousy in Shinichi

"Hey Shinichi Guess what? Kaito kun just showed me this cool magic trick where he pulled out a sweater from Aoko chan's bare hand today!" You gleamed in excitement recounting the event with passion.

"Wow I see, that seems like a very cool magic trick." Shinichi said in a sarcastic tone and randomly nodding his head.

"Ehh, are you not interested Kaito kun's magic tricks?" You asked sort of surprised since you thought he might like magic tricks.

"It's not that I don't like it, I just didn't really see the interesting part from a trick that fool someone. I'm more interested to tell you how the trick actually works to be honest" Shinichi commented bluntly.

"Hey! It was entertaining to me atleast, If you dare reveal the secret to the trick again I'm gonna hit you Shinichi." You pouted while folding your arms.

"*Sigh* Are you less interested on the secret trick I found from my deduction now?" Shinichi asked with a little disappointed tone.

"N-No it's not like that! it's just, *sigh* It sometimes ruins the fun of magic tricks if you reveal the trick to do it you know." I explained to him

"Ok ok you told me this a few times already, I get it." Shinichi said while patting your head.

"I have a case that I haven't cracked today, I'm gonna go out to investigate it more." Shinichi said while putting on his shoes.

"Already? You've seemed to always work on case after case nowadays, are you not gonna take a rest or something?" You asked, feeling concerned that he seems to submerged himself in cases for nonstop.

"I'm fine Y/n, I better go before the trail goes cold now, later Y/n." Shinichi said while walking away and closing the door.

"Shin- *sigh* he's gone again before I even say my goodbye. Is he mad at me or something???" You mumbled to yourself while feeling a tinge of guilt come after you.

"Should I do something as an apology to him and to make it up for him???" You wonder while standing still in thought.

"Oh wait, if I remember correctly, isn't Lemon pie and some ice coffee his favorite food? I could go make one and buy one from the bakery for extra to make it up for him!"

You thought in excitement while hitting the air with your fist in excitement as you start your 'Apologizing to Shinichi' operation.

. . .

-_-Shinichi's POV-_-

"So you we're saying, you have this weird feeling when you hear Y/n talks about Kaito, and you start to feel upset that she seem to pay attention more to Kaito???" Hattori said reassembling all the things I just ask him.

"Yeah it's like that for a dew days now, I felt like my stomach is sort of churning when she seem to care more to Kaito. I tried to submerge myself in more cases to distract myself, but it never seemed to go away, *sigh* what is this???" I mumbled in frustration while ruffling my hair.

"Kudo, are you seriously confused and don't know what you're feeling right now?" Hattori said in a serious tone.

"Yes Hattori, yes. What am I doing saying stuff about myself if not for that reason?" I said to Hattori while mentally facepalming at his question.

silent suddenly envelopes both of us until Hattori suddenly breaks it.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHHH, oh my god Kudo, I never knew you could be like this AHAHAHAHA-" Hattori laughed out loud while wiping his tears from laughing too hard.

"W-What are you laughing for?! Did I just say something stupid or did I do something stupid?" I asked sort of confused and a bit irritated on why he kept laughing on me. Hattori starts to put himself together and take a deep breath, then slams both of his hands to hold my shoulder while looking me dead in the eyes.

"H-Hattori?! don't scare me like that." I said flinching at his action.

"Kudo. Listen carefully, I know what you are feeling." Hattori said in a serious tone.

"What is it?" I asked seriously while feeling a bit impatient since I want to know what I'm feeling.

"....You're jealous Kudo." Hattori said after a few second of silence as he start wheezing and laughing again.

"...Hattori stop joking I know this is not jealousy what is it Hattori." I said seriously while staring at him dead in the eyes.

"Kudo, what you're feeling right now IS in fact jealousy. You are just simply denial of the fact that you're jealous. You better eat your Okonomiyaki now rather than denying it since it's getting cold." Hattori said while munching on his Okonomiyaki.

"*Sigh* ok, are you messing with me though Hattori?" I asked one more time to make sure.

"Kudo I AM NOT MESSING WITH YOU ok, stop being denial." Hattori said with slightly irritated.

"Ok dark skinned man." I mumbled mockingly.

"what did you say?"

"Nothing, thanks for the Okonomiyaki Hattori."

"No problem Kudo, you better make it up to Y/n since you've been sort of avoiding her ok?"

"Ok ok I will"

. . .

"I'm back Y/n! I bought your favorite food here." I half-yelled through the halls of my house and switching to more comfortable clothes.

"Ah welcome back Shinichi! How did the case go? Did you manage to solve it?" Y/n asked from the kitchen with slight concern lacing her voice.

"Oh shit I almost forgot about my lie." I realized while facepalming at myself.

"It's a bit rough but it was solved in the end." I replied while walking to the kitchen.

"Ohh I see, that's nice to hear. W-Wait Shinichi can you go sit on the living room?" Y/n asked with slight nervousness in her tone.

"Sure but, is there something wrong in the kitchen?" I asked her while feeling a bit suspicious on her.

"No there's nothing wrong there, it's just if you're ok with it I want you to sit on the living room." Y/n said while biting the insides of her cheek.

"Ohh, ok I'll go to the living room." I said as I walk to the living room and sit on one of the couch.

"Thank you Shinichi, let me go get something for a second." Y/n said while disappearing from my view to the kitchen.

She then appeared with a Lemon pie with a glass of ice coffee on a tray.

"I make some Lemon pie when you we're away this afternoon. You better go get some rest if you can ok? Oh and, if the Lemon pie was not good, feel free to not eat it. I bought one from the bakery in case you want the ones from there more." Y/n said while putting the Pie and glass on top of the table.

"Why did you get 2 Lemon pies when you already know I like your Lemon pie?" I asked confusedly.

"Oh that, well uhh" Y/n starts to fumble around with her shirt nervously.

"I noticed you seem to avoid me more these days, so I think there's something wrong that I do although I don't know what it is. And I want to make it up to you so I made a Lemon pie. I just buy one in case you didn't like my cooking. I'm sorry if I did anything wrong these days." Y/n said while looking at the floor to avoid my gaze

"What? You did nothing wrong here, I was simply...Jumping on conclusions too fast." I said slightly embarrassed while Y/n's head shot up in confusion.

"I was uhh, jealous that you we're paying more attention to Kaito. Sorry if I was acting childish or do something wrong." I said while avoiding her gaze out of embarrassment.

"*Sigh* It's fine, just tell me next time ok? I don't want you to feel left out." Y/n said while slicing the Lemon pie.

"Ok, I will next time. Is it fine if I ask you for something now?" I said slightly doubting she would oblige.

"Of course, If there's anything I can do to make it up, I'll do it." Y/n replied right away.

"Oh ok, Is it fine if I uhh, cuddle with you?" I ask as I feel my cheeks sort of heating up.

"O-Oh uhh, sure." Y/n replied as I can see their ears are sort of red from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for making you feel left out." Y/n said with a muffled voice with her head buried on the crook of my neck.

"It's fine Y/n, let's just sleep for now." I said while yawning.

Y/n slowly starts to doze off as I kissed her forehead before I doze off with her to a peaceful sleep.

finish

#Shinichi x reader #Jealous shinichi x f reader #female reader

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imlokiodinson · 2 years

Text

Okay | Bucky Barnes

summary: The Winter Soldier program is back, and you’re on a mission to take it down. But things don’t always go as planned.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: fluff, fighting, hurt/comfort, mentions and depictions of blood and violence

word count: 2,280

a/n: sooo hi, this is my first fic! I had a dream about it and thought I’d write it down. I’d like to believe this is me and Buck in another universe. Enjoy, and let me know if you have any requests!

*a/n: hi all had to delete the blog and repost the entire thing because it glitched and wouldn't let me interact. lost all my engagement sadly 🥺

“How’s it going, guys?” You could hear Steve’s hushed voice through the comms.

You were on an op with Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Sam. Hydra has been operating underground for a few months now, and your team has been tracking their whereabouts and what they were doing.

When the information first came in, Bucky was devastated. They were trying to rebuild the Winter Soldier program. Zemo had executed all the Soldiers Bucky has trained as the former assassin; there weren’t supposed to be any more.

“I should’ve known they were going to try again!” His red rimmed eyes pleaded with you to understand the agony he was feeling. “I was supposed to be the last one.”

He spent an entire week in his room, barely eating, barely speaking, and your heart was breaking for him.

So right now, in the Hydra base you had found a couple of days ago, you were trying to complete your mission and get the hell out of there before it became too much for Bucky. Each of you had your specific role to ensure speed and efficiency. Steve and Natasha were paired up together trying to get the super soldiers out of their cryostasis chambers, Sam was blocking the entrance with not so friendly fire, and you and Bucky were retrieving all the information and data you could before you burn the place to the ground.

“Almost done, Stevie.” You said as you rushed to get everything onto the disk you had plugged into the computer. The screen emitted a low light, being the only thing that illuminated the dark room other than the hallway’s flickering fluorescents. Bucky was next to the door, eyes frantic and gun in hand, ready for anyone that might come your way.

“You okay, Buck?” Your worried glance wasn’t lost on him, but the last thing he wanted was for his fear to jeopardize the mission.

“Yeah… yeah.” He sighed as he scratched his neck.

The low beep behind you broke your gaze on him.

“Okay, that’s it, let’s get the hell out of here.”

He smiled softly at you, and put his hand to his comm.

“Cap, we’re done. Status?”

“On our way out, meet you back at the quinjet.” Steve’s tone instantly gave away that he wasn’t feeling well after whatever he saw in that other room.

“Okay.” You whispered as you went to pull the drive out.

Immediately, a dozen small screens lit up on the wall behind the computer, flashing with images and videos that made your stomach churn.

“None of them turned out like you, Soldat.”

You turned only to see Bucky’s hardened eyes. But you know him too well, and you could see the panic rumbling just beneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any given second.

“We always wondered why,” Zola’s mechanical voice echoed in the half empty room, “It did not matter though. The serum and programming have been perfected to overcome that thing you like to call morality.”

Bucky’s hands were shaking by now. You could tell he was restraining himself. You were almost out of there, just a few steps, a few minutes.

“It has come to my attention that you deprogrammed in the time we’ve been apart, Sergeant Barnes. How well did that work out.”

“You can’t control him anymore.” You called out angrily. How did he still have the guts to think he can intimidate Bucky?

“You can’t control me anymore.” Bucky whispered, repeating your sentiment.

There was an ominous pause before the voice spoke out again.

“Longing.”

Your neck strained with how fast your head turned to look at Bucky. His jaw clenched and unclenched; his hand fisted at his sides, the other gripping the gun tighter.

“Rusted.”

You had known Bucky long enough to know his trigger words.

“Seventeen.”

“It won’t work!” Bucky yelled.

“Daybreak.”

“I’m not him anymore!”

“Furnace.”

“Bucky,” your eyes were wide at this point.

“Nine.”

“You’ve already beaten this.” Your voice bellowed in the small room.

“Benign.”

He was shaking, sweat pooling on his forehead. His eyes were cast downwards, and you could see tears falling freely.

“Homecoming.”

“You need to get out of here.” His eyes held yours, his gun now discarded on the floor next to him.

“No, Buck, you’re okay!” You tried to reason with him.

“One.”

“No,” He whispered as he fell to his knees, “NO!” he yelled at the ceiling, mad at Hydra, mad at Zola, mad at himself.

“Bucky?” You called as you took a step forward.

“Get back!” His full body was shaking at this point, his eyes trained on the floor, “I said get out! Please!”

“Are you sure? Okay, I will.”

“Freight car.”

It was too late.

His eyes instantly flicked up to you, and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Soldat?” Zola called out.

“Ready to comply.”

“No…” You gasped.

“Kill her, then await further instructions.” There was smugness in Zola’s voice, and you wanted to throw up.

“Bucky, you know me.” You tried as he got up on his feet.

No answer.

He just stared at you like he never even spent a minute with you before.

“We’re friends!”

He took a step forward, before looking down at his gun.

It all happened so quickly. He bent down to grab it, as you went for the gun in your holster. He was firing at you before you could even blink.

But you couldn’t shoot at him.

You hid behind the desk and closed your eyes.

“Buck, I don’t wanna do this!”

The bullets stopped, and you opened your eyes, “Bucky?” you breathed out.

Suddenly he was rounding the desk corner, his gun already aimed at you. You scrambled to get up and hide behind the other side, firing one warning shot at the ceiling.

You were suddenly lifted into the air, a strong black and gold metal hand wrapped around your neck from behind you, before being slammed back first onto the desk.

“Bucky, please!” You tried to choke out, but his eyes were emotionless. Dead.

You had to do something, to fight, or just lie back down and die. Bucky wouldn’t want that.

You lifted your knee and slammed it into his ribcage, successfully pulling him off you for a moment. Before he could hold you down again, you rolled to the side and off the desk, your gun aimed at him. You had to shoot him, you had to. He was gonna kill you. He was already aiming at you.

But your finger hesitated on the trigger. How could you shoot your Buck?

He started shooting again, and you shot at his gun. It fell scattering to the floor, and he stared at it for half a second before lunging at you. He grabbed you by the shoulders, throwing you like a ragdoll to slam against the wall. You tried to get up, but your arms were too weak.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes,” you wiped the blood from your now split lip, “You were born in 1917, your sister is called Rebecca. Your best friend is Steve Rogers, and he’s right outside. I’m your friend, and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

He stared at you, eyes blank. Then only for a second, something flashed in them.

But his gun was aimed at you again faster than whatever you saw in his eyes.

“Okay then, Bucky. Shoot me. Kill me. You’re my friend, and I know this isn’t your fault.” You said as you pressed your comms discretely.

“What? What’s going on?” Steve’s panicked voice could be heard, but you guessed it was only in your comm, not Bucky’s too.

“I know you’re trying to fight it,” his eyes looked pained behind the scope of his gun, “Please fight it, Buck.”

“Hold tight, we’re coming to you.” Steve said with resolve, and you were left with trying to distract the soldier for a while longer.

“Do you remember when you saved me on my first mission?” You wondered out loud.

He stayed silent, not shooting, but not lowering his gun.

“I was bleeding out, and man did you hate my guts,” you laughed lowly.

“But you saved me anyway, you took care of me till we got back to the compound, you stayed by my bed till I could actually stand on my feet.”

His chin trembled and there was pain in his eyes.

“You’re that Bucky, you’re not him anymore.”

His eyes widened as his gun fell to the floor, him falling to his knees along with it, his head in his hands. His breathing was labored, and he was almost sobbing. But as he looked up, he saw someone else there.

The Winter Soldier was in front of him, like a sick twisted physical manifestation of the monster that tortured him for dozens of years.

He stood tall and proud, staring at James that trembled weakly on the floor.

“You’re not real.” Bucky whispered.

“Of course, I am. I am you.” The soldier said lowly, blankly.

“Bucky…?” You were confused at this point. He just stopped fighting you altogether, and now he was talking to himself?

“No… I’m not you anymore.”

“What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to scoot closer to him, but it was like he couldn’t even see you.

“You will always be me. I will always be part of you.” The soldier said confidently, flexing his silver metal arm.

Bucky sobbed helplessly into his hands, whispering ‘No’ over and over again.

“I’m going to take over now, and I’ll continue my kill count, starting with her.” He pointed a hand at you.

That was it.

He was instantly up on his feet, “NO! You leave her out of this.”

By now you had an idea of what was going on inside Bucky’s brain. “That’s it, Buck! Fight him!”

“Come on James, this is who you really are.” The soldier said with a head tilt, taunting Bucky even more.

“My name is James Bucky Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Soldier.”

To you it just looked like Bucky collapsing on the floor, holding his head, screaming.

But to him, it was so much more.

He was fighting the soldier, hand to hand. His style was more agitated and aggressive, while the soldier’s was fluid and smooth. Bucky grunted as he took a fist to the gut, but was quick up on his feet, kicking one into the soldier’s knees. The soldier’s legs buckled as he fell, but he ducked just as Bucky’s fist was coming into contact with his face.

No words were exchanged, just pure rage flowed like smoke through the air. The soldier was quick, but he wasn’t filled with the determination that Bucky had.

They danced around the room, in a beautiful choreography of desperation and wrath.

Bucky blocked the soldier’s blows, and administered some successful ones of his own. He could do this, he could overpower him, he thought. Bucky kicked him harshly in the chest, and when the soldier doubled over, he held him in a death grip lock.

But he is the Winter Soldier after all. He grabbed Bucky’s arm that was choking him up and flipped him over so he was on his back on the ground. Bucky grunted, and the soldier quickly straddled him to choke him out.

“I will always win, James.” His eyes were blank but focused.

“You’ve never won, Soldat,” Bucky spat through gritted teeth, “You lost everything, and you will always lose.”

In a split second, Bucky flipped them over, not hesitating to blow one punch after the other.

He screamed louder with each fist that came down on the soldier’s face.

And to you, he was still screaming, holding his head.

His eyes widened suddenly, and his back straightened with a sharp gasp, as if he was under water and had just come up for a breath of fresh air. You scooted quickly to him, just in time as he collapsed into your arms.

“Buck? Bucky? Is that you” You were panicked.

“I’m not turning into the Winter Soldier.” His eyes fluttered close, “I’m turning into a superhero.” He laughed breathlessly, like he couldn’t believe that someone like him could ever be a savior, a helper.

You couldn’t help but sigh with a smile, “You are a superhero, Buck. You’re an Avenger.”

You heard footsteps in the hallway as Steve and Nat came into view.

“Are you okay? Is he okay?” Steve was breathless, eyes flicking between the two of you.

You nodded and smiled, looking down at Bucky.

He was curled with you on the ground, his hands around your waist and his head on your chest as you sat catching your breaths.

He held onto you, like you were his only lifeline.

He looked up at you with the sweetest eyes and whispered,

“I’m okay. We’re okay,”

“She saved me.” His arms tightened around you as he nuzzled his face back into your chest, and you smiled even more.

“You saved yourself, Buck.”

That night, you went back to the compound, and you gave Bucky the offer to sleep in your room. He accepted it. As you slipped into bed, the both of you didn’t even think about keeping your distance from each other.

He was shaken up, and so were you. You never thought you would meet the Winter Soldier, but it must have been harder for Bucky to be him again, after thinking he was finally safe.

You held him through the night, shushing his soft gasps and wiping away tears that strayed from his eyes in his sleep.

He’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.

#bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #james bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky x yn #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #oneshot #fic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction

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how-masterful · 2 years

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31 FICS OF FRIGHT

DAY 2- THE GUILTY PARTY

Simm!Master x Reader

Prompt: Party

Notes: Day two and we’re still on schedule! I also believe this is the first Simm master fic i’ve ever posted. Welcome to the club! Enjoy! (Also perhaps the smallest notes i’ve ever written. Maybe i’ll start putting jokes in here.)

Warnings: None

The Master leant against the TARDIS, wearing a typical frown.

He raked his eyes over the exterior of the club, arms folded in his stance, before glancing at his watch.

The time read 3:07 am. You said you’d be done by 3.

The Master had been more than gracious when he’d allowed you to go to your old friend's Halloween party- usually he found any reason to excuse himself away from Earth. But you’d begged and pleaded for a pit stop, claiming he didn't even have to attend with you. The whole time travel thing was still new to you, especially in the permanent form it took now you’d moved into the TARDIS and committed to a relationship, instead of the on off adventures and painful flirting. He’d suspected you’d gotten a little home sick, after several months of excitement.

Typical, and on a good day understandable.

But as the Master stood in the freezing cold, waiting for you to arrive, he found it remarkably annoying.

“Why do they always have to be human, these companions?”

He muttered to the TARDIS, the machine (which had cloaked itself into an old red telephone box, perhaps in her own mocking costume of her sister) wheezing in reply.

“I don't care, it could be the best party on earth. 3 means 3.”

The TARDIS groaned, and the Master rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me all that. Right-”

He checked his watch once again. 3:10 AM.

“This is ridiculous.”

With a huff, the Master pushed himself from the edge of the TARDIS, storming his way towards the club entrance. A large bouncer wearing devil horns stood at the door, flanked by another wearing an angel halo. The angel stuck out an arm as the Master approached, blocking him from the front door.

“Hold on, mate. Rules of the night: No costume, no getting in.”

The Master sighed, fisting his hands into his pockets.

“I am in costume.”

The devil smirked, tilting his head.

“Oh yeah, what are you supposed to be?”

Oh, the things the Master did for you. He put on his best casual voice, regretting every part of this stupid Halloween party.

“I’m that prime minister from a few years back, Harold Saxon.”

The guards stood together, tilting their heads before squinting and looking closer at the Masters face.

“Oh yeah… bloody hell.” The angel offered. The devil laughed, looking closer. The Master smiled, tinged with murder as he invaded his personal space.

“Tell you what mate- either that's a weird resemblance, or you’re cracking at makeup.”

“In you go, Mr Saxon.”

The Master hummed sarcastically, smile immediately falling as he passed through the doors, the bouncers laughing to each other behind him as he disappeared into the dark.

Instantly club music assaulted his hears, the place covered head to toe in strobe lights, streamers, and cheap party decor. Cardboard skeletons, crepe paper banners, rubber bats, the Master sneered at the drunken partygoers amongst it all- stumbling around in even cheaper, skimpier costumes, grinding to obnoxious techno remixes of relatively decent old songs. Not every song needed dubstep and a bass drop, he grumbled internally.

He headed towards the dance floor, passing a buffet of picked over party favours and a bar offering sickly themed shots. Trick or treat tequila slammers? Just the thought made his stomach churn.

Not that the Master couldn't handle his liquor, he just thought it rather tacky.

The floor lit up in checkerboard fashion, groups of people dancing on top as the neon green and purple lights pelted across the room. He scanned over the crowd, searching for the most tolerable human in the room, when his gaze finally landed upon your form. You hadn’t allowed him to see your costume, hiding it in a bag as you excitedly skipped out of the TARDIS, but the Master had been morbidly curious. He gaped at the sight of you, mouth dropping open slightly.

You’d dressed yourself in a tight latex playsuit, prison stripes across your chest, a handcuff belt at your middle. Glittering fishnets up your legs, dark kohl across your eyes, number on your back, and a sparkling red lip- you’d dressed yourself as the perfect prisoner. The Master dared to almost gawp.

Instead, he made his way across the floor, passing through clusters of dancers before making his way behind your back. You gasped at the feeling of a hand on your bicep, ready to yell at whatever creep had decided to try, when you gasped at the appearance of the Master. You stumbled in your heels slightly as you felt him begin to pull you away from your fun.

“Master, what the hell?!”

“You’re late, and I'm on earth! Now C’mon!”

“Aw, Master please!”

The Master sighed, pausing in his trek to pull you close to his chest.

“Give and take, sweetheart. I gave you the night off, now I'm taking you home.”

“But what if I want to stay and party?”

The Master narrowed his eyes. You weren't drunk, but you were slightly tipsy, wobbling in your heels. He evaluated his options- but between the pulsating music, blinding lights and your puppy dog expression, he found it hard to focus. He looked you up and down once more. Suddenly, he found his way in.

“Then i’ll have to arrest you.”

“What?-”

Before you could fully question him, the Master had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder, carrying you through the club and back towards the exit. You squealed, unable to hide your giggles as you kicked your legs. Fine, you’d join his game.

“No, don't arrest me! Partying hard isn't a crime!”

“You have the right to remain silent, sweets. I suggest you use it.”

“I want my lawyer!”

You squealed once again as the palm of the Master's hand crashed into your ass cheek in a swift spank, a hiccup pulling itself from your throat.

“I’m being framed! Not Guilty! Judge!”

The Master carried you out the front door of the club, the angel and devil nodding as he headed out towards the phone booth. You laughed heartily as he kicked open the front door, your giggles disappearing into the TARDIS.

The bouncers curiously watched as the machine roared to life, the red phone booth disappearing into the darkness with a loud wheeze.

The angel and devil turned to each other with the same expression of alarm, before settling into numb surprise.

“Wow.. a makeup artist AND a magician.”

#simm!master #simm!master x reader #john simm #The Master #doctor who #bbc doctor who #bbc #the master x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #Self Insert #x reader #reader insert #reader #Doctor Who fanfic #master x reader #Halloween #party #31 fics of fright

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phoebenpiperx · 11 months

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Third Second Time's a Charm

Chapter 3 = It's the morning of the wedding, and Carlos would like to lie in bed all morning...but TK and Iris have other plans for him.

a 911 Lone Star Tarlos fic - read the first chapters on ao3 here

...

CHAPTER 3

...

The original plan—when they’d first discussed it eight weeks ago—was to go entirely traditional. Of course, neither of them would be wearing a white bridal gown, but it was important to both grooms that the wedding be as traditional as possible. Important to TK because getting married to his soulmate was something he’d dreamed of his whole life...and important to Carlos because this time, this marriage really meant something.

As such, the pair had planned to follow tradition and spend their wedding eve apart, not seeing each other from after the rehearsal until the pair walked down the aisle together the next afternoon.

But when they’d uncanceled the wedding, Carlos had insisted on one change to their plans—he wanted to spend their wedding eve together. The middle of the night was when Carlos felt his grief the deepest, and he knew his pre-wedding jitters would only make things worse as he agonized the night before over whether he was making the right decision to go through with the wedding so soon after his dad’s death. TK had been quick to relent to his request, and Carlos guessed it was the one tradition his fiancé hadn’t been all that eager to follow anyway.

Awaking wrapped in TK’s comforting arms Saturday morning, Carlos knew he’d made the right decision. As expected, it had been a rough night, tossing and turning for hours in the dark. It felt so reassuring to just lie here now, safe and warm in TK’s embrace, knowing that they would soon be committing their lives to one another, even though his father wouldn’t be there to see it.

Carlos would’ve liked to stay here forever, but he eventually began to grow restless, knowing how much there was to do today. Having canceled and then uncanceled the wedding, there were so many last-minute details that needed to be tended to today, and Carlos was anxious that, if they didn’t start soon, they wouldn’t have time to get everything done before the guests began to arrive.

TK must’ve sensed Carlos was awake—and eager to get up—for he murmured, “Morning, babe,” before pressing a gentle kiss behind his fiancé’s ear.

Carlos sighed contentedly, closing his eyes again as TK began tenderly kissing down his neck. Surely the wedding planning could wait a few more minutes, Carlos thought to himself, relishing TK’s touch for a bit more before murmuring back, “Mmm, morning, fiancé.”

TK chuckled, which Carlos felt more than heard. “That’s the last time you’ll be able to wake up and say that,” he pointed out. “We’ll only be fiancés for 6 more hours.”

Now it was Carlos’s turn to chuckle. TK was obviously exaggerating, since the wedding wasn’t scheduled until late afternoon. He rolled over to face his fiancé, teasing, “I know you’re eager to be married, babe, but even you can’t be that bad at math.”

“Hey!” TK playfully shoved Carlos’s shoulder, causing him to fall onto his back. “I use math all the time. For dosages and stuff.”

“And stuff?” Carlos continued to tease, rolling back again. “Yet you can’t even calculate how many hours till our wedding.”

TK frowned. “What do you mean? It’s in six hours, like I said.”

Carlos laughed. “Yeah, right. Like I’d actually sleep in till 10:30 on the morning of my wedding.”

TK knew he could never sleep past 7, even after working a late shift...or a night of exuberant love-making. And last night they’d gone to bed fairly early, “because we need our beauty sleep,” TK had insisted.

Besides, Carlos certainly couldn’t have slept in that late today of all days! There were simply too many things that needed to get done—his barely conscious mind was already churning with tasks.

“You’re right,” TK shrugged against his pillow, admitting, “Technically it’s only 10:15, but I was rounding.”

It took a moment for the true meaning of this to penetrate Carlos’s mind.

But when it finally did...

“What?!”

Carlos instantly sat up, throwing off the covers and starting to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “TK, how could you have let me sleep in so late?! Don’t you realized how much stuff needs to be done today?!”

“Yeah, I know, babe,” TK soothed, calmly grabbing Carlos’s hand before he could stand. “But...it’s gonna be fine. You don’t need to rush. We’ve got you covered.”

“We?”

“My dad and your mom are already at the venue, taking care of everything. And I’ll be joining them shortly.”

Carlos frowned, quickly correcting, “You mean WE will be joining them shortly.”

TK merely responded with a shrug and a sheepish grin.

“Tyler,” Carlos began, instantly suspicious of his fiancé’s response.

But before he could say more, the doorbell rang.

TK gave a sigh of relief, joking, “Saved by the bell,” before jumping out of bed himself and scurrying out of the room.

Carlos continued to sit on the edge of the bed for a moment, his mind racing—until he heard the voice at the front door.

Iris’s voice.

Carlos was instantly on his feet, hurrying out to the front room. “Iris? What are you doing here?”

Iris raised her eyebrows, giving him a once-over. “I see your taste in sleepwear hasn’t improved any.” As Carlos glanced down at his sweaty tank and drawstring shorts—the boys hadn’t exactly been keeping up with their laundry since his dad died—Iris turned back to TK, saying, “I thought you were going to have him up and ready before I got here.”

TK shrugged. “We agreed to let him sleep in. And clearly he needed the sleep—he hasn’t been sleeping well since...you know.”

Iris nodded. “He always did stay up late fretting.”

Carlos realized they were talking as if he weren’t even in the room.

And he still didn’t know why Iris was on his doorstep.

“Iris, what’s going on? Why are you here?”

She turned to him, matter-of-factly declaring, “I’m kidnapping you for the day.”

“Iris!” TK scolded, clearly horrified, as he made frantic slashing motions across his throat. “Too soon! Ixnay on the idnapping-kay!”

Iris frowned. “It’s been eight weeks,” she pointed out. “I’m over it; I’m sure Carlos is, too.”

She was correct; Carlos wasn’t all that concerned right now about what had gone down with Trudie and her crazy, murderous son. Instead, he was mostly concerned about what her current statement meant.

“What do you mean you’re kidnapping me for the day?”

TK turned to his fiancé, explaining “The last few days have been rough for you, babe.”

Iris nodded. “And we knew that if you spent the entire day at the venue, you’d just be stressed and overthinking the whole time. Just like you did the day of our wedding.”

“And we worried that you’d be so focused on all the little stuff that didn’t get done in time or wasn’t exactly perfect, you wouldn’t even enjoy the wedding itself,” TK continued.

“So I’m taking you away from all that,” Iris announced.

But Carlos couldn’t get past what his fiancé had said.

“What’s not going to get done on time? Didn’t Owen get in touch with the florist? Doesn’t the caterer know everyone’s dietary restrict—“

“Babe,” TK said, putting a comforting hand on Carlos’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. Our...uh...my dad and your mom are taking care of everything.”

Although he’d tried to gloss over it, Carlos had noticed. TK had almost said, “Our parents.” But each of them now only had one.

And Carlos’s mom clearly did not need this kind of stress and responsibility only days after burying her husband in the ground.

“My mom shouldn’t have to do all this, not so soon after my dad’s funeral.” Hell, a few days ago she’d fallen apart when she couldn’t find the insurance papers, which had been on the desk right in front of her the whole time. She was still grieving—she didn’t need this added pressure, today of all days. HE was the one who wanted this; HE should be the one to do all the work.

Or else perhaps they shouldn’t be doing this at all. Perhaps they shouldn’t have uncanceled the wedding. It had obviously been a selfish decision on Carlos’s part. He’d only been thinking about himself, about what HE needed, not about his mom. Maybe it wasn’t too late to—

“Babe,” TK said, tenderly tightening his grip on Carlos’s shoulder, “it’s all good. Your mom volunteered to help.”

“Everyone wants to give you the best wedding possible,” Iris said with a smile, adding under her breath, “Or at least better than your last one.”

TK nodded. “So Iris decided it’d be best to just keep you busy all day.”

“Busy?” It was obvious Carlos should be busy working on the wedding, not running off with Iris. “Doing what exactly?”

“All the stuff I did the day of my wedding,” Iris said matter-of-factly. “Brunch—though we’re almost too late for that now—manicure, pedicure. You know—basically getting you ready.”

TK gave a mischievous grin, adding, “And maybe, if there’s time, the two of you can relax and watch a few episodes of Teen Wolf together.”

Carlos’s eyes widened in horror as he turned to Iris. “You TOLD him?”

“That you were a huge Sterek shipper?” TK sniggered. “Oh yeah, she told me!”

Carlos buried his face in his hands. There were certain things from his past that he simply did not want his soon-to-be-husband to know.

Which meant keeping Iris as far away from TK as possible.

Which meant Carlos was simply going to have to go along with this ridiculous plan of theirs. No last-minute organizing. No rushing around the venue, checking up on everything. No being there to make sure TK remembered his pocket square and his kippah.

Instead, Carlos needed to spend the day with Iris.

And just hope she hadn’t spilled anything more to TK...or mentioned the Sterek fanfic!

...

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanfic #tarlos fanfic #tarlos wedding #too soon???#special thanks to @yuki_chicken for the brainstorming

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding.

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought.

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning.

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding.

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations.

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong.

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour.

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date.

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area.

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures.

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment.

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly.

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being.

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives.

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often.

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day.

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red.

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting.

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way.

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were.

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models.

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow.

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much.

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous.

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that.

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London.

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on.

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner.

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar.

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant.

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them.

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

“I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date.

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him.

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so.

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight.

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones.

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition.

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment.

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after.

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

Hair and makeup went fast.

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving.

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding.

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing.

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about.

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design.

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family.

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle.

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony.

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***.

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm.

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off.

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless.

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple.

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

The reception is more of a dinner than a party.

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect.

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry.

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle.

There is not much more to say than that.

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough.

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night.

To have someone laid out underneath him.

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek.

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay.

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers.

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them.

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would.

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

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