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bvckys-doll · 3 years

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Masquerade

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: Y/N and her family are invited to a masquerade ball since Netherfield hall has a new owner: Lord James Buchanan Barnes. What (Y/N) does not know is that this will be her last night among the living.

Warnings: soft!dark themes here! A bit of manipulation. Blood! Pride and Prejudices vibes at the beginning of the fic.

Author’s note: I’m happy that I can finally post this one because I’m a whore for masquerade balls and vampires! Especially Vampire!Bucky! This goes out to @emily-roberts (who can’t be tagged unfortunately) since they inspired me to work on Masquerade here! Maybe this will get a sequel, i’m not sure yet.

You can find my masterlist here!

The year is 1867. Queen Victoria is still in power, and the country is at peace. At least, to the people who are lucky enough to live in the countryside in England. Especially the women who were the ones that learned the least of the ongoing problems around the world. At this time in history, they were mostly excluded from these kinds of conversations. Something (Y/N) was deeply offended by.

Most of the women around her had only one thing on their mind: the latest gossip and men.

Nothing would fit better into the gossip than a mysterious lord who had recently moved into the large estate near Netherfield Park. The whole city was in turmoil, and everyone wanted to get one of the coveted invitations to the grand inauguration party.

(Y/N) could still remember the day a few weeks ago when her mother was running around the house in a rage and talking to herself over and over again. Her father had tried to ignore his wife as much as possible.

“I have heard from Mrs. Brenstock that the new Lord of Netherfield Park is about to give a ball. A ball, Mr. Edwards! Can you imagine that? He doesn’t seem to have sent out any invitations yet, otherwise, we would have gotten one by now, wouldn’t we? Tell me I’m right” she had let herself sink into her chair. With the thick needle in her hand, she repeatedly stabbed her new embroidery cloth.

(Y/N) had been sitting across from her mother at the time and hardly noticed her rambling about the ball, as the young lady was too absorbed in her thoughts about her newest book, which was on the table in front of her.

For her mother, this was finally the chance to marry her off to a rich man. Perhaps even to the owner of the estate himself, since many speculated him to be single. Most women of (Y/N)’s age were already married, some even had children.

It wasn’t that (Y/N) wasn’t very talkative. If she was given a suitable subject, she could chat for hours, but her mother had always preached to her that no man wanted a woman with a loud attitude. Despite all this, (Y/N) didn’t kept her mouth shut and spoke freely about what she thought. Mostly.

It had been a month since that conversation between her parents and (Y/N) was now sitting with them in a carriage on their way to the estate of the new lord of Netherfield Park.

The letter had arrived about two days after the long discussion between her mother and her quiet father. (Y/N) seemed to be more relieved than her mother because she couldn’t bear her constant chatting and complaining about the ball.

In her lap was a white mask that her mother had brought home a few days ago. A masquerade. That was the order of the new landlord. An unusual way to celebrate a party, where you wanted to get to know the locals better, but (Y/N) didn’t put much thought into it.

With a calm look, she peered out of the window of the carriage and could see how the estate grew in the distance. The lights were shining through the high windows towards them as they rode the carriage to the large courtyard, where some other women were already getting out of their carriages and ascending the great marble staircase with their families.

Her father was the first to go out of the carriage, before he helped his wife out. In the end, he reached out to his daughter. For a brief moment, (Y/N) struggled with the wide skirt of her dress, before standing firmly on the ground.

Once again, she let her gaze wander over the courtyard and looked up at the broad facade of the estate. Suddenly (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone who seemed to be looking down at them and was watching what was going on. But before (Y/N) could take a closer look, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hall.

Upstairs in the said room, James watched how the carriages gathered in the courtyard and presented the different guests of almost every status. All came to see some of the wealth of the estate and the treasures that were on display in its halls.

“How many people will visit us tonight? Take a guess” Steve asked him. He was sitting at his best friend’s desk and had put his feet on the tabletop while he leaned back.

James’s gaze was still on the staircase as his gaze followed the woman who had just looked up at him. Yet he replied, “More than two hundred, I would say. Enough to get our bellies full for the next month. You’re going to keep them under control, aren’t you? We need posts at every door.”

“Of course. I’ve never worked sloppy before. You should know that”, Steve winked at him before he stood up and drained the last remaining blood out of his cup. The next moment he pulled some gloves out of his jacket and put them on “But answer me one. Why a masquerade?”

“You don’t want anyone to remember us by mistake, do you?”, a dark smile grazed James features. A similar smile came up on Steve’s face before he pulled the mask over his eyes and left.

In the meantime, the large ballroom of the estate had filled with guests and a small orchestra on a raised balcony played quiet music.

With all the hustle, (Y/N) wondered if she would even recognize anyone. The masks just made it harder to spot anyone she knew. Maybe she could get away from her mother. Time and time again she looked for familiar eyes.

Nervously, she again smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt and chewed around her lower lip. With each breath, it seemed to her as if the corsage of her dress was still lacing up.

Before her inner rambling could cause her to make her more uncomfortable, the hitting of a staff made the crowd go quiet. Everyone held their breath and turned to the source of the voice “Please welcome Lord James Buchanan Barnes and Colonel Steven Grant Rogers!”

The guests applauded in honour of the two men who were standing on a raised platform at the end of the hall. One of them stepped forward and raised his wine glass. (Y/N) couldn’t make out his features. Still, he wore a fancy dark suit with a wine-red tie. His slightly longer hair was tied with a ribbon in the back of his head. Although (Y/N) couldn’t see his eyes, they seemed pitch black.

“It is an honour to welcome you all to my new home. Until now, I have been welcomed with kindness in this beautiful little town and I am very happy to get to know you all better soon. I haven’t even lived here for a month, but it already feels like home to me. Let us all enjoy this evening. Sing, laugh and dance!”, his voice echoed through the room. It gave (Y/N) goosebumps.

He raised his glass to which his guests responded with the same gesture before they all took a sip of their drinks. It took less than five seconds, and the conversations were resumed. It was as if that greeting had never happened.

But (Y/N) could not take her eyes of her host. This was the person she had previously seen standing at the window. Before she could look away from him, he had already noticed her and seemed to reply to her stare. She tensed.

She hastily looked at the wine glass in her hand, from which she quickly took a short sip. The music started again. This time a bit louder than before because the guests began to dance. It wouldn’t take long for her mother to approach her once again and tell her daughter to find a suitable dance partner for the night.

“Do you see that woman over there? The one in the red dress and the white mask”, Bucky walked next to Steve as they made their way through the guests, who all respectfully stepped aside and bowed. Again and again, the two nodded to some people appreciatively.

Steve followed his friend’s gaze unobtrusively and nodded briefly “Pretty little thing. Do you want to go play or save her all to yourself for the night?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I am sure going to do something with her”, he winked at Steve and stopped at the edge of the dance floor, watching his guests dance. Shortly thereafter, Steve also left him to dance with his wife Margaret, who approached them.

While his friends were busy having fun at the party, James resumed his search for the woman he had just spotted. It did not take long for him to find her her standing next to an elderly couple, who seemed to have an exciting conversation with two other guests. The woman herself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and kept sipping on her glass. That was his cue.

(Y/N) gave out a soft sigh and investigated her wine glass, which would soon be empty. She listened with one ear to the conversation of her parents but did not attempt to participate herself. The unknown woman just boasted how her daughter had married a wealthy man from Oxford some time ago and now lived there. (Y/N) was already getting ready for a sermon from her mother.

Once again, the young woman raised her glass to her red lips as suddenly-

“Excuse me if I bother you but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” said a deep voice to her, which seemed quite familiar to (Y/N). Her gaze wandered from her glass to the chest of the man standing before her. Her breath was stunted. It was Lord Barnes looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He held out his hand to her, but (Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.

For a moment, it seemed as if (Y/N) had forgotten to have a normal and decent conversation when her mother stepped in and tore the glass out of her hand “She would be honoured to dance with you, Lord Barnes.”

A charming smile spread across his lips as her mother said so. But he turned his gaze to (Y/N) again and asked for her approval “I hope that is indeed the case.”

(Y/N) blinked. Once, twice.

“Yes, I would very much like to dance with you”, she now agreed herself and took his hand, which he still held out to her. He gently drew her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand “What a relieve.”

It was not only her mother who lost her breath at this gesture. Like in a trance, (Y/N) followed her new dance partner onto the wide dance floor, where people automatically made room for them in awe. Soon he stopped with her in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her to his chest, where she instinctively assumed her posture and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Slowly the music started anew. A slow waltz. Controlled, he guided her through the room, and it seemed as if (Y/N) had never done anything else in her life. Every step was exactly as it should be. It was as if they were floating over the dance floor. At least, it seemed like that to her.

“I hope I didn’t take you by surprise”, James remarked, looking down at his dance partner, who focused her eyes on his chest. The reason behind it was the fact that he was a lot taller than her.

Hastily (Y/N) shook her head as her cheeks heated up “Not at all, my lord. I was just surprised, that’s all. There are so many beautiful young women here, I wondered why you chose me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have just chosen the prettiest in the room”, James replied, presenting her his charming smile, which made his eyes light up for a second. (Y/N)’s knees got soft. It seemed liked she had been enchanted by his aura.

It wasn’t long before the music became quieter and stopped. Together with the other couples, they stopped and applauded the musicians before James gave her his arm and whispered to her “Would you like to accompany me outside? It seems to be getting a little stuffy in here.”

A lie. It’s been years since James truly breathed air.

“I would love to.”, (Y/N) nodded and took shelter with her host before following him out onto the wide terrace. On their way there, (Y/N) did not notice James meeting the eyes of one of his men. It was Sam who stood near the exit and smiled at his friend. He knew James had found someone new to play with. If only it were for tonight.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” James looked up to the sky, where thousands of stars were glowing. It was more common here in the countryside. In the cities, the stars could be barely seen by the smoke rising through the chimneys into the sky.

(Y/N) followed his gaze and leaned forward against the wide stone railing. She nodded back, “Yes, it is. You haven’t seen such a sight very often, have you? I mean, I heard you moved out of town. What prompted you to do this?”

“The war and tranquillity I am looking for”, James replied honestly this time and turned his gaze back to (Y/N), who was still looking up at the stars, but noticed how he looked at her with his eyes: “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“You didn’t ask for it either”, (Y/N) replied quick and smiled.

Oh, she’s cheeky. I like that.

He laughed for a moment and neck before he asked, “May I know your name, milady?”

At last, she looked at him again and her eyes shone as she replied with a smile, “My name is (Y/N). And I’m not a lady, my lord.”

The tension she had felt before in his presence was blown away. She felt comfortable in his presence, but she couldn’t explain why. He radiated a certain calmness that made her feel safe and comfortable.

He tilted his head to the side as he smiled, “The name suits you. But tell me, (Y/N), why would a pretty woman like you be alone with your parents at a party like this? There must be a man in your life.”

“Why? Because a woman like me needs a man?” she answered with a counter-question. She wondered how long he would put up with it. But it seemed that the remark would excited him more.

He raised an eyebrow, to which she smiled briefly and replied honestly, “I have a mind of my own, as my mother says. Most men don’t like this feature very well. In our small town, they want a woman who makes a man look good. She has to be pretty and smart, but not too smart for her to make the man look stupid. She needs to be educated, but not waste too much time on it. The piano is very popular with most men.”

“Women who only deal with the latest gossip have never really interested me. Besides, I like to talk to women who can keep up with my intellect. Someone like you”, James replied honestly again, leaning his hip against the stone wall to take a close look at her.

As (Y/N) fixed her posture to look him right in the eye, he stepped foward. He gently raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin to raise it so that she could not take her eyes off of him, “Men can be stubborn, especially English men. But we Americans love it when a woman has something more on her mind than piano notes and pretty clothes. How boring it would be to have someone with you who only agrees with everything you say. I have met lots of these women, but I have seldom encountered someone like you.”

Smiling, (Y/N) held his gaze as he took his hand from her chin and took her hand in his. She looked down for a moment but did not attempt to let go.

“You’re the first man to say something like that to me, and you seem to mean it”, she smiled and briefly squeezed his hand. From the gloves he was wearing, she didn’t even notice how cold they were. Once again, he put her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, “I am glad to see my presence and my personality please you, Lady (Y/N).”

“As I said, I’m not a lady”, she laughed softly as her cheeks heated up once more. The smile on his lips made her knees soft again, “To me, you are one.”

With every moment that passed, he liked the young woman more and more. Something he didn’t expect. It was selfish, but he knew then and there he wouldn’t let her go. Not as fast as he had planned. It would be difficult to inspire her for eternity once he had done it.

A life like him could also be lonely and desolate. Many souls had already gone mad after being transformed and being unable to return to the world of the living. It drove them mad. He wouldn’t let his (Y/N) go crazy. Not so easily.

“My Lord?” her sweet voice tore him from the thoughts that were swirling through his head. His gaze fell back on her as she gave him a worried look. He gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face and smiled calmly, “Forgive me, I was in my head.”

“Do you think maybe we should go back to the hall? Your guests would also like to exchange a few words with you. I don’t want to besiege you forever”, (Y/N) glanced over her bare shoulder and looked at the tinted glass doors that shielded her from the guests. Many couples were on the dance floor together and seemed cheerful.

“I think my guests will be able to be just fine without my constant presence for a while. Besides, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to spend some more time with you”, he replied, following her gaze briefly before turning her gaze to him.

It seemed almost supernatural to (Y/N) that a man like Lord Barnes would take such an interest in her, but it was mutual. She didn’t want to leave him. Not yet. She was delighted with his company and gave him a warm smile before she replied, “And it would be a lie if I said I am not pleased by your interest.”

A burst of hearty laughter came over James' lips. It had been a long time since he had heard such words that had truly touched him. Smiling, he held her hand that was still in his, before leading (Y/N) from the terrace into the wide garden, where many lanterns illuminated their path.

(Y/N) had already placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the small maze that stood in the middle of the garden. The tall hedges shielded them from curious eyes as they disappeared deeper and deeper into the maze.

“My parents will probably be wondering where I am”, (Y/N) smiled as she followed James through the hedges, still holding his hand tightly in fear she could lose him. Apparently, he knew his way around the maze very well, for he guided them safely to a small square that marked the middle of the maze.

In the middle of the square stood a beautifully decorated pavilion, clad in red and white roses and ivy trees. James led her there and sat down with her on one of the two benches.

“Your parents know you’re in good hands with me. I would never allow anything…bad to happen to you”, James merely replied. (Y/N) couldn’t have known that evil himself was still holding her hand and concealing his cruel nature with a pretty face. He could feel her heartbeat speeding up a bit.

“You know, (Y/N), a life like mine. . . is very lonely”, he told her, looking at the flowers hanging next to him on a pole. Yet he noticed how her gaze stuck to him. In a calm voice he continued, “Although I am very wealthy and have seen so much of the world, I have been missing someone to share this life with for years. Someone who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to be with me just for my money and my land. Do you understand what I mean?”

His gaze fell back on her. (Y/N)’s eyes almost pierced through his head as her eyes turned glassy. A soft sigh escaped her as she gazed down into her lap.

“I understand you very well. Even though my mother’s efforts are straining me a lot, I still want someone who. . . likes me for me. Who wants me. Not for my dowry, but for myself. I have never spoken to someone who understands me as well. . . as you do”, she replied, being astonished at her words.

James Barnes was the first man she could talk to without having to pretend. Her slightly rough nature had not deterred him. He had been tenacious, but still kind and attentive. It’s been a long time since she met someone like him. His personality seemed to drew her even closer to him. As if there was an invisible ribbon, which now tied her to him.

“You are so much more than just your dowry and a pretty face, (Y/N). Maybe it’s too hasty, but it would be a pleasure for me to get to know you better. The real (Y/N), who doesn’t have to act and doesn’t want to impress anyone. I already know you a little, but. . . not quite yet”, he stroked her cheek, giving her goosebumps. In a good way.

A short smile grazed her lips as she put her hand on his, “I would also like to get to know you better, my lord.”

“Please call me James. The title is too formal for me”, he smiled gently at her and ran his thumb over her cheekbones as (Y/N) muttered softly, “As you wish,…James.”

Slowly, he noticed her pulse increasing. He looked her in the eyes again as he got closer, and she could feel his cold breath on her skin. For a brief moment, it seemed like a dream to her, but it became reality at the moment as his lips touched hers. (Y/N) froze. She wasn’t expecting that. Not yet.

Immediately he broke away from the kiss and pulled his hand from her cheek, “Sorry, that was a little too hasty of me.”

If there was still blood flowing through his body, he’d be blushed. For the first time in a long time, he seemed nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. But (Y/N) grabbed his hand and shook her head calmly, “No, please. I was just…surprised that you…feel that way about me.”

“You’re just…so different. In a positive way, of course”, he held her hand and squeezed it briefly once when (Y/N) was the one who came a little closer and leaned forward, “No, you must forgive me. I didn’t mean to reject you. I like you…very much.”

Now James knew it was the right time.

Slowly he leaned over to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Sighing her eyes closed as the young lady returned his kiss a little cautiously. After all, he had more experience in it than she did. But only now did (Y/N) realize how cold he was. It’s almost freezing.

“James, you’re so cold”, (Y/N) gently detached herself from the kiss and held her lips as he stroked her cheek and put a strand behind her ear: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Once again, he conquered her lips and pulled her closer to his chest. A little more courageously, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes again as he slowly continued to kiss her but wandered from her cheek down to her throat. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed his kisses on her warm skin. His lips were still cold, but now she did not seem to care anymore.

Soon he could hear her rapid heartbeat as he lavished kisses on her neck. (Y/N) did not notice how his eyes darkened and his teeth stretched into pointed pillars.

For a moment, James wrestled with himself over whether he should really kill her or go even further. Still, one thing was very clear. (Y/N) would never see the light of day again.

"Forgive me." he breathed against her soft skin and closed his eyes before placing his hand over her mouth. Before (Y/N) could even realize what was happening to her, he rammed his teeth into her neck. Her scream was stifled by his hand, but her body didn't give up so quickly. Panicked, she pushed and pounded against his chest as James sucked the blood from her body. But all her attempts did her no good, as he was far too strong for her.

Finally, she slumped lifelessly in his arms and sank against his chest. Sighing, James detached himself from her neck and pressed another soft kiss to the wound where his teeth had pierced her skin moments ago.

Gently he laid the young woman on the bench and pushed her hair out of her face. Carefully he untied the ribbon at the back of her head and pulled the mask from her face.

"Just as I imagined, my darling..." he ran his thumb over her lower lip and looked into her lifeless eyes before pulling his own mask off his face and tossing it on the floor beside him.

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand, "I'll take care of you, my angel. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. We'll be together forever."

#vampire!bucky barnes #soft dark theme #soft dark #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #female reader #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #dont repost #fanfiction #own gif #giphy #masquerade

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costellos · 3 years

Note

Got any blogs you recommend?

OH BOY DO I. before I begin, though, I know I have quite a few minors following me on this blog. I ask that you please respect these writers’ boundaries if they specifically state they’re 18+! it’s an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved, and by interacting with their blog, you’re violating the terms of their consent. I’ve included quite a few sfw blogs for you to look at, so by all means -- look all you like!

@densecloud | multi-fandom

favorite piece: what else can I do, except adore you? | ryomen sukuna (jjk)

BOY OH BOY. I love Leslie and literally everything she puts out there!!! she tends to focus on fluff and domestic pieces. and I know this is a given with these genres, but everything she writes is soooo comforting. not in a traditional sense, though. like if I had to describe it, her work reminds me of falling snow, a rainy day, or waking up at 3AM and being completely at peace. I think her piece “Chrysalism” exemplifies that best. there’s just something so serene about her craft that’s so unique from most other fluff-oriented authors.

please go give her work some love!!! Leslie is still relatively new to the tumblr writing scene and she deserves so much more attention on her work. (also she’s like. the funniest damn person I’ve had the honor of interacting on here. pls read her tags.)

@j0succ | multi-fandom, 18+

favorite piece: a well-rounded education | multiple (jjk)

Nat has SUCH a playful style and I can’t even begin to elaborate how much I love it. you can see this best with their “A Well-Rounded Education” series, especially in Nanami’s chapter! like everything in this chapter is just so fun, from the way they describe Nanami himself to how they highlight Gojo’s lightheartedness vs the Reader’s seriousness as teachers. plus! the tension in their stories!! so much sexual tension!!! Nat does a PHENOMENAL job at building up sexc scenes and I am so envious of their skill.

they’re also just a super open person. v non-judgmental on like literally everything. their blog has a lot of content on chubby!Reader, so check ‘em if that’s something you’re looking for!

@ddarker-dreams | multi-fandom, 18+

favorite piece: scarlet ribbons | bucci gang (jjba)

okay so Lock is most known for her horror content, but I feel like her fluff isn’t recognized enough. I am in LOVE with her Scarlet Ribbons series. each chapter makes me feel so warm. I also feel like she doesn’t get enough credit for her timing? like, there have been instances where I’ve literally laughed out loud to her pieces with Mista. ofc that comes to play in her horror content too, but she’s just a really funny person as a whole and I feel like that should be recognized.

overall - you know how you can tell when someone is smiling when they’re on the phone with you? that’s the kind of vibe I get when I read her work. Lock puts her everything into her craft, which is incredible considering she’s a full-time student!

@dear-yandere | multi-fandom

favorite piece: almost god | dio brando (jjba)

you’ve probably heard of Vanya if you’ve been on the tumblr fanfiction scene for a while! and for a good reason too -- her work is otherworldly. my jaw literally dropped reading her “Almost God” piece. she has this crazy ability to get into a character’s psyche and write it in such an insightful way. like. my pea brain can’t wrap my head around it; just check out “Almost God” to get my point.

Vanya’s also a huge advocate for recognizing and protecting content creators’ work on this platform. she’s a godsend, I love her and her ruthlessness, but she’s also incredibly kind and I have sosososo much respect for her!

@storiesthatneedtobewritten | multi-fandom

favorite piece: pining | ryuji sakamoto (p5)

Emmy!!! my love. Emmy is a literal machine, she’s amazing at coming up with such fun headcanons on the fly. hence, she’s always interacting with her followers! she plays so many ask games and it’s always a blast bouncing off of her and her big brain. her blog is different form these in that she focuses more on short n’ sweet content, and if you’re looking for that kind of stuff, look no further!!

also? also. Emmy is literally one of the kindest and most patient people I’ve met on here. her blog makes me feel like I’m in a swanky cafe / library, and she’s the barista giving me personalized content.

@bigwriterenergy | multi-fandom, 18+

favorite piece: kissing as a distraction | bruno bucciarati, giorno giovanna, guido mista (jjba)

fun fact, Goose’s writing is what actually motivated me to make this blog! they have SUCH a strong grasp on literally every character they write about. like, their headcanons tend to fair on the shorter side, and they make the most out of literally every word they lay out. I try to emulate that in my own work, so I take a lot of inspiration from them!

Goose is also in the midst of shifting to multi-fandom; be sure you support them as they do so!! it’s tough engaging a new audience and they deserve every damn person on this platform to read their work.

@moonbeamwritings | multi-fandom

favorite piece: realizations series | multiple (jjba, hq!!)

Maeve is an INCREDIBLE fluff writer, oh my GOD. she absolutely nails the pining part of relationships in her “Realizations” series. it’s bananas how well she can exemplify that shift from “haha we’re just 2 besties” to “oh lord I think I’m in love with his moron” and how those characters settle into those emotions. hence, she excels in writing actions and inner thoughts. it’s something I struggle with and she makes it look so easy!

Maeve is another writer who’s shifting to multi-fandom -- please go support her! she’s settling into Haikyuu!! as we speak, so if you’re interested in tender volleyball content, check her out.

@violettelueur | jjk

favorite piece: s/o with eczema | itadori yuji, megumi fushiguro

literally the Jujutsu Kaisen content queen herself. it’s unlikely you haven’t seen her pop up in the tags if you’re in this fandom, but my god does she deserve it. Violettelueur is another fluff writer who puts so much effort to make everyone feel included on her blog. like... my favorite piece, the “s/o with eczema” one, is such a niche topic (where my dry skin girls at make some noise!!!!) and yet. she tackled it nonetheless. I’m amazed with how much effort she puts into literally everything she writes, because good lord do I wish I had the drive she does.

Vio is currently taking a break from writing, but I highly recommend chilling out and having coffee with her (ie checking out her blog)! there’s a ton to content to skim through while you relax.

#thanks for popping by!#toya slides u a note #toya rambles #gr8 works by gr8 writers

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malfoys-demigod · 3 years

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"I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people”

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by @potatothingsz

-> Hiii! I am a big fan of you honestlyyy eee i have read almost every blog of yours (mainly dracos-) anyway! I was wondering if you are open for requests rn? If not totally understand! But if you are tho i hope i can request one? Its a draco x reader one the story goes that draco is fighting with (whatever guy in hp) the reason is that the random guy basically have a crush on you (y/n is dating draco) then draco gets arrogant about it then y/n hears it then they fight cuz of things draco said!Gb!

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this!

tag list @the--queen-of-hell @bbeauttyybbx

“And that’s how my parents met the headmaster of Ilvermorny School, all the way in America!” Pansy excitingly shared the news with you and Daphne by the Great Hall.

“How excellent, Pansy,” you said, interested in the conversation, “You should definitely tell your parents to bring you next time.”

“Oh my gosh,” Daphne said, sounding so surprised, “It’s only a week before holiday starts! Why don’t you ask them to spend the holidays with you over there? Wouldn’t an American holiday sound fantastic to you?”

“I second that,” you agreed, “Pansy, you would have the most exciting trip ever!”

Pansy liked the idea of spending the holidays in America, so she smiled, grinning as if it was a mischievous plan. “That is such a smart idea, who knows, I could return from the holiday’s with an American boyfriend!”

“You wish,” you teased, lightly nudging her shoulder.

Before Pansy could come back with a funny remark, Blaise bursted into the Great Hall, causing many eyes to look at him as he was running towards the three of you. He seemed terrified out of his life, as there was fear in his eyes, which was something you’ve barely seen from him. He was such a relaxed and reserved person most of the time, so acting like this without caring if people now paid attention to him was a first.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, huffing and puffing breath.

“What’s troubling you, Blaise?” you placed a hand on his hand, sounding deeply concerned.

He was still huffing and puffing when he said, “Malfoy. Fight. Outside. Now.”

It was like this new, uplifting energy came out of nowhere when you immediately stood up from the table and started dashing out of the Great Hall, along with your friends who followed behind.

There were so many thoughts madly entering your mind, swimming around and suggesting the most horrid reasons as to why Draco was involved in a fight. You were very much aware that he liked making dramatic debates and conversations with practically much everyone at school. But to make a huge scene that caused Blaise to briefly trouble you to stop what you were doing was something petrifying to experience.

Mindlessly, you made several turns around the castle, following Blaise, who had quickly followed your pace, guiding you to the crowd by the outskirts of the castle. It was by the balcony which gave a side perspective of the vast body of water which Viktor Krum and his school used to travel by ship.

It was about time when you were faced with your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, involving himself in a serious and intense magic and physical battle with Cormac McLaggen, a Gryffindor who was in the year above you.

They have seemed to be quite in focus with the fight, ignoring the crowd’s chants and cheers. Honestly, one thing to be quite disappointed in at some point were the people’s reactions and follow-ups when it came to witnessing fights. There were crowds that would stop and call for help, and there were crowds that would watch the fight as if it was pure entertainment.

You were given the crowd that would watch the fight as if it was pure entertainment, saldy.

Since there was so much going through your mind, without thinking, you jumped into the middle of the fight, hoping you wouldn’t be hit with a spell or a fist fight.

“Enough!” you yelled, raising both your hands to the side, for both opponents to see. They terrifyingly lowered their wands, looking around the crowd, agitated with the eyes around them.

Once they had your attention, you angrily heaved a breath out of your system, which resulted from the start of a massive headache. You heatedly walked to the side your boyfriend was standing by and threw out your hands hysterically.

“What the bloody hell is going on, Draco!”

He did not reply, as he remained silent. He began looking down at the ground with disappointment and struggle in his face, realizing the damage he had placed himself. He was breathing in and out, holding his wand tightly with such distress in his grip.

You absolutely did not have the luxury to receive more silent treatment from him, for you were enraged and impatient with the silence. You rolled your eyes with such fury, “Explain, dammit!”

From the other side of the paused, rather ended battle, Cormac showed a condoling facial expression, which made him slowly walk to the other side, where you and Draco were standing by. He placed a hand on your shoulder, which caused you to briskly turn around.

He then placed a hand on his chest and said, “I believe I am at fault, Y/N.” he suggested, “He must have overheard me telling my friends how I fancied you and got distressed about it. I should have tried to reason with him more because if I did, we wouldn’t have had this fight. I’m sorry.”

You felt pity for Cormac, which caused you to shake your head in disagreement. ‘No,’ you mouthed to him. Disappointed in Draco, you sighed with such upset in your voice that when you turned to him with such a let down on your face, you said, “Bloody hell, Draco, he was the slightest threat you have encountered in your life. You are a foolish person for wanting to start a fight which is considered by everyone with the right mind to be useless. Damn you, Draco.”

Draco stressly placed the palms of his hands on his temples, placing pressure on it, “Y/N, I saw him as a potential threat to our relationship. I thought showing him that you were mine would be able to keep him from destroying our relationship, what we have together!”

You disgracefully shook your head upon hearing the madness he called for an excuse. “Unbelievable, Draco.” You looked back to Cormac with a sympathetic look on your face, “First of all Cormac, you are not at fault here,” which he gave a small, hesitant nod as response.

Then you pathetically turned back to Draco, “As for you, Draco Malfoy, you are in every way in the wrong. You’re the one who destroyed our relationship. That was certainly not the way to show him that I was yours. This made me rethink if the need to do that was even necessary! How could you possibly see him as a threat when you know I’m in love with you? I guess this is a lesson in not trusting your significant other, right? Because it seems like I guess I’ve never been a trustworthy person, especially concerning what we have together.”

Draco rolled his head in frustration and annoyance. He scoffed, “Please, don’t say that Y/N, you’re making me seem like the bad person here.”

You scoffed back, but with much anger, “But you are,” you coldy replied. Without thinking, you announced, “Consider us on a break, Draco Malfoy. Don’t bother owling me during the holidays. It’ll be nothing but a waste of parchments on your end.”

Finished with the debate you had with Draco, you gracefully turned around and placed a hand on Cormac’s shoulder, “Very sorry, Cormac. I still hope you have a lovely holiday despite this.” With a small nod from the older boy, it was your cue.

You turned around, walking away from the scene without thinking of the glares and whispers surrounding you. They were nothing but an audience with no respect whatsoever. Gossip all they want, they’ve got the scoop anyways.

—

You walked among the glaring eyes around you, trying to find a suitable cart to occupy. Surely in most situations, you would be happy to sit anywhere. But many would be really uncomfortable to be sitting around the talk of the town, which meant that they couldn’t use you as a conversation starter while they commuted back to the platform.

Thank goodness for Pansy and Daphne, who you found, securing you an empty cart amidst many occupied and packed carts between yours.

“Hey, Y/N,” Pansy warmly greeted you, helping you place your bags up on the rack.

“I got it thanks,” you told her, pushing your bags with strength.

You plopped down, sitting between the two girls, who looked like they weren’t sure of what to talk about since the travel back to the platform would take awhile. Daphne was playing with her fingers, while Pansy was trying to get Daphne to look up and mouth a conversation.

These girls were the absolute worst in trying to make things discreet but they happened to be attempting to converse with you in the most normal way, without thinking of bringing up anything Draco related.

“Anytime this week would be lovely, girls.”

“Wh-what?” Pansy let out an exposed laugh, “What do you possibly mean, Y/N?”

“Come on,” you rolled your head, “Can’t think of making things normal without happening to mention or bring up Draco and my whole outburst in school?”

You checked the two girls, who were cheekily smiling with such guilt on their faces. You chuckled, standing up to move to the other side of the cart, to sit, facing in front of them.

“You two are the silliest,” you crossed your arms with a comfortable look on your face, “I’m not made out of glass, fools. Come on, the worst things could happen to me.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Daphne cooled down, sighing a relief, “We were just being extra concerned that’s all.”

“And of course…” Pansy seemed to have a hard time continuing the sentence for a second as she tilted her head, mumbling the name ‘Draco’, as she continued, “Most likely isn’t taking it well. We haven’t seen or checked up on him, just to let you know!” she promised, waving her arms out, hoping you wouldn’t bust.

Daphne nudged Pansy’s shoulder, looking at her with an angry look, “You said you wouldn’t mention him! The hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? She said it was alright!” Pansy revolted in annoyance.

“Take it easy, you two,” you warned them. “You two are making things even more weird, and I’m just sitting here telling you not to look at me as fragile!”

“Right, sorry,” they both said embarrassingly.

“I just want to let you two know that this whole holiday of mine will be definitely a time for me to invigorate and rejuvenate on my everyday perspectives. I do not know what my parents have in store for this holiday but either way, I am going to throw this whole year away and focus on building for next year, especially when we come back from holiday.”

“That’s brilliant, Y/N! How magnificent, we will definitely be there to support you through owling you every day.”

You sorrily tilted your head with an open mouth, “Well I’m going to have to ask you the same I warned Draco about.”

“You’re saving us from wasting parchment.”

“I’m sorry, I just think, in order to focus on fixing myself, I-”

“Hey,” Pansy said, as both her and Daphne switched to the other side to sit beside you, “We get it, Y/N and we cannot wait to see you once the break ends.”

“One last group hug before we go our separate ways for a little while?”

In the cart that Draco occupied, it was a whole different energy.

During the first part of the ride back to the platform, Draco did not care about searching for an empty cart, or relying on friends. All he did was present a short, cold glare in front of first years, who willingly stood up and rushed out, forgetting that they were about to give away their seats to a couple of older Slytherins.

“Slow gits,” Draco muttered, swimming in his way into the cart as he threw his bag up into the rack without care and depressingly jumped on the seat by the view, which he used to ponder and stare with such a sigh coming from his mouth.

“Chill down mate,” Blaise had the guts, kindly warning his friend, who he sat beside.

Blaise was surprised when Draco calmly replied with, “Whatever, Zabini. I’m calm.”

Given this, he decided to take the advantage and reason out with him. He moved around his seat, trying to shift somewhat nearer to him. “You clearly aren’t. I reckon it’s going to rain over your whole holiday at home.”

“It won’t.” Draco gritted his teeth.

Blaise clasped his hands, shaking his head once, “How do you personally feel about the whole situation, mate?”

Draco looked at him with sore eyes and quickly jumped and leaned exaggeratingly, “Me? Personally? I-” then he turned his body around, facing the entire wall with the window, “Forget it. I don’t have time for this girl-talk.”

There was a small suggestion of fear in your mind because there was always a possibility of bumping into Draco thanks to the many gatherings your parents were invited to. It would have been extremely discomposing to see the boy you had called ‘breaks’ on before the holiday started. It would make things more complicated to remember that there were more adults than children in these parties, making it more difficult to find people to converse with.

Luckily, your parents surprisingly cancelled their parties, wanting to spend time with you more. They weren’t cruel or always self-centered, but they were very social when it came to gatherings and mingling with other wizards. So, hearing about this really felt like Merlin was on your side this year.

With the opportunity to tune out from the outside world, staying at home really made things easier to recollect yourself in these struggling times.

There was absolutely no distraction from anyone, giving you time to think about Draco.

It may have been advantageous to give yourself a break from the relationship. Draco, as you obviously know, can be very outspoken. He is the kind of person who wouldn’t be scared to speak up and share his thoughts in any way possible.

He was a head-strong person, the kind of guy that would really go out of his way to execute whatever he felt like doing.

What he did for you was… out of hand yes, but when you think about it, he was thinking about you. As a person who isn’t afraid of fighting for honor and the truth, he just couldn’t help himself and protect your relationship.

Maybe he could have thought things through and settled his issue with Cormac in a more lighter attempt, but if you step into his shoes, you were being Draco Malfoy. He did not want to use the luxury of time and think things through. He was the person who would do it before thinking.

Plus, he may or may not have anger issues, especially when it came to other boys concerning you. A simple talk about you behind his back would really be an issue for him. The least mess he can do is brag about you if they decided to talk about you when he’s nearby.

Huh, you actually chuckled at that last thought. Whether what Draco did was right or wrong, he did love you and what he did was for you. Maybe you were a bit harsh on him, but that’s the thing, all of these trace back to love.

Maybe you thought that he didn’t trust you enough, maybe you were just blinded by so many things.

It was probably right to give Draco another chance when the holiday ended.

When it did, you had a clear conscience as you were making your way back into one of your favorite places: The Slytherin Common Room. Nothing felt like home than going back to the best common room ever. The weather was still cool, so being around the fireplace was a great idea to warm up.

Someone had already beaten you to it, though. Walking past with your luggage, your eyes darted towards a platinum blonde hair, resting by the cushions of the sofa by the fireplace. Being curious, you slowly brought your luggage with you, calmly walking towards the sofa. You peeked in, seeing a sleeping Draco Malfoy.

He seemed to look extremely comfortable with himself. He was wearing a green jumper with a cup of hot chocolate by the coffee table. Had he stayed here all along throughout the holiday?

To answer your question, Draco’s eyes suddenly fluttered open. His grey eyes were looking at the ceiling for a minute. Still standing there, his eyes now moved towards you. You could see the extreme tiredness in his eyes. A lot could be said by his eyes, aside from tiredness.

There were dark circles surrounding his eyes. They could be as dark as half-wahed eyeliner kind of dark. It was awful, he must have shed bitter tears that went on for hours. You could see a hint of pink in his eyes, meaning he did recently cry.

The two of you had a staring contest, as Draco continued looking at you, but as if you were just a dream. You could tell by the way his eyes were narrow, looking half-asleep. You decided that it was time to break the staring contest and be the first to take action.

To test if he was half-asleep, you dropped your luggage, creating a big ‘thug’ sound, and moved around the sofa, to which he responded by having his eyes follow you. You made your final stop when you stood in front of the ends of the sofa, where his feet were dangling off.

To your surprise, he lifted his feet, wanting you to sit on the sofa. You didn’t want to keep him waiting, so you quickly sat yourself on the sofa, having his feet, covered in green and red socks rest on your lap. Your eyes moved from the color of his socks to his grey eyes, as he was still looking at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing a hand on his ankle. You held on his ankle, tightening your grip as you looked at him with sympathy. You looked down immediately, feeling embarrassed and uneasy.

Draco sat up rapidly, removing his feet from your lap as he decided to place himself sitting beside you. His lower body was facing the fireplace, but his upper body was twisted, looking at you with full attention.

He placed his finger on your chin, causing you to look at his worn-out, grey eyes. “No,” he shook his head, “Merlin knows that it should be me saying that. You know that.”

His soft, post-crying voice wanted to melt or shatter your heart, making you frown in front of him. “What I do know is that I went too far in scolding you. It was wrong of me.”

“The amount of scolding was enough for me to realize the immature actions and misfortunes that I have caused. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to realize how much of a childish git I am.” He took your hands slowly, bringing them to him with such a feeling in his heart. “I can’t ask you to forgive me because I’m embarrassed of myself. You deserve so much more than what I offer as a partner. Please do whatever you think is right for yourself before hearts shatter even more.”

Your heart felt like dropping from the sky, collapsing in a pool full of sorrow after hearing those words come out of Draco’s mouth. Was he allowing you to break up with him? What could he possibly mean? There was absolutely no way he could let you do that. He was being out of his mind.

You let go of him holding your hands, to which his eyes widened to, only for you to wrap yourself around him, tightly and strongly embracing him with such love in your body. “Are you out of your mind? We can get through this, Draco. Leaving you after this would show that our love for each other would never be strong as I hoped to imagine. I’m staying with you because we have so much in store for each other. This is merely a minor bump in this journey you and I walk on.”

You could feel Draco let out a small sob from his eyes as he hugged you back, trying to squeeze and restrain himself from continuing to cry even more. “I love you.” was what he tried muttering without sounding like he was going to break down.

You nodded, wanting to join his crying session should he stop holding himself from. “I love you more than you know it.”

He slowly pulled himself from you, looking away from you. He stood up, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“What’s the matter?”

“I know you said I’d be wasting parchments,” he replied, removing something from his sling bag, which was by the other end of the sofa, “But I wrote you letters that I ended up keeping during the holiday.”

He brought back with him a thick load of envelopes, ribboned with a green ribbon. He looked at you with a warm smile and handed it to you, “I give you the honor of burning it.”

You scoffed, “Burn it? I’d love to see what you were yearning for while you wrote this.” you teased him.

Draco felt a hint of embarrassment in his eyes as he tried grabbing it back from you. You sneakily pulled it away from him, “Uh, uh, uh” you waved your finger.

Draco smirked, jumping on you as he continued to attempt getting the letters from you. This caused the both of you to fall from the sofa and the day continued as the two of you fought on the ground, trying to play like childish children, ignoring the other students arriving in the common room.

Looks like news would spread that love is in the air again as the power couple is back on track with their relationship.

365 notes · View notes

stark-tony · 3 years

Text

underrated irondad and spiderson fic recs part 1

Men's Synch 3m Platform by loudestfandomsoftheworld

summary: or 5 times Peter Parker goes dumpster diving, and one time he does something else... " “You took my nephew dumpster diving?” Ben asked incredulously.

His wife stood tall with a toddler strapped to her chest, tugging at one end of a couch with all her might. “I did not,”

“Twash!” Peter yelled."

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

do you even remember what the world looks like? by iron_spider

summary: Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Empty Casket by Jen27ny

summary: After the Vulture, Tony should have known better.

He should have listened to Peter.

But he didn’t.

And now, Peter is dead.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Patient #2252 by TheSoulOfAStrawberry

summary: When a warehouse comes down on Spider-Man’s head and leaves him with a brain injury, Queens social worker Bianca Browne and Dr Grace Li of NY-Presbytarian Hospital find themselves racing the NYPD to uncover Spidey’s identity and get him help before he can be charged with a litany of crimes.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: police brutality

That's why they call me mr. fahrenheit by SparrowFlight246

summary: Peter’s on fire.

He wakes up fast, and before he even gets the chance to feel the pain, the aches, the dizziness, he feels the heat. It’s all encompassing, a raging inferno blooming from within him and burning him up from the inside out, and god, it—

—god, it hurts.

Peter gets whammied by a 24-hour superbug, and Tony’s left to keep him alive until tomorrow morning.

It sounds a hell of a lot easier than it ends up being.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

not like megatron by iron_spider

summary: “Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none

Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater by frostysunflowers

summary: ''Dying.''

''You’re not dying.''

''Totally am.'

'''God, I hope not, otherwise May will skin me alive.''

A weekend visit to the cabin doesn't go according to plan.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, humor

warnings: none

an irondad's misguided approach to homesickness by livingtheobsessedlife

summary: Peter mentions it once. Once. That he’s maybe kinda sorta vaguely somewhat homesick. MIT is no Queens, that’s all really. All in all, Pete’s having a great time at college. Really, truly.

The thing is that Tony’s never really taken the whole ‘only mentioning it once’ thing all that well. Not when it comes to Peter at least.

This time is no exception.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

you held your pride like you should have held me by searchingforstars

summary: “I had to take the risk!” Peter snaps. “I saved your life.”

Tony’s stare hardens. “Yeah, and nearly ended your goddamn own. This isn’t a trade-off. It wasn’t your call to make.”

“You would have done the same thing to protect me,” Peter points out. Tony just seethes at the statement.

“I don’t care about what you think I would have done. You are not me. And I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself."

or, as the timer ticked down, Peter knew his only option was to take things into his own hands. He just didn’t expect Tony to be mad at him for saving his life.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

always on duty by parkrstark

summary: Peter manages to convince Tony to take him to a gala, but when Tony is hurt, he realizes that it's just as dangerous to be Tony Stark as it is to be Iron Man.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, humor

warnings: none

Out of Left Field by blondsak, seekrest

summary: Even if Tony didn’t end up becoming a big fan of the Mets, Peter knew they’d still have a great time at the game. And the fact that Tony wanted to go with Peter badly enough to make it clear that he should buy a pair of tickets as a birthday gift?

Peter shakes his head fondly.

Maybe for once the month of May was going to work out for him after all.

pairings: spideychelle

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

three weeks, two days, seven hours by crowkag

summary: It was a mess. A real mess. Peter had been gone for three weeks, two days, and seven hours, taken right out from under their noses.

And Tony was laying on the floor.

(AKA “you’ll always get there first”, but from Tony’s POV.)

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings:

for as long as i live and as long as i love (i will never not think about you) by searchingforstars

summary: When Tony first started to forget things, Peter thought maybe it was just age. People’s memories fade as they get older, right? Minds get weaker. It’s just natural.

But Tony has arguably the sharpest mind of the 21st century. Peter should have realised that it was never going to be just getting weaker. It was never going to be just age.

No - not when the sharpest mind of the 21st century also happened to come into contact with the deadliest amount of gamma radiation known to man five years ago.

or, Tony’s sacrifice is still haunting them five years later. Peter has to come to terms with the fact that Tony’s memory is fading.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

a dream is a wish by floweryfran

summary: Tony seems to panic for a moment, shifting his weight foot to foot, before spitting out in one mouthful, “I have a business trip in Florida right before your spring break and I talked to May and she says I can bring you to Disney for the week once it’s done ahhh.” He then breathes, grins plastically, and holds his hands out, like, I’m Tony Stark, hold your applause.

Peter runs the words through his head no less than three times to make sure he had understood them properly. “Disney—you and me—spring break?” he repeats.

Tony nods, hair flopping. “I mean, like, don’t feel obligated to say yes, but I thought it would be fun since May says you’ve never gone and she would’ve been working for your whole break anyway, y’know, at least this way we won’t be worrying about you sitting home alone for hours doing G-d only knows what—building accidental robot armies or something, or, worse, becoming a couch potato and forgetting every bit of knowledge I’ve ever carefully placed in that rat trap you call a brain—”

“Tony,” Peter says, waving his hands to shut Tony up. Something warm sits in the core of his chest, hovering. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, yeah, for sure, let’s—Disney. Let’s go. Wow.”

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Of birthday cake and millennium falcons by frostysunflowers

summary: "You still haven’t answered my question," MJ says, taking another sip of her juice.

"Isn’t it obvious?" Tony replies, scratching at one of the scars on his neck with the end of a screwdriver. "It’s Ben’s birthday."

"And Ben’s birthday warrants a…" MJ waves a hand vaguely, "what the hell is that thing anyway?"

Tony has no self control when it comes to birthday parties and his grandson.

pairings: spideychelle

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what i have, i give to you by aatticsaltt

summary: Tony would give everything to Peter Parker, if he asked for it. When May calls telling Tony she thinks Peter isn't feeling well, he drops everything to go check up on his favorite spider kid.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Smile! by aatticsaltt

summary: Taking Peter to Disney World was one of Tony's better ideas.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

and when it's hard, i'll place your head into my hands by hopeless_hope

summary: “Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none

Of Wally-Crawly Harnesses and Over-Enthusiastic Hat-Bestowing Capabilities by TheOceanIsMyInkwell

summary: Tony raises a brow at him in triumph, then sniffs and rubs the side of his nose. “Besides, think of it this way. Now you got a bullet-proof neck.”

“Nobody would even shoot a sad-looking orphan bundled like a spring roll in Red Heart yarn,” Peter points out. “That’s just low.”

“Excuse me, young buck, I resent the implication that I would let Red Heart come within an inch of your skin.”

“You’re insufferable,” Peter says flatly. “I hate you.”

“And just for that, I think this calls for those wool socks I was working on,” Tony says brightly.

“No--no, wait--”

“It’s time to learn that your consequences have actions, Parker--”

“Wait, wait, I love your knitting, I think it’s super healthy and fulfilling and honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to you since you retired!” Peter hollers at the man’s figure as it retreats quickly down the hallway. -- After Peter faints into hibernation because he can't thermoregulate, Tony isn't taking anymore chances. Out come the wool skeins and the knitting needles.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

how do you sandwich!? by killerqueenwrites

summary: “Why are you buttering toast before you toast it?

”“I’m not toasting this.”

“Then what are you doing?” Peter demands.

“I’m making a sandwich.”

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

What I Can't Live Without by aatticsaltt

summary: Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. Heavy lies the heart of the father who has to watch his son bow beneath the weight of the world.

or: When Peter calls Happy needing a ride out of the Netherlands, it's Tony who comes to the rescue.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Tales from Quarantine by just_a_hungry_author

summary: Peter, Morgan, and Tony are all stuck inside during the Coronavirus quarantine. Morgan learns to play Monopoly, Tony struggles to help with 1st grade math, and a prank war ensues.

God, this is the longest two weeks ever.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

if we have each other by ftmpeter

summary: "Do you ever just, like, feel like you’re upside down?"

"You are upside down, Pete."

"Sounds fake."

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

What Happens in the Blanket Fort Stays in the Blanket Fort by TheOceanIsMyInkwell

summary: “Well, I was gonna discuss with May some legal particulars about changes to my will that involve you,” Tony drawls, “but looks like I’ll just have to change my plans.”

There’s a beat. And then a yodel: “I’m just a poor boy, I need--”

“If not for this goddamn quarantine, I’d be there in a flash to shut you up myself, Spidey-Tighties.”

“You made these ‘tights’.”

“Funsie-onesie.”

“Mr. Stark.”

“Cooty-footies.”

“Mr. Stark. I’m begging you. What does that even mean.” -- Tony comes over to keep Peter company during the quarantine while the kid waits for May to come home from work at the hospital. Bants are had. Feelings are spilled. And maybe, just maybe, a hug or two is shared.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

On his Shoulders by snarkymuch

summary: “Please, please,” Tony begged, “Keep breathing, kid. Don’t do this to me. You can’t leave me like this.” The morning started like any other for Tony. He kissed Pepper good morning and sipped his coffee. He scanned his emails and chatted with Pepper about the vacation they were always planning but never took. The calm should have been a warning, as the storm always followed.

Peter and Tony get trapped in a building collapse and Peter is gravely injured.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

coronapocalypse by peterstank

summary: “This whole quarantine thing shouldn’t even apply to me.”

“Uh, I beg to differ, it’s very serious,” replies Tony’s voice, slightly muffled like he’s got his phone pressed between his shoulder and chin. “We’re all on lockdown, which means no leaving your place unless it’s for emergencies.”

“And what qualifies as an emergency?”

There’s a pause.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not in your apartment?”

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

Little White Lies by snarkymuch

summary: Peter gets injured and tries to treat it himself, hiding it from Tony, but he can't keep it hidden forever.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Peter Parker and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Semester by just_a_hungry_author

summary: "So tell me, Kid." Tony said, patting the space next to him. "What's been going on?"

"Nothing's been going on." Peter denied, but he sat down anyway.

"Pete, don't bottle your emotions up. Only I'm allowed to do that."

When Peter again didn't smile at his joke, Tony continued. "I know you're stressed, Bud. But tell me why so I can help you."

"It's nothing you can help." Peter mumbled.

"Can I at least try?"

"I've just been having a bad week."

OR: Peter’s been having a rough time at college, Tony tries to jump in and help. 3000 words of pure fluff.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Windy Webs by silentsaebyeok

summary: And that was it. He was officially an idiot. Peter didn’t mean to be dramatic, but this was one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to him, even if there was no one around to witness the fall of the century. -- Peter goes web-slinging in dangerous weather and gets seriously injured. It doesn't help that he has to spend the whole summer living with the consequences.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Peter gets the chickenpox by snarkymuch

summary: Peter and Morgan both catch the chickenpox. Morgan's case is mild, but Peter's is severe. Tony takes care of them both.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none

#irondad and spiderson #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #my fic recs #police brutality tw

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infjsnightmare · 3 years

Text

This will be chapter one of the Fyodor×female!SO amnesia fic that I am working on. I haven't posted a fanfic in who knows how long so the quality is probably on the poor side. Any feedback is appreciated! I'm hoping to continue this, but it will probably be on the back burner of my schedule. I also am not used to tumblrs platform, so any advice for formatting would be greatly encouraged. I'm not adding character tags to this since I don't want it to clog up the fandom, but if you end up liking it and would like me to tag you in future updates, don't hesitate to ask. Anyways, I think that's about all in the way of introductions!

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

She glanced over at the dark-haired man as he worked, yet again, into the early hours of the morning. The pale blue of his various monitors was the only thing to illuminate his snow-white skin. His tired eyes barely blinking as they scanned the database in front of him while his long slender fingers danced along the keyboard. She sighed knowing that arguing his work schedule would prove futile. In all the years she'd known the man, he would never put himself before his cause, even for a few hours of needed rest. Still, she wouldn't sit well with herself without at least a half-hearted attempt.

"Fedya", the shorter woman lightly placed a scarred hand on the back of his swiveling desk chair, "you'll never create a promised land without proper sleep." Her tone was sharp and came out as an order as opposed to a suggestion. The woman winced upon realizing her terse composition, a remnant of her time as a child soldier. "Hmm?" The man hummed his response, inflection rising as a question. He was being gracious with her, giving her a chance to correct herself. There was no doubt he had heard what she said, but this was a mercy he spared for only her. "I mean to say, that your promised land will wait for you, but I worry that your health may not," She turned his chair to face her, pleading eyes betraying her stoic expression. "Please come to bed." Her eyes were always a point of weakness for the Russian. Her straight posture, tight jaw and tense shoulders could never take away from the pure wealth of emotion her eyes gave away. "This is important work," Fyodor began as he already saw those precious eyes relax in resignation. So, she was fully prepared for him to reject her offer. Noticing the puff of air she let slip, he decided that perhaps he had been too persistent in his goals the past few days. He tilted his head thoughtfully, stray black hairs like a silk spider's web swaying over his crimson orbs. "But, since Decay of Angels will be moving into its next phase soon, it couldn't hurt to prepare myself and rest." He punctuated his decision with a soft smile, grabbing her hand from the chair to lead her to bed. Eyes widened the faintest amount, the only hint of shock she portrayed. "Thank you, sir." She nodded while examining his pale elegant hand in her much rougher calloused digits.

Everything about him spoke of grace. An angel among men, with the unfortunate disposition of a demon. But that's what she admired in him. When they met all those years ago, her rifle placed directly at his temple. Even then, she couldn't fathom the young man in front of her leading such a dangerous life. But, when their eyes met, he had just chuckled lightly, grabbing the barrel. "Would you like to see this world burn?" All it took was one question from his lips and she knew she would follow him to the depths of hell. Being a soldier, recruited for her ability that never let her miss a mark, forced to kill from such a young age, the world to her was a pile of rubble, but this man, this god, would show her paradise. When she stared back into his eyes, she knew it was the truth. That was the day she left the Russian Special Ops. That was the day she massacred the rest of her division and escaped. That was the day she vowed her body and mind to Fyodor. At the time, she believed she no longer had a heart and so it was not something she could offer, but now, looking up at his tired profile, feeling that tightness in her chest, realized that he already possessed it.

She followed him wordlessly through the corridors until they came to their shared bedroom. Her hands moved to his shoulders, lightly massaging his exhausted body, while removing his jacket. "What is it that's on your mind, Milaya?" The deep voice disrupting her thoughts. "I was just thinking of all we've been through. I truly would do anything for you, Fedya." She stared straight into his eyes, and any lesser man would've cowered under her gaze. Instead, he let out an airy chuckle "You say such sweet things as though you are about to kill a man." An amused smile played at his lips while tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "If all goes according to plan, there shouldn't be much for you to do in any case." Fyodor dismissed the though with a wave of his hand as he dropped to the bed, all his muscles giving in to the plush bed and warm blankets. "If all goes according to plan, you'll be tucked away in a cell in Europe." She smirked playfully pushing him until his head hit the pillow. Her smile faltered briefly at the thought of how far away he would be. Sure, he'd been gone on missions before, but she always knew when to expect him back. This time was different. This time relied on the other members of the organization to play their part.

"And if I'm captured? I've heard that there are abilities that could extract information about you from me. Similar to Sigma." Her brows furrowed as she continued "I've been thinking a lot and I believe that if I am to be found, I will need to forget you.... to protect you." She finished and looked up at him, seeing the faintest trace of worry etched in his face. "Don't be ridiculous. It will never come to that." His voice was even, though his agitation was apparent to her trained eye. "Now isn't the time to discuss such matters." She nodded in agreement. "You're right, you need to rest. We'll talk about this in the morning." She wrapped herself around him, laying her head on the space between his shoulder and chest. He rolled his eyes at the prospect of continuing this discussion at any point in time but planted a chaste kiss to her temple regardless, as they both drifted off to sleep.

The warm smell of steeping Lady Grey roused the young woman from her slumber as she blearily rubbed at her eyes. Sleeping next to Fyodor was the only way for her body to relax as she rested. She knew that she was safe. Her training had taught her to always be on alert and for a long time she could have awaken at the drop of a pin. But, whenever she slept with him next to her, she would wake to find him already dressed for the day, tea on the bedside table and she would not have the faintest inkling of how long she must have slept through his routine. "Good morning." Fyodor's voice sounded like honey to her as he traced a gloved finger underneath her jaw. She lazily scanned the room before her eyes settled on his form sitting next to her bedside. "Good morning, Fedya. How long have you been sitting there?" Pressing her cheek lightly against his hand before straightening her posture, slowly reverting to her tense state of being. The raven haired man smiled watching the remnants of his dazed princess slip away into the strict stance of his loyal soldier. "Not long." He gave a quick reply, his façade nearly perfectly covering the truth. He'd been watching her for about 32 minutes at this point, memorizing her rhythmic breathing and the delicate parting of her lips. He wracked his brain for every possible scenario of how last night's conversation would play out this morning and every route led him to the same conclusion: he wasn't going to change her mind. She was his soldier after all and she was loyal to a fault. If she believed her own mind could put him in danger, then she would destroy it. If she believed her love for him would put him in danger, then she would let go of her own heart.

"Milaya, I-" "You've already deciphered how this conversation ends, haven't you?" She cut him off before he could even start. The way his eyebrows slightly contorted on his soft features relayed his worry. He must have been recalling last night and she knew if she gave him too much room to talk, there was a chance his silver tongue could change her mind. "I have." Lowered voice, clipped. He was unhappy with her decision, but he wasn't going to waste time arguing around a pre-determined outcome. Maybe he could change her mind, but not without manipulating some aspect of their conversation, not without toying with her emotions and using her like a pawn. He frowned bitterly at the thought. She was a queen in his chest set and he could never allow her to be set like a pawn. A queen was always there to defend the king, roaming the board freely, but always returning back by his side. Against the odds, he would have to trust that she would do just that. That if she were to throw away their past, throw away her memories, that she would still find him again and return to his side.

A squeezing pressure against his hand brought him back out of his own head as she gripped his hand with hers. “I promise you, I will return to you. We will stand together in the new world. Just promise me, no matter how long it may take, that you will wait for me?” The sincerity held in her eyes shown brightly before him. Not just sincerity, but something else. Love. The most basic and most complicated on the spectrum of human emotions. It had the ability to make weak men strong. To make strong men crumble. To make a feeble man think. And to make even the most genius of men fall into stupidity. And here he was, staring into the eyes of the only being he gave merit to, stupidly agreeing to let her follow through with her plan. He stared into her eyes with such intensity she was sure that her soul was bared naked before him as he made his promise. “ya obeshchayu tebe, moya lyubov.” The air in the room hung heavy, and it almost seemed as if time had stopped as the pair gazed, entranced by one another. She felt her jaw clench and tighten with an emotion she wasn’t sure how to name, lost somewhere between heartache and contentment. “Thank you, Fedya.” Standing abruptly, she wrapped her strong arms around his slender frame, face pressed firmly into his chest. A rare display of raw emotion from the woman, fighting her natural composure. It was only in these moments, just the two of them, that she could be this weak. It was only times when they were alone, that he could allow himself to be this warm. And, as much as the lovers could wish that time had actually stopped, it would continue on regardless. “Of course, that is only in the event that I even be captured.” She straightened, fixing herself with a quiet confidence. “I never miss a target. I would never be taken easily.” Her expression remained void of any defining emotion, but her eyes held the credence and self-assurance that a soldier of her caliber is sure to possess. “Good.” The simply reply held the acknowledge of her skill and all the weight of an order. The implication that she would raise hell and only enact this contingency plan as a last resort was not lost on her. Cool lips brushed delicately over hers in a chaste kiss, faint and fleeting as though it were a ghost. Her lips were warm like fire against his as she chased the kiss adding the slightest pressure. The pair exchanged one last fervent glance before regaining their aloof composure and exiting to continue their work.

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

Text

Dances and Daggers

Summary: The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 18: The End

Previous Chapter |

Word Count: 1,793

A/N: Oh my goodness, we're here. We're at the last chapter. I can't believe it. Thank you all so much for reading and liking and commenting-- you've all made the last seventeen weeks absolutely wonderful, and I'm so grateful :)

TW: Mentions of violence, child abuse, description of a dead body

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy @whatafuckingdumbass @sophlubbwriting

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

The Winter Festival was in full swing. Teki surveyed the crowd from her place on the royal platform. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable sitting so high above everyone else, but the spot wasn’t anywhere near as unnerving as she had first found it. Besides her, Brant munched contentedly on the meat she had chopped into tiny pieces for him. In the beginning, he had been so frightened of sitting atop the podium that he was afraid to even ask her to cut his food, but after several months he had grown quite at ease with the whole thing.

“Teki!” he’d whisper excitedly, pulling on her sleeve. ”You can see everyone in the hall from here!”

She couldn’t help but grin.

On her other side, Loki grasped her hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

Teki returned his eager smile. “Of course!”

People parted for them as he led her through the crowd, the skirt of her emerald dress billowing around her legs, a silky cloud of green. Loki’s dagger hung at her hip. She had been wearing it every night as of late. It brought a strange sort of tranquility to feel it at her side, something that she hadn’t thought was every possible. It had been hard to look at it at first, to hold it in her hands and know that it had allowed her to take a life. Osvald’s blank stare haunted her whenever she closed her eyes.

But … there was something powerful in it as well, something she couldn’t quite explain. For so long, she had been this helpless little girl who kept her head down and hands clasped in her lap, whose only defense had ever been to close her eyes and hope for the danger to pass, but now … she wasn’t. Everyone knew about her now, not as the fiancé to a prince who held no interest in her, but as a survivor who vanquished the monster who murdered her father. It was an odd feeling. Teki had never expected to command respect of any kind from her fellow Asgardians—even with a future as queen she had always known that she’d exist only in Thor’s shadow—but now, people bowed their heads when she passed.

Loki pulled her on to the dance floor with a twirl, grinning as her dress fanned out around her. Teki giggled.

“Remember the first time you asked me to dance?” she asked suddenly. It seemed eons ago that he had first found her crying on the balcony, and yet somehow it had only been less than a year.

The prince nodded. “I was so nervous,” he confided as he held her closer to him.

Teki laughed incredulously. “You were nervous!”

“I was!” he insisted. “You seemed so sad. I wanted to make you feel better, but I was afraid I was only making things worse.” He paused. “And you were meant for Thor, so I wasn’t certain I’d even be welcome.”

She sighed. That seemed eons ago too—a time where Loki didn’t know her better than she knew herself.

“Well,” she mumbled, cheeks burning. “You’re always welcome.”

He laughed. “Good to know.”

Teki laughed as well, but she hoped he knew how true her words were. She didn’t know what she would have done without Loki these past few months. He had been by her side throughout all the insanity that had followed her mother’s arrest and her stepfather’s demise, whether it was something as grand as testifying before the court that Osvald was killed in self-defense or as simple as sitting next to her at her piano as she played the first few lines of the piece she was composing herself.

He had been with her when she received word that they had found what they believed to be her father’s skeletal remains. Her mother’s confession had included the details of where and how Steinn’s body had been disposed of, down to the gory details that Teki had never wanted to know, how they dismembered him so Osvald could sneak him off world in a rugsack and bury him on Alfheim. Teki’s only attempt to read through the whole thing had ended with her coughing up her breakfast into a chamber pot.

But thanks to Áslaug’s description, they knew where to look, and within a fortnight they found him. Peeling back that blanket to look at her father’s remains had been an experience she couldn’t quite describe. The two felt so disconnected—how could a man so larger than life who she could picture so clearly in her memory be reduced to nothing but a box of dusty bones? For several hours, all she felt was numbness. It wasn’t until late that night that the reality truly struck her. Brant stumbled into her room to find hunched over on her bed, sobbing ferociously into her pillowcase.

They held a funeral for him. It was nothing elaborate, there wasn’t a big production or a huge crowd in attendance, but it was something. Teki didn’t know the next thing about archery, so instead of shooting a flaming arrow, she lit his pyre with a torch before sending it across the water. They probably could’ve gotten a professional archer for it—Loki had offered to shoot it himself—but it had to be her. Teki couldn’t explain it, but it had to be her.

She sighed as her father drifted across the waterfall, across the threshold beyond. It was as if an invisible weight she had carried with her since she was small had floated away as well. He could rest easy now, high in Valhalla. Perhaps she could too.

But there was one thing stopping her from embracing that peace.

Teki followed the guard down through the catacombs of ancient stone, head low. It seemed colder down here, far below the palace. At least, she told herself that’s why she was shivering.

Behind translucent shields of glowing light, prisoners loomed at her as they passed. Teki kept her eyes straight ahead. Based on their biting leers, she got the feeling that they didn’t see a lot of visitors around here.

Her mother sat on the cot in the corner of her cell, picking at her nails. For a moment, Teki almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her dress plain and shapeless. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen her mother without her face painted.

Her eyes had lit up when she noticed Teki lingering on the other side of the ray shield.

“Tekla!” she smiled, her voice hoarse. “I hoped you’d come to see me!”

She wasn’t lying. Áslaug had been sending messages to her daughter through the guards nearly every day since she had been arrested, begging her to pay her a visit.

“You realize you don’t have to do it, right?” Loki had asked her. “You’re not beholden to that woman in any way. If you never want to see her again, you don’t have to.”

Teki knew that. And a part of her would be perfectly content to live out her life without her mother ever being in it. But there was another part that wanted to know what Áslaug could possibly have to say to her.

At first, it didn’t seem like much. “How’s Brant?” she asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“He’s well.” Teki’s voice was stiff. When she first decided to visit her mother, she had told herself she’d be polite. But now, looking at her sitting there pretending as if she had ever given a damn about either of her children, Teki decided she’d settle for civil.

Still, her mother continued on in her bubbly, fake happy voice. “Lovely dress.” She gestured to her emerald gown. “So it’s true then? You’re marrying the other one?”

Teki nodded.

Áslaug breathed a chuckle, shaking her head. “All of that, and you’re not even going to be queen.” She let out a sigh. “I suppose the Norns need a good laugh every now and then.”

“I don’t see anything to laugh about.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Look, I know you hate me,” she paused, as if waiting for Teki to contradict her. Teki only stared ahead in stony silence. She huffed. “I want you to understand, everything I did, I did for you.”

Teki raised her eyebrows. “You killed my father for me?”

“I had to!” Her mother sprung to her feet, leaning as close to the shield as she could without touching it. “Tekla, he didn’t care about your future! We had the chance to make you the most powerful woman in the Nine Realms, and he wanted to let it pass by. Would you be able to forgive me if I hadn’t taken that opportunity?”

“It would have been easier than forgiving you for murdering my father.”

She huffed. “Tekla—”

“What about Osvald?” Teki interrupted. “Did you marry him for me too?”

Her mother sighed. “I didn’t realize what he was like. Had I known—”

“You knew damn well what he was like,” she snapped. “He was willing to kill—”

“For me!” Áslaug pressed her hands to her chest. “He was willing to kill for me. That’s hardly something a woman should pass up.”

“No.” Teki inhaled. Her mother seemed so desperate to convince her, to convince herself that she believed what she was saying. She almost pitied her. “He was willing to kill for what you could give him. He loved you as much as you loved my father.”

Her mother frowned at her. “You’re angry with me now,” she said. “But one day you’ll understand. You’ll wake up and realize that everything you have today, everything you are today, is because of me.”

“You’re wrong,” Teki retorted. “I am what I am today in spite of you, not because.” She let out a shaky breath, motioning towards the guard that she was ready to leave. She met her mother’s glare with a firm stare of her own.

“Goodbye, Mama.” There was nothing else left to say.

The song was changing, morphing from the upbeat strings to the more somber piano solo.

Loki pulled her closer. “Do you want to go to the lake?” he whispered in her ear.

She laughed, cocking her head. “Are you going to push me in?”

“Of course not! Believe me, I learned my lesson with that one.”

“Uh-huh.” Brant was waving at her from the podium. She waved back with a grin. Loki stood beside her, eyebrows raised expectantly. Teki grabbed his hand. “Well, what are you waiting for, my prince? Lead the way!”

This is it, she realized as they scurried through the hallways, giggling like a pair of toddlers.

This is what happiness feels like.

#dances and daggers #loki x ofc #loki marvel #loki fanfic #dances and daggers chapter 18 #the end #cozy writes

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apiratewhopines · 3 years

Text

Thanks to @teamhook for giving me all the stubbly men

In the Offing

Chapter 17 — Hat Trick

Summary: In which our heroine believes in magic

Chapter 17 on AO3

“When you move

I can recall something that’s gone from me

When you move

Honey, I’m put in awe of something so flawed and free”

-Movement, Hozier

It had been a rainy couple of days since her trip out to the cabin with Graham. They had originally planned to meet up again and scan the area to see if they could find the Blanchard remains but the weather had prevented any chance of that. Instead, they had traded texts that included her thanking him for going on record with the paper to say she was no longer a suspect in the shooting. She had noticed a definite warming toward her by the citizens after his comments were splashed across the front page.

Of course it being Storybrooke, rumors had already begun to fly about who would take her place on the most wanted list. She avoided all requests for interviews and tried to focus on the task of finding the responsible party, encouraged every day by the positive news she received from August’s medical team.

Graham wasn’t the only one she had been texting with. As the date of the wedding drew closer, she started receiving messages from Elsa and her sister Anna, who happened to be a ball of chaotic energy that would put a toddler to shame. They were constantly inviting her over to help with this or that stage of the planning but she thought maybe it was really to make sure she didn’t disappear before the ceremony.

It seemed like the only person she hadn’t talked with was the one person to whom she actually had something to say. However, fulfilling his duties as best man had forced Killian into a last minute trip to Boston with Liam to pick up tuxedos and flowers arrangements. She had stopped by the cottage a couple of times to try to catch him, feeling that what she had to say would be better in person than by phone, but she never managed to connect.

So it was that Saturday evening under a clear twilight sky, she pulled up to the cottage. Nervously she ran her hands down her pale pink dress to smooth it as she tried not to think about the fact that she hadn’t spoken with Killian since she hung up on him several days ago. The front yard, which stretched down in a gentle rolling hill to a bluff that provided a beautiful ocean view, was transformed. There were a couple of large, white tents set up to accommodate the ceremony and the reception. Due to the heavy rain, someone had the forethought to have planking laid down in a walkway to the tents, which had also been raised on platforms and contained a beautiful hardwood floor to provide some protection from the wet ground.

As Liam had predicted, it appeared as though the entire town did show up. Waving at several people who caught her eye, she started to make her way over to Mary Margaret and David. Taking in the way their gazes never wavered from each other, she guessed that their wedding day wouldn’t be too far behind. Before she could reach them, Anna came flying over to her nearly vibrating with excitement. “Where are you going? I saved you a seat in the front row next to Kristoff.”

“Oh, that wasn’t necessary,” she protested. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself by sitting in a row normally reserved for family. Plus, if she was being completely honest, she wasn’t sure she could take being in close proximity to Killian while he was sporting a tux. The man oozed sexual magnetism in jeans so one could only imagine the allure of him in formalwear. She didn’t need a repeat of the kitchen debacle from a couple of weeks ago while the whole town was watching.

“Emma,” Anna whined with a pouty expression. “Do you see how empty the family section is? It’s embarrassing. Not to mention that Kristoff might fall asleep if you aren’t there to nudge him from time to time.”

“Fine.” She gave in easily when she sensed eyes drifting their way in curiosity. Trying to take her mind off the fact she felt like an animal in a zoo, she smiled at the other woman and said, “You look great.”

As Emma took her seat, Anna twirled in a circle and squealed, “I do, don’t I? This has always been a good color on me. I’m so glad we talked Elsa out of the all that ice blue. I mean, it’s a summer wedding. We need bold colors and lots of skin.”

“You will hear no arguments from me, babe,” Kristoff joked with a wink. As she was finding to be the case with the young couple, once they were honed in on each other she could do as she pleased because they were oblivious. Trapped by the puppy love playing out in front of her, she used the opportunity to study the lovely white roses and low lighting that showcased the tent to its best advantage. She couldn’t help but wonder how they had pulled off such an elaborate event with only days to plan.

Any thoughts she had about price tags and logistics were immediately frozen when she saw Liam and Killian step onto the stage about twenty feet in front of her. The Brothers Jones looked quite dapper and refined in their black tuxedos. Liam was calm and collected as always except for the faint hint of red across his cheeks, not even having one arm in a sling could diminish the happiness that radiated off him. Killian looked like a fantasy wrapped in a dream and dipped in chocolate.

Unfortunately, as she was feasting on him with her eyes he must have become aware of her idolizing stare. His penetrating blue gaze met hers full on for the first time in almost a week. Her heart beat out a painful thump at the emotion that flooded her but she couldn’t look away. He was perfect, from the top of his rumpled hair to the bottom of his precisely polished dress shoes. And she was an idiot.

“Geez, girl. Am I going to have to get you two a room so you don’t burn down the tent?”Startled out of her staring contest by Anna’s teasing, she looked over to see her companions watching her with matching grins. “Elsa mentioned there was something going on but she didn’t warn me that it was combustible.”

“Cute,” Emma said in tone that warned against further commentary. “Speaking of Elsa, shouldn’t you be helping your sister get ready?”

“Oh crap! I was supposed to be grabbing her a glass of water. See you guys later!”

For the next several minutes, Emma did her best to keep her gaze from wandering back to the stage even as she felt Killian’s eyes burning a hole through her. Kristoff was helpful in that regard because he was as much of a talker as his girlfriend, although in comparison he was still the shrinking violet in their relationship. The hum of conversations increased as the tent filled until the opening strains of the Wedding March began to play. As everyone stood to see the bride enter, she snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye and smiled shyly when she saw that Killian was staring back at her.

To no one’s surprise, Elsa made a beautiful bride. Her white blonde hair was styled in a complicated braid that looked soft and elegant. Her slender form was hugged by a white lace gown that looked fit for a queen. It was her serene expression that truly made her a beauty though. She had the look of a woman who couldn’t wait to start her future with the man waiting for her at the other end of the aisle.

Just like that, Emma felt tears forming. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one. There were several sniffles and weepy smiles in the tent as the pair shared their vows and promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. Liam’s deep voice never faltered and when the minister pronounced them man and wife, he didn’t hesitate to kiss Elsa soundly in front of God and everyone. And for rather longer than strictly necessary.

Laughter ringing out at the groom’s enthusiasm, the crowd began clapping as the newly married couple led the way to the reception. They were followed by the best man and maid of honor, whose heads were bent together as if they were plotting to overthrow the government. Knowing the two of them, Emma couldn’t completely rule out the possibility.

Kristoff offered her his arm to guide her into the other tent but she waved him on. She needed some time to collect herself so she continued to observe from the fringe of the crowd. The first dance was a slow romantic matter replete with loving glances and sighs. The cutting of the cake was a dignified event regardless of the taunting of some of the more rowdy members of the audience. As the band struck up a new song, couples started making their way to the dance floor. She was pleased to see Mary Margaret and David were one of the first to go, smiling at each other with the kind of fondness that would never fade.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she knew she had put off her conversation long enough. As she stepped out of the shadows, she heard a familiar voice ask, “May I have this dance, Emma?”

Shocked out of her anxiousness, she turned to find Graham standing behind her with his hand extended. He looked striking in his suit, she had to admit. Not fantasy dream chocolate level, of course, but not hard on the eyes. Putting her hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out to the floor. “I’m surprised to see you here, Sheriff. Didn’t you used to date the bride?”

Cringing a bit and screwing up his face, he looked at her through one eye. “There’s that adorable directness. It was one date, a rather hopeless affair I’m afraid.”

“Oh well, there are other fish in the sea,” she murmured encouragingly, a little concerned at the longing she saw in his stare when he looked at her. He shuffled her around the edge of the dance floor, his eyes searching hers for something.

“There is one fish that I have an interest in,” he admitted. “But I’m afraid I might be a little too late to catch her.”

With regret for the hurt her next words would cause him because somewhere along the way she had come to really like him, she confirmed, “Yes, I think you might be.”

Nodding with understanding, he shifted his glance to the front of the tent where the wedding party was currently enjoying dinner. With a rueful smile, he commented, “I’m guessing by the daggers that Killian is currently shooting my way that I have been bested by another Jones.”

Touching his cheek gently to bring his attention back to her, she teased, “Third time is the charm, my friend. To my knowledge, there aren’t any other brothers to contend with. Go forth with confidence and find yourself a lady worthy of you.”

Graham smiled down at her. The song ended but he held her an extra second, squeezing her waist affectionately before stepping back. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and swept a soft kiss near her wrist while looking at her with eyes full of laughter. “Let’s see if that brings your erstwhile suitor running.”

Shaking her head at him, she grinned at his back as he disappeared into the crowd. She started toward an empty chair a couple of tables away when she felt someone approach from behind. She knew without turning that it was Killian. The air around her electrified when he got near.

“Swan, where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to sit down and enjoy dinner, Dr. Jones. What brings you by?”

“I want to dance with you,” he stated, his gaze roaming over her like a caress. Holding out his hand, he continued, “You have the rest of your life to avoid me, love. Where’s the harm in one dance with a partner who actually knows what he’s doing?”

He really had no idea of the hold he had over her. He was still under the impression she planned to walk away. Yet there he was, reaching out to her as if her touch wouldn’t leave bruises. He may be the bravest man she ever met.

“I think I’m willing to risk it,” she whispered huskily as she eased into his arms. It was like coming home.

—

The night passed in a blur of champagne and dancing. Once Killian had her in his arms, he seemed loath to let her go, to the point of glowering at any man who approached. He did allow Liam a dance, and David and Kristoff grudgingly, but he always returned to her side as the final notes of the song played and pulled her into his arms again.

“I thought I agreed to one dance,” she teased, bracing herself one-handed on his shoulder as she tugged off her right shoe and massaged her foot. It was after midnight and the crowd had started to thin now that Liam and Elsa had run through a minefield of bubbles to the limousine that waited to take them to New York City for a mini-honeymoon. “I’m not sure my feet are going to recover.”

“Darling, if you can run down skips in stilettos a couple of dances with your many admirers shouldn’t be a problem,” he pointed out, dragging her out to the dance floor again. Willing to pay any price to continue to be this close to him, she plucked off her other shoe and tossed it gently under a nearby table. He abandoned his normal poise, wrapping his arms around her back and settling her against him in what amounted to little more than a hug. The world faded away as she rested her cheek against his chest.

The slow, romantic song continued to play in the background and he hummed the words as he swayed them gently in time to the music. She felt a tingle start at the base of her spine and work its way through her entire body. She didn’t even bother moving apart to say goodbye to Mary Margaret or Anna when they passed by to let them know they were leaving. When the band started to pack up and the caterers were tearing down tables, she observed quietly against his collar, “I think I ate too much cake.”

“You speak of the impossible,” he murmured into her hair.

“Killian,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you take me home?”

Tightening his grip a bit, he answered, “Of course, Swan, but I let Kristoff and Anna borrow my truck so we’ll have to take your car. Where are your keys?”

“No,” she replied with a smile up at him. “To the cottage.”

Eyes widening in understanding, he asked, “Are you sure? There will be no coming back from this. No more running away, no more secrets. There’ll be no getting rid of me.” He waited patiently, his face inches from hers. She thought she detected the hint of a smile forming.

“I’m ready if you are,” she promised as she went up on tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

With a predatory grin, he deepened the kiss and before she knew what he was about, she was upended over his shoulder with her eyes having a very nice view of his lower back and beyond. “Let’s sail away, love.”

Shrieking over his laughter, she asked, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I can’t have you trudging through the mud and muck in your bare feet, Swan,” he explained with a fond pat on her bottom. She felt him glide through the tent and buried her face in her hands when she heard him say good night to several of the staff as they passed by.

“And you couldn’t carry me like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Too caught up in muttering promises of revenge, she didn’t realize they were at the porch until he gently lowered her to the floor. “There you are, my lady. Safe passage to the front door.”

They were eye level with each other since he was standing on the stair below her. The blue gleam of his gaze was unearthly. His mouth was curved in a playful smile but she could tell he was nervous. She thought he was probably afraid she would run again and realized that he stopped there for a reason, as if he wanted her to commit to this and move inside on her own two feet. Taking his face in her hands, she stared at him and hoped he could see everything she was feeling. “I’m sorry. For a lot of things, really. Most of all, I’m sorry if I made you doubt me, doubt this. I’ve wanted you since before we even met.”

“I never doubted you, Swan. Not for a moment. But you are an impossible woman sometimes,” he whispered, twisting his face to press his lips to her palm.

Stepping away from him, she reached out and let her hand trail slowly down his chest. With a saucy smile, she opened the door and backed into the living room. To her surprise, he didn’t trip over himself trying to get to her, rather he followed her inside and braced against the closed door, seemingly content to drink in the sight of her.

“I’ve dreamed of you every night since you left,” he admitted, hunger in his voice. “There were times I nearly got in my truck and drove to the loft.”

At this, he moved closer. His eyes never wavered from hers. She felt as though she had lost the ability to speak. He was the only person who could do this to her with nothing more than a look. He was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his skin, smell the champagne on his breath but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he leaned in and murmured, “Tell me, love, would you have let me in?”

When she did nothing but shiver, he continued, “If I had gotten down on my knees and begged, would you have opened your door?”

His lips skimmed softly over her cheeks, then forehead, then her chin. Fleeting caresses that felt like gossamer against her heated skin. “If I had promised to be your devoted subject and do your bidding always, would you have allowed me to share your bed?”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you took your time,” she teased, her head light with desire. She had never felt like this before, this swirling, chaotic emotion that caused her to tremble. “Please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Seal the deal,” she joked weakly, biting her bottom lip as she fought against the force of the passion that rocked her.

“You do have a way with words,” he teased. “I’m afraid the deal was sealed the minute we laid eyes on each other. Perhaps even before then. Fate hasn’t always been kind to me, love, but I’ll pay whatever price is needed a thousand times over to ensure that for the rest of our lives you continue to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”

With a whimper, she gave in to temptation and closed the distance between them. The magic he weaved with his honeyed tone and bewitching words was nothing compared to how it felt when he reached down to pick her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Without breaking their kiss, he carried her to the bedroom where he proceeded to show her how much he meant every single thing he said.

—

They didn’t leave the cottage for two days and she was certain there was not a surface that wasn’t put to good use during that time. It was as if the outside world no longer existed and Emma was happily ensconced in some odd alternative universe where she was content and loved.

Eventually she emerged long enough to let Mary Margaret know she was still alive, to chat with Henry, to check in on August, and to cancel search plans with Graham. She knew sooner or later she would have to go back to the loft to collect her things if nothing else. Luckily, her slovenly ways and hasty exit from the cottage after their fight had proved useful in one regard. She had left enough of her belongings behind that she wasn’t walking around in her wedding outfit the whole time. It had done strange things to her heart to realize that he had collected all the clothes she left after their argument and neatly folded them, placing them in the top drawer of his bureau.

She noticed other signs of him making room for her in his life and, beyond that, making her feel welcome. Her preferred coffee cup was always clean and ready for her each morning. He had stocked her favorite shampoo in the shower, although how he knew it was her favorite when she never mentioned it she was still trying to figure out. He had added a couple of books to his shelves for her after a late night conversation about classics she had never had the chance to read.

Even when she had left, even when she had pushed him away, he hadn’t retreated. Not entirely. He had merely given her space to figure out what he had probably know all along...that they were good together and that needing someone wasn’t something to be feared.

So it was with some chagrin that she awoke Tuesday morning to find the bed empty. The quiet of the cottage was like a slap in the face after several blissful days of being adored. Even knowing he had to drop Anna and Kristoff off at the airport before meeting a client that morning at the marina, she was still surprised at how lonely it was. She, the woman who prided herself on her independence and self-reliance, was pining for a man after a mere five hours apart.

The wizardry of Killian Jones was limitless.

Looking over at the clock, she realized that yearning was all well and good but breakfast would be better. Taking her time to get showered and dressed, she walked out to the kitchen island to find a vase full of yellow flowers, a package of strawberry poptarts, and a note from her—whatever Killian was to her now—inviting her to join him at the marina when she woke up.

Grabbing a cup of cold coffee to go and the breakfast he left her, she ventured outside for the first time in days to find the sun shining brightly and the temperature pleasantly warm. She hastily ate her breakfast one-handed while driving to the marina with the windows rolled down. There was absolutely no traffic on the road and she pulled into the parking lot convinced that she was the only living soul in the area. Locking her car, she made her way to the last dock where the pirate ship was moored passing only one person on the way, a strikingly familiar redhead that caused her to do a double take.

Staring after the woman, she heard Killian shout. “Swan! I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

Dragging her eyes away from the retreating figure, she faced the man who was responsible for the increasingly frequent smile to be found on her lips. “Never, Dr. Jones.” Climbing aboard, she gave him a quick kiss that he seemed to take as a challenge to extend. “Was that—“

“Ariel?” Killian continued to pepper her face with sweet kisses as if supremely unconcerned that there was a Hollywood starlet wandering around the docks. “Yes, she was the client I was meeting with this morning. The studio sent her to be briefed on pirate lore. I had intended to introduce you but my little Sleeping Beauty couldn’t be bothered to roll out of bed at a decent hour.”

Snickering because they both knew why she needed the extra sleep, she allowed him to pull her into the Captain’s Quarters and promptly make her forget her own name.

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charincharge · 4 years

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Cruel Summer, Part 4

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Sorry about last chapter’s tag list! It seems like only half of you got notified, so, if you did not read Part 3 (it was posted Sunday), go back and read that one first, and apologies for my lack of Tumblr tech skills. I think it is fixed. FINGERS CROSSED. Okay, onward.

Aelin sips her coffee and silences her phone as it buzzes continually on the kitchen table. It’s been going off for the last two days with texts from Dorian. She lied and told him she wasn’t feeling well to give herself some space. But she knows she can only fend him off for maybe one more day or so.

Park today?

His latest text reads. It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with Dorian. She does. She really does. But, she’s just not feeling up to going to the park yet. She knows he’ll want to spend all day there, and she’s feeling less than enthused about that. And she’s sure that has absolutely nothing to do with a tall silver-haired employee she spent the better part of Monday avoiding. Nope. Nothing at all. She replies quickly.

Still sick. In bed with a fever :(

“Liar!” Dorian calls, rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Aelin grumbles as she takes a large bite of her toaster waffle. “How’d you get in here?”

Dorian slides into the kitchen chair next to her and lays his head down on the table, looking up at her with the saddest, biggest puppy dog eyes he can manage, and innocently holds up the small gold key that usually resides under the flowerpot next to the front door. Aelin grabs it back and lays her head on the table next to him. They stare at each other, their faces a few inches apart, Dorian’s eyes wide with wondering at Aelin’s frowning.

Dorian smirks and brings his hand up to boop her nose softly. Aelin scrunches her nose, but she can’t help but crack the smallest of smiles at her best friend’s efforts.

“You’ve been in a mood since Monday. What’s the deal?” he asks. “It wouldn’t happen to have to do with the red lipstick fiasco? Don’t think I didn’t notice you went back upstairs to put it on.”

“No,” Aelin scoffs, her false bravado kicking in as she pushes herself upright. “Of course not. I just remembered I had a matte stay all day lipstick, and it went better with my outfit.”

Dorian lifts himself up and stares at Aelin, his brow furrowing as he goads her, “So not wanting to go to the park has absolutely nothing to do with the hot hot silver-haired staff member you were making eyes at all day?” Dorian sighs. “Come on, Aelin. Tell meee,” he pleads. “I already know.”

Aelin flips her hair over her shoulder as she places her mug into the sink. “I’m sorry, Dor.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be sorry,” he says. “Because if we’re not going to the park, I’m going to need full details on your hot piece. And the side dish he brought with him.”

It suddenly clicks for Dorian. “Ohhhh, you’re disappointed he brought a date?” Dorian smirks. “Aelin. Not everyone can be single at your behest.”

She crosses her arms, annoyed. This is why she wanted one more day to herself. She didn’t want to talk about Rowan and his stupid rude girlfriend with her dark hipster makeup and beautifully inked skin and brightly dyed hair. If that was Rowan’s type, she had no shot of getting his attention. Not that she hadn’t tried. With the white bathing suit, and playing rough with the boys in the deep end and overzealously clinging onto Dorian’s back. Still, he hadn’t said a damn thing to her until the party ended, and only by accident.

“No,” Aelin lies. Dorian looks at her, unblinking. “Stop that.”

“You can’t let one little staff member prevent you from going to the park. It’s Ashryver Playland, and you’re Aelin fucking Ashryer. It’s your park. Let’s go reclaim our stomping grounds. Please?” he begs again, his sapphire eyes looking up at her through his thick fringe of lashes. “I promise I’ll shield you if we see him.”

“Fine.”

Dorian’s blinding smile is almost worth it. She tells him she’ll be right back and runs upstairs to get dressed for the day. She might put a little more effort into it than she would for just Dorian, but there’s no harm in looking cute. She braids her hair into two French braids and wiggles into a hot pink crop top and her overall shorts. She dons a full face of makeup, finishing with a pink lipstick, and finally makes her way down to where an impatient Dorian is waiting.

He holds out his arm for her, smartly not commenting on her outfit, and Aelin slips her arm through, linking them together for the fifteen minute walk down the beach to the Playland.

They’re greeted at the ticket booth by Fenrys, who is working behind the counter. He blushes upon seeing the approaching pair, and it makes Aelin smile. He hasn’t been quiet about his crush on both her and Dorian, which she thinks they would both be all over if he weren’t four years their junior. He’s shockingly good-looking with deep tanned skin and shoulder-length golden hair. He flashes them a toothy smile and Aelin can’t help but grin back, her mood lightening.

“Ah, the king and queen of Playland.” He pulls out unlimited wristbands for them. “Happy Summer.”

“Hey, handsome, happy summer,” Aelin says with a wink as he tapes on her wristband.

“Aelin, when are you going to let me take you out and make me the happiest man in Terrasen?” Fenrys asks, and Dorian snorts.

“Man? You’re not even old enough to grow facial hair,” Dorian teases, rubbing his thumb against Fenry’s bare cheek. It blooms with a rare blush under Dorian’s touch.

“I just turned twenty-one, so, who knows? Maybe this year is the year,” Fenrys says as he puffs out his chest. He bursts into laughter. “Yeah, yeah. I know you’d never date a staff member anyway. No shitting where you eat and all that.”

“Sure,” Dorian smirks. “That’s the reason.”

Aelin grabs at Dorian’s hand, pulling him away and waves goodbye to Fenrys, ready for the day. Aelin leans her head on her friend’s shoulder, her heart feeling ten times lighter. She’s buoyant, actually. She skips into the park, pulling Dorian along as she makes her way toward their first ride.

They make their way toward the biggest ride in the park – the Firecoaster, a rickety wooden rollercoaster built nearly a century ago. It’s Aelin’s absolute favorite ride in the park, so they do it first every single time, despite Dorian’s constant criticism of it (it’s too shaky, it’s too old, why haven’t they replaced the cars in a literal hundred years?).

But as they arrive at the ride she sees a short crop of silver hair at the entrance, letting people onto the coaster. Naturally.

“Maybe we should come back to the coaster later,” Aelin suggests, and Dorian’s eyebrow lifts in question.

“You know I won’t go on this ride in the dark,” Dorian replies, and Aelin nods. She really wants to go on this coaster. But with Rowan letting people on, there’s absolutely no way to avoid him. “Is he up there?” Dorian whispers and tugs at one of Aelin’s pigtails.

Aelin doesn’t answer, still unsure of how she’s going to handle the whole situation. Dorian grabs her hand and pulls her into the line. With people piling in behind them, they’re immediately stuck.

“What the hell?” Aelin hisses, but Dorian simply shrugs.

“You’re taking back your ground!” he says exuberantly.

Aelin knows he’s right, but her stomach still feels like she ate a box of rocks with how heavy it is suddenly. She watches intently as Rowan performs his job, dutifully ushering everyone into the wooden coaster cars and making sure they’re safely secured before they take off. He’s not particularly friendly, Aelin notices. He's not the kind of staff member who smiles at each person with a customer service grin, but she does take note that at he makes sure to help the smaller kids in and out with one of his steadying hands.

The line moves far too quickly, and within minutes they’re at the top of the line. Aelin knows she should look away, but as she makes her way onto the platform, she keeps her eyes trained on Rowan. When he finally turns and meets her gaze, his dark green eyes widen slightly with surprise. Aelin swallows, her mouth suddenly feeling completely parched as they share a charged, wordless stare.

It’s interrupted by the last coaster coming to a stop suddenly on the tracks before them, and Rowan scrambles to attention to help the group exit the car. Dorian pushes Aelin into the first row of the empty car, and she stumbles forward, throwing her best friend a dirty glare.

Aelin straps herself into the cart, pulling the seatbelt across her lap and clicking it securely in place.

“Everyone, hands up,” Rowan says, and he starts from the back of the car, tugging at the seatbelts to ensure the passengers’ safety.

By the time Rowan reaches the front row, Aelin’s heart is pounding in her chest, and it has absolutely nothing to do with her excitement to ride the rollercoaster.

Rowan squats down and leans his torso across Aelin, his arm lightly brushing against the front of her overalls as he reaches over her to tug on Dorian’s seatbelt. Satisfied that it’s in place, Rowan pulls back slightly, his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into a thin straight line. His head is so close to hers, she can feel his breath fan across her neck as he exhales. Despite the hot sun overhead, goosebumps break out across her arms. What the hell?

“Hey, you’re Rowan, right?” Dorian pipes up, and Aelin sends him a murderous glare as the silver-haired man looks up with a suspicious frown on his face.

“Uh, yeah. I am,” Rowan says, turning his attention to Aelin’s lap.

“Aelin’s told me so much about you,” Dorian continues, ignoring his best friend’s death stare. “Maybe we could all go out soon? Since we didn’t get to meet at the party.”

Rowan looks perplexed as he adjusts his position again to check Aelin’s seatbelt. “Um, maybe? I’m kinda busy… with work.”

Aelin is going to kill Dorian. She shifts in her seat to question him, right as Rowan reaches down to tug at her seatbelt, and she accidentally throws him off balance. Rowan falls forward a tiny bit and his hand darts out to brace himself. It comes to rest on Aelin’s knee, the rough pads of his fingers clutching against her bare skin, and if Aelin weren’t restrained, she thinks she may have jumped out of the car in shock.

“Sorry!” Rowan apologizes, snatching his hand back in pain, as if she were on fire and he’d just burned himself.

“It’s fine,” Aelin says, her voice sounding breathy to her own ears. She’s positive she’s blushing all the way down to her chest, but she refuses to look.

“Sorry,” he says again, his voice filled with apology.

She’s about to reassure him again, but he’s already walking back to the controls. Aelin looks over her shoulder to get one more look at the man who literally took her breath away with a single touch, but she can’t think about it for long.

Because soon she’s flying forward. The wind rushes across Aelin’s face, swirling around her with each twist and turn of the coaster. Laughter bubbles up from her chest, and she squeals loudly as they hit the first drop. She closes her eyes and lets the ride take her up, up and away, making her heart race.

Just as quickly as it took off does it come to a halt. Aelin unclips herself quickly and runs as fast as she can on her unsteady legs, away from Rowan’s prying gaze. As soon as she’s far enough away from the ride, she whirls around and socks Dorian in the arm. Hard.

“OW!” He clutches at his shoulder.

“Maybe we could all go out soon?” Aelin parrots his words back at him. “What the fuck, Dor?! What happened to being my shield?”

Dorian rubs his arm, slowly stoking the pain out of his dead arm. “I was doing recon. Notice he didn’t say he had a girlfriend.”

“I hate you,” Aelin says, going to punch his other arm, and Dorian runs, cowering from her absurd superhuman ability to find the most painful spot to punch.

“You love me!” he shouts as he sprints toward the log flume.

The pair chase each other from ride to ride, making the most of their day in the park. Aelin only spots Rowan once more, after his shift change, taking tickets at the Skyflyer – a ride she and Dorian have sworn never to go back on after they both tried it in high school and puked their guts out afterwards. So, conveniently, she doesn’t have to deal with that whole situation again. Which is good, because it’s starting to stress Aelin out. She’s never this strung out about a guy. Ever. Especially one that isn’t single and is definitely uninterested.

By the time the sun is setting, Aelin is more than ready to go home. She could use a long soak in the bath and a good night’s sleep. But Dorian insists on one more ride. Aelin agrees, but only if Dorian promises to buy her fried dough with Nutella on it for dessert after.

Dorian’s smile lights up his face as he pulls her towards the bumper cars. Aelin might have a little too much fun crashing into his car over and over again.

With a scoop of Nutella in her mouth, Aelin sees a shock of silver hair, finally coming in for the end of his day. She watches as he crosses the field and makes his way into the employee break room, her eyes following the motion of his lithe body. God, now that she knows what he looks like without a shirt on, she can’t stop imagining the way his tattoo crept up his taut abs, over his wide shoulders, and trailing down the side of his muscular back. It’s not fair. Why did he have to be in a relationship already? She licks her lips, tasting the warm chocolatey hazelnut spread and hums in pleasure as she imagines licking it off other places…

“Elide!” Dorian shouts, calling over their friend and breaking Aelin out of her hormone-induced trance. Elide runs over with a smile on her face for the pair.

“I’m sorry I barely saw you both at the party,” Elide apologizes immediately, but Aelin and Dorian wave her off.

“You were celebrating. With Lorcan, right? Please say yes,” Aelin says with a cheerful smile and offers a bite of her dough to Elide.

“I actually spent most of the time with a friend of mine I hadn’t seen in a few years,” Elide admits as she takes the piece from Aelin. “She used to be my RA. She’s the best. I hope you met her.”

“Really?” Dorian asks. “That’s so much fun. Who?”

“Manon Blackbeak?” Elide continues, oblivious to Aelin stiffening next to her at the table. “She came with a new guy, Rowan. She’s his roommate. Isn’t that such a crazy coincidence?” Elide rambles.

Dorian looks to Aelin and mouths “roommates” with a smirk.

“Roommates?” Aelin asks, her voice tight. “Is that all they are? Because I got kind of a datey vibe from them.” Aelin tries to keep her face impassive, but can’t when Dorian snorts at her. Aelin has forgone subtlety today, apparently.

“No, that’s impossible,” Elide says resolutely with a shake of her head.

“Because roommates have never gotten together before?” Aelin asks, her voice haughty with ridicule.

“No. Because they both like women,” Elide says with a laugh. “Or at least Manon does.”

Dorian bites his lip and looks at Aelin. His eyes frantically connect with hers before looking back at Elide, who is completely unaware of the bomb she’s just dropped.

“Is that so?” Dorian asks, and Elide nods.

“Oh yeah. Manon is a gold star and proud of it.” Elide looks at her watch. “Shit, I have to clock out. But I want to catch up with both of you later, okay? Find me next time you’re in the park?”

“Yuppp,” Aelin drawls. “Bye, babe!” Aelin waves as Dorian practically drags Aelin out to the parking lot, his torso doubled over in laugher.

Aelin frowns. “It’s not that funny.”

“It’s hilarious,” he says, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Here you were all worked up about your prince Charming having a girlfriend and she’s gay. What gave you the impression they were dating?”

“I don’t know. He brought a hot blonde to my house?” Aelin sighs. Rowan did introduce Manon as his friend. “Oh my god, I get it,” she squeaks.

“What?”

“She said this thing about keeping two of her nails short, and… I’m am so stupid.”

Dorian laughs at her, hard, and wraps his arms around her shoulders. “So, what now? Want help reeling in your man?”

Aelin smiles as she sees Rowan climbing into a beat up truck halfway down the parking lot. “No,” Aelin shakes her head as she links arms with Dorian again. “I think I’ve got it.”

~*~*~*~*~

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

Text

Assumptions

10/01/2021

Pairing: Manuel Neuer x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 6,018

Warnings: rpf, mentions of age gap (not between reader and Manu and nothing illegal) and strong opinions on that, banter, jealousy, infuriation, fluff and cuteness

Summary: The reader finally catches her long time crush Manuel Neuer alone on her uncle's birthday. Things are quickly starting to get heated—sadly it's not the kind of heated she would have liked it to be.

A/N: Most of you probably don't know Manuel Neuer. He is the goalkeeper and captain of Bayern Munich as well as the German National Football Team and every once in a while I find my thoughts drifting towards that adorable and amazingly talented manchild. This story has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I wasn't sure whether I felt comfortable with publishing it in case it ever got finished. But I found that there is an intolerable lack of Manuel Neuer x reader fics on here, so here it is. I tagged everyone from my general tag list, but I understand if this is not what you signed up for. So sorry in advance and please feel free to ignore this story at your leisure.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

It was only a few minutes to midnight and still the dance floor was as filled as ever, an enchanting mixture of young and old people alike. The bass rolled deep in his stomach, making him even queasier than he already was, and the lights, flickering across the mass of moving bodies in sync to the rhythm of the music, didn’t help either.

Suddenly a figure broke through the outer wall of bodies and made her way over to his table. A small smile crawled over her lips, a little shy but genuine, yet he didn’t feel like returning it. He had hoped that she would change her mind upon the disgruntled look on his face, but much to his dismay, she did nothing of the sort and sat down right next to him, just as a waitress passed the table with a tray of colourful shots. The woman next to him stopped her, before she turned to him.

“Care for a drink?”

Did he care for a drink? He yearned for one.

“No, thanks. I’m not really fond of drinking.”

“Shame,” she shrugged, her smile growing a bit wider when she took two shots from the tray anyway. For a second he thought she might actually force him to drink with her, but then she placed down the two glasses in front of herself. Raising her first glass to him, she gulped it down in one swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards.

“Do you care for a dance then?” She nodded over to the dance floor, her eyes and body inviting him to take the offer.

He found that he somehow couldn’t hold her gaze when he answered, “I’m afraid I’m also not very fond of dancing.”

Her forearms resting on the table, she leaned closer, obviously not taking the hint that he just wanted to be left in peace and quiet.

“Then what are you fond of?”

“I think you know pretty well what I’m fond of.” To his own surprise he sounded even harsher than he had attempted to, but the last thing he needed right now was an eager fan trying to engage him in a conversation.

“I do,” she retorted undeterred, “but that’s not what I wanted to know. See, you might not have noticed through all your sulking, but I was actually interested in you as a person, not as a footballer.”

He huffed, although he wasn’t sure she had heard him above the music.

“And you might have noticed that I am not interested in talking about private stuff to complete strangers.”

Sure, he was being massively impolite, but at least he hoped that this would do the trick now. But instead of finally leaving him alone, she shot him an amused look.

“Ooooh, grumpy, aren’t we?”

Now it was him who leaned in closer, making sure she could hear him properly. “Look, it’s nothing personal, okay? I just...it wasn’t such a great evening for me.”

Unintentionally his eyes wandered over to the dance floor for a split second, where a very young, very blonde girl was dancing happily among his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. Cursing himself, he looked over to the woman by his side carefully, hoping she hadn’t noticed. But of course she had, her eyes still fixed on the girl.

“Ah, I see.” She turned to him and the glint in her eyes made his stomach turn. “Puberty is a bitch, eh?”

“Excuse me?” he spat, equal parts bewildered and stunned.

“You heard me alright.”

Who did she think she was? Impertinent woman.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The volume of his voice must have slipped his control a little, as he noticed a group of elderly men standing nearby turn into his direction. Still the woman’s smile never left her face, appeasing the men who turned away again.

“Really? After all I have to sit here with a pissed thirty something man who refuses to acknowledge he let his hormones get the best of him.”

“Whoa! Okay, first of all, it was you who decided to come and sit at this table and second, again, none of your goddamn business.”

Her answer was a simple grin, still not fazed by his anger in the slightest. It almost felt as if she was enjoying to get him riled up.

“You’re right.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

He rolled his eyes heavily. Why couldn’t she just leave?

“You know, that phrase usually goes with an apology. Like ‘You’re right. Sorry I assumed you’re having a mid-life crisis and bang a chick that is 15 years your junior to boost your fragile ego.’”

“Do you?”

Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm himself a little. After all, he couldn’t afford to yell at her again, not that he didn’t want to, but causing even more unwanted attention was not in his plans for tonight.

“I didn't say that.”

“Well actually,” she looked at him triumphantly, “you kind of did. I never said you were having a midlife crisis or that you need her to boost your ego. Those were your words. And seeing that my assumptions caused a reaction like that, I’m afraid I can’t really say I’m sorry either.”

All right, that was it. Enough was enough.

“Look, I think I have an assumption for you too, lady. I’m starting to assume that you only came over here to rile me up further. And guess what, mission completed. So why don’t you do us both a favour and head off to pester someone else now?”

She was quiet for a moment and for the first time, the cheeky smile left her beautiful, burgundy lips. He had expected her to be a bit shaken at least, maybe even as pissed as himself, and yet the next words were spoken with such dignity that he couldn’t help but admire her a little for it.

“Oh, I would love to say you’re right again, but I’m afraid I can’t this time. And since we seem to have warmed up to each other quite a bit by now, I feel it’s okay to be completely honest with you.” She paused a second, simply for the effect, he guessed and her warm eyes never left his. “I came to sit with you because you looked miserable. Still do, by the way. And I thought you might need an actual grown up to talk to. But it seems I was wrong. You’re just a pouty manchild, like the rest of them.”

She waved her arm, pointing over at the dancing crowd of his friends and their spouses. His eyes followed her gesture and when he laid eyes on the heart of the matter, a hot flush of rage began to swirl through his veins, making his hands clench into fists. Fully set on giving her a piece of his mind, not caring who might hear him at this point, he turned to her again. But the familiar figure that had somehow entered the picture without his notice made him stop in his tracks.

“Here you are, sweetie.” The man cooed, laying his large hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture. “I almost got the feeling you were hiding from me since I made you promise to dance with me tonight.”

She twisted her slender neck to look up at his gentle face, her attention making him smile sweetly at her.

“You know I’d never do that to you, Uncle Hans, especially not on your birthday. I just thought your no. 1 goalkeeper here was in need of some mature company, but clearly he is perfectly happy with the way things are.”

Bewilderment flickered behind the coach’s gaze as he looked between his niece and one of his best players and Manuel was sure that this might not be the last time they would speak about this matter.

“So then, may I have that dance now, sweetheart?”

“With pleasure.” Manuel watched almost transfixed as she gracefully took her uncle’s hand and stood up. It was only now that he noticed how perfectly her dress showed off her voluptuous curves. He was almost certain that she would leave without another word when once again she proved him wrong. Turning on her heels, she grabbed the remaining shot and gulped it down in one large swig before she looked down at him, almost as regal as a queen.

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Neuer. I’m sorry I can’t say I enjoyed our conversation more. Oh, and just in case you should ever feel in need to talk to a grown up, don’t call.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She could still feel his piercing look on her back as Hansi led her through the crowd and away from him. They had just begun to dance when the song changed and a much slower tune echoed through the large room. With a smug grin, her uncle pulled her closer, bringing his hand to the small of her back. Cheek to cheek he swayed her to the beat and she could feel that her mind was almost beginning to slow down, when he decided to pick up a conversation.

“Will you tell me what that was all about?”

She bit her lip like a little girl that was about to be scolded. “Do I have to?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibration rumbling against her chest and she could easily imagine the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I’m certainly not going to force you. It’s just, you know, I always thought you kind of liked him.”

Instantly, she could feel her face heat up. How could he possibly know that?

“True. Liked, as in past tense. And besides, it’s not that I actually know him, personally, I mean. You could perhaps say I admire his talent, at most. And he also may be kind of easy on the eyes.”

She had become more and more quiet while she spoke, merely mumbling the last sentence. But he had heard her nonetheless, her silliness making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Hm. I clearly remember your aunt begging me to invite him over for a barbecue party last summer, telling me that you wouldn’t shut up about his quiet reserve, his amazing performance on the field and his stunning smile. Sadly he didn’t have time.”

She gulped audibly, tensing up a little in his arms, which made him enjoy their little talk even more. “So, what changed your mind?”

“He did,” she said a little too quickly, before she sighed so heavily that her uncle almost regretted bringing this topic up after all. “It’s just, I don’t understand his choice in women. I mean, he could choose literally anyone, so why her? I mean, she clearly doesn’t make him happy.”

“And how do you know that? You have spoken to him for what? Like five minutes?” He turned them around, making her face the gloomy goalie once more, before he went on. “I might be wrong, sweetheart, but I think you’re just jealous.”

Over his shoulder her gaze met Manuel’s for a split second before his eyes shot to his right, where the blonde teenager stepped into the picture, blocking him from view. She sat down on his lap, her arms dragging around his neck possessively, as her lips met his in a feverish kiss. Averting her gaze immediately, her eyes darkened and her heart clenched heavily in her chest.

“If by jealous you mean disenchanted, you’re right.”

Her bitter words made him loosen his grip on her so that he could see her face, and the hurt in her eyes pained him more than he cared for.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but he really is a good person.”

She scoffed while her incredulous eyes landed on her uncle’s soft, blue orbs. “Well, he certainly hid that pretty well.”

He gave her a tight lipped smile. “I think he’s just lost his way a little at the moment.”

“So you think I’m right then?”

The excited sparkle in her eyes made him regret his honest words a little.

“I didn’t say that.” He protested strongly. In the end it was not for him to judge his players’ private lives. “After all he is a grown man and he can decide for himself.” He could see her face fall again and so he was quick to add, “Nevertheless, I don’t think you’re completely wrong either.”

He was very pleased to see that his words had caused a small smile to crawl back to her pretty lips. He almost felt like a proud father and when she finally leaned back in a bit closer, her forgiving gesture almost made him a bit bold.

“So, uhm, one more question, sweetheart. In the unlikely event that he should after all need a grown woman to talk to, can I give him your number?”

“Certainly not,” she insisted with a steady voice, but when she looked at him, the adorable grin on her face left no doubt that this was the biggest lie she had ever told.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Manuel was furious as he watched her leave towards the dance floor with the coach. How could she dare call him out like that and then leave without giving him the chance to set her straight? His eyes fixed on her, he watched as Flick pulled her closer, his eyes following her uncle’s hand to the small of her back. Being the gentleman he was, his hand had found the only spot on her back that was actually covered by the dark red fabric of her dress. And for a second he imagined what it might actually feel like to let his hand wander upwards until it covered her bare skin. Or maybe he could let it slip down a few inches, until his fingers would grasp the soft flesh of her behind. He had just been able to fully picture the exact feeling of her body pressed up to his when he could feel the man who actually held her in his arms catch his indecent look on his niece’s back. Immediately he sat up straight, averting his gaze, completely missing the amused smile on the other man’s face, and when he turned back to face him, he almost lost it when he found her sparkling eyes instead.

He was still trying to figure out what had happened, when he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Hey, babe.” The high pitched noise made him flinch and instinctively his eyes shot to his right, just in time to pull his arms away before she slumped down onto his lap clumsily. She laid it on thickly as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you on the dance floor, honey bun. Why don’t you come dance with me?”

And before he even had the chance to answer, her lips crashed down on his mouth almost painfully, her tongue forcing his lips to open. The stench of alcohol filled his mouth and he pushed her drunken form off of him determinedly. Before she even had the chance to protest, he lifted her up and placed her in his chair.

“I don’t think dancing is a good idea in your condition.” She glared at him, but then she seemed to have forgotten what for and her lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Look, why don’t you just stay here and I get you a nice, big glass of water to sober you up a little?”

She began to nod, but then her eyes lost focus und she stared past him at god knows what.

“All right, I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t go anywhere.”

Quickly he made his way over to the counter and ordered a whole bottle of water, when he felt the slap of a hand on his left shoulder.

“Wow, you look even more frustrated than after our knock out at the World Cup in 2018. What happened?”

“Don’t ask.” He sighed as he turned around to face his friend. Manuel hoped that he would accept his wish, but when he saw the apologetic look on Thomas’ face, he instantly knew that he wouldn’t drop the topic.

“Too late. I just did.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, the next words were spoken more to himself than to his teammate.

“Great, just what I need. Another pain in my ass.”

“Another? Who was the first then?” Obviously Thomas had taken no offence and sounded a bit too cheerful for Manuel’s liking.

“She.”

He looked over at the dance floor, where the impertinent woman was just sending her uncle the most beautiful, cheeky grin he had ever seen.

“Who? Y/N?” his friend asked incredulously.

Y/N. So that was her name.

“You know that annoying woman?”

“I do, although I can’t really say she’s annoying. Met her at the coach’s home once. She seemed rather sweet and intelligent to me.”

“She certainly hid that pretty well,” Manuel growled under his breath, earning him a surprised frown from Thomas.

“Are you gonna stand here and stare daggers at her or are you gonna tell me what she did to make you throw a fit?”

“She approached me out of nowhere to tell me that I’m dating a teenager to compensate my inability to commit to a partner on eye level.”

Thomas let his words sink in for a while.

“That doesn’t really sound like her. I mean, what reason would she have to come at you like that? She doesn’t even know you.”

Manuel sighed, thinking about the way she had somehow coaxed the statements from him instead of making them herself.

“Well, she might have phrased it differently,” he admitted meekly. That seemed to spark Thomas’ interest even further and he could feel his expectant look on him, pressing him to finally tell the whole truth.

“Actually she didn’t say it like that. She only made an allusion and made me somehow say those things myself.”

“Mhm. And exactly what allusion did she make?”

Manuel rolled his eyes again, his ego still fighting to repeat her words out loud.

”She said puberty was a bitch, clearly hinting at the fact that she thought my girlfriend was too young for me.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Thomas’ roaring laughter filled the air.

“Now that does sound more like her.”

He needed a bit to contain himself when he suddenly looked up at Manuel with an unusually serious expression on his face.

“And I have to admit, Manu, she kind of has a fair point there.”

“What?”

Manuel could not believe his ears.

“Come on, man. It’s what everyone thinks. She just said it out loud.”

“Fuck you.”

But instead of rising to his expletive, Thomas just looked at him sympathetically. Pushing himself off of the counter, he pat his shoulder in an attempt to encourage him a little, ready to leave him to his self-denial.

But then he stopped. “You know, I personally didn’t have a problem with it. You’re an adult, you can make your own choices. As long as you’re happy, right? But the truth is, Manu, I don’t think you are. Not anymore.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be here. No need for all the panic beforehand.”

She narrowed her eyes at her cousin, shooting her a dirty look.

“Yeah, and I hope it’ll stay that way. Oh, and for the record: I wasn’t panicking at all, it was just you and your sister’s sudden eagerness to lure me here that got me suspicious and nervous in the first place.”

“We didn’t lure you here,” her other cousin piped up a little offendedly. “We simply wanted to spend some time with you. Come on, it’s been what, like 4 months now? Since you moved to Munich three years ago, we hardly get to see you anymore.”

“You and our father,” her sister added quickly. “So it seemed the best option to kill two birds with one stone and bring you along. After all it’s called a family day, right?”

Y/N sighed, not fully convinced, but finally ready to let the topic go.

“Right. Let’s just hope for your sakes that there will be no surprises today that might prove your guilt after all.”

“How are my girls doing?” she heard a familiar voice from behind her back, turning towards her favourite uncle with a beaming smile. What she didn’t see, however, was the brief look that was exchanged between her cousins as soon as she had turned her back, proving exactly what she had suspected all along.

“We’re good, dad. Actually, we’re more than good, we’re excellent,” the older cousin chirped.

“Great.” He paused a moment, but it was clear that he had more to say. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he looked from one woman to the other. “So,” he began carefully, before a huge Cheshire grin spread across his face. “I hope you all reserved a dance for me tonight.”

“Oh, no, daddy, not again.”

“Please, don’t make us do this.”

“There will be dancing here? If you had told me that beforehand, I certainly wouldn’t have come.”

“Of course there will be dancing. I thought that was obvious.” He had to try very hard to look a little slighted, while he actually drew a horrendous amount of amusement from their antics. “Remember, girls, we have a tradition to uphold. Whenever there is some dancing at a party, you have to reserve at least one dance for me. That’s the rule.”

And with that he turned and left them on their own again.

“Ugh, why does he always have to do that to us?” her younger cousin whined.

“Oh stop it, silly. You’re the one who likes it the most and everyone knows.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She had been the first to pay tribute to the family tradition and after a very exhausting Discofox dance session, luckily one of her cousins had taken over from her. Kicking off her heels, she welcomed the feel of the cool grass underneath the soles of her feet. Walking over to one of the empty tables, she slumped down heavily into one of the comfortable looking chairs. With a contented smile she let herself fall back against the backrest, closing her eyes and breathing in the mild air of the warm summer night.

“Care for a drink?”

His voice made her jump, sitting up straight immediately, eyes shooting wide open. And there he was, two shot glasses in his large hands and grinning down at her, obviously very satisfied with the slight scare he had just given her. He looked amazing, the smug bastard, in his casual jeans and white shirt, two buttons undone, topped with a sporty black jacket. She highly doubted that she had ever seen a finer man in her entire life. Luckily that didn’t make her lose her sharp tongue.

“And here I am thinking that you weren’t fond of alcohol. What happened?”

He smiled sheepishly, only one corner of his mouth tugged up, when he handed her her drink. He took his time, grabbing a chair and positioning it opposite hers, then sitting down carefully, not wanting to spill the shot all over his chest. She had already come to think that he was trying to avoid her question after all, when he locked eyes with her and finally began to speak.

“Hm. It’s been a while since I last saw you. A lot of things happened, you know. Maybe it was finally time for me to grow up.”

“Hear, hear.” With a mischievous smile she raised her glass. “To your coming of age, then.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “If you insist.”

His magnificent blue eyes never left hers while they chinked glasses, and a second later she could feel the more than welcome liquid moisturising her suddenly very dry mouth.

With a thud, their glasses landed on the table, both of them chuckling like giddy children when their eyes found each other again and then, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. The world seemed to have zoned out, leaving behind nothing but his aquamarine orbs and the wild smile on his face.

Just gradually, the world seemed to set back in again. There was the monotonous clitter of the crickets, overlaid by the muffled sound of the music that was carried over by a soft breeze, and loudest of all she could hear the beating of her own heart against her chest.

“What else has changed now that you are a proper adult?” she heard herself ask, not having the faintest idea where those words came from and how the hell she managed to deliver them so smoothly when her whole body seemed to have gotten out of control.

He took a quick look over his shoulder, his thumb pointing in the same direction.

“If you mean the dancing, I’m still not very fond of that.” Her face must have fallen a little because he was quick to add, “Except...”

“Except what?”

His eyes landed back on hers and she almost choked on her hitching breath.

“Except I think I could make an exception for the right partner.”

From the corner of her eye she registered a movement between their bodies, but she was hesitant to let her view stray from his captivating appearance. At last it was something in his eyes that looked at her expectantly which finally made her snap out of her trance.

Looking down at his hand sheepishly, it took her a while to fathom that he was actually asking her to dance with him.

Slowly her eyes wandered up to his again, asking a silent question, which he answered with an almost imperceptible rise of his eyebrows. And before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

He had just turned towards the source of the music, when she suddenly held him back.

“No, wait.”

With a puzzled look he did what she asked of him and let her twist him back around.

“Why don’t we just stay here? The music is loud enough anyway.”

A gentle smile curved his lips. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded softly, her teeth biting down on her lip in excitement.

And before she knew what was happening, she found herself secured against his chest by his firm grip. It felt like being pressed up to a hot furnace which she would usually have appreciated any other time, but on a sweltry night like this and in a place she had wanted to be in for so long, it was pure torture. And as if this wasn’t bad enough already, his strong fingers pressed down on her lower back, threatening to scorch her even through the fabric of her blouse as he pulled her an impossible inch further into him. He was so close now that she could sense the heat radiating off his cheek as well, bringing along a whiff of his enticing scent and she couldn’t help but close her eyes as she inhaled deeply and her head began to spin. It was odd, but her mind was completely blank by now, blank except for one thought and her lips spread into a blissful smile as she repeated it in her head again and again, relishing in the feeling that if either of them moved just the tiniest bit, their cheeks would inevitably touch.

Slowly they moved and despite the unhurried shift of their bodies her heart was beating so violently that she thought it pondered jumping out of her chest to meet his. There was no chance he wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he held her, and when he finally drew away a tad to look at her, she fully expected him to call her out for it.

But he didn’t. Instead his sinfully soft lips curled into a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“You were right.”

“I beg your pardon?”

A cute chuckle escaped his mouth, leaving the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most beautiful display of amusement.

“About what you said at your uncle’s birthday party.”

“Oh.” She had said a lot that evening, words that she had come to regret later and remembering them now set her cheeks on fire. “About what exactly?”

“About everything,” he admitted without hesitation, yet he couldn’t hide the spark of misery that flitted across his sea blue orbs. “Didn’t take me very long after that night to finally see things clearly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was true. Although she knew that she probably sounded like a madwoman after everything she had confronted him with back then, at least the frown on his forehead seemed to confirm that. “I truly am. I really would have liked to see you happy.” Even if it was with that girl.

She was glad she had managed to keep that last bit to herself. She had no idea why she had said that she was sorry in the first place, but judging by the wild smile on his face it must have been the right words after all.

“Well, I certainly am happier now than I was that night.” He shrugged. “So, thank you, I guess.”

She huffed. “For what? Making absolutely inappropriate remarks on your relationship? I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now. So it should be me who is sorry here, don’t you think?”

She could feel his fingertips press into the soft flesh of her back.

“Don’t be. I guess you were exactly what I needed.” It took him a second before he realised what he had just said. “I mean it. It was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes snapped to the left and she was thankful that he couldn’t see the grin that decorated her lips as she watched the treacherous colour creep into his cheeks, spreading all the way to his ears. For a while he didn’t say another word, probably still trying feverishly to figure out a way to take back his slip of the tongue. And when he finally spoke, she wished he hadn’t.

“There is one thing though that I have gone over and over in my mind. But no matter how long I think about it, it just won’t make sense.”

She already knew that she wouldn’t like where this conversation was heading now, but she found herself asking nonetheless.

“And what is that?”

His head turned without a warning as his eyes searched her gaze and for the blink of an eye his lips came so close that she couldn’t say if they had actually brushed along hers or if her needy heart had just imagined their brief touch. He didn’t answer her question right away, his breath blending with her own in the narrow space between their faces and suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore if she had really only dreamed up their fleeting foretaste of a kiss.

“Why did you do it?” Panic rose in her chest. She hadn’t done anything. After all it had been him who had turned his head. But as he went on, she realised that he wasn’t referring to that at all and the suffocating distress eased away bit by bit. “I mean, we didn’t even know each other when you decided to come at me like that.”

Now it was her who had to avert her gaze.

“I think I don’t really want to answer that question.”

“Why not?” His voice was so soft and gentle, making it even harder to answer him.

“Because the truth might be kind of ugly.”

“But the outcome wasn’t, so I think I’ll take that risk.”

Her feet stopped their mechanical movements as a violent shiver ran down her spine. So this would be it then. It would be over before it had really begun. Pity. But at least she would have the memory of these few minutes, of his genuine smile and the way he had held her tight against his chest. With a deep sigh she bid their daydream of a dance goodbye.

“I could tell you now that it was for some noble reason, but at the bottom of it all I think it was nothing more than jealousy that drew me to your table that night. I had been unable to ignore you all evening — ignore her. The way she behaved like a spoiled brat, drinking and losing control, not caring in the least that she not only made a fool out of herself but of you as well. God, I hated her in that moment, for having everything I ever wanted and riding roughshod over it. And when I saw you sitting there, looking so utterly crestfallen, somehow I couldn’t help it.”

An undefinable silence settled between them and the only sound that remained was the beat of the music wafting over from the party that went on behind his back. The faint whisper of the melody seemed to push itself up between them and tear them further apart, exactly as she had expected. And just like the bass, her heartbeat slowed until it died away completely.

It was over and everything she wanted to do was let go of his hand so she could do him the favour of leaving, but to her astonishment he refused to set her free. And rather then releasing her from his grip, he squeezed her hand, briefly and just once, but it was enough for her to find the courage and face him. But instead of finding a frown or a scornful pair of eyes, his blinding smile made her forget to breathe for a moment.

“I had hoped you might say that.” And with that he pulled her into his arms again and continued swaying her to the music as if she had not just revealed her repulsive self to him. Her brain still a step behind, she couldn’t do anything but stare up at him stupidly.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” And when she shook her head like a petrified imbecile, an amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Because even though your behaviour was extremely infuriating, I have to admit that I like you. And asking you out on a date will be so much easier now that I know you like me too.”

With a violent jolt, the useless muscle inside her chest started to beat again, its heavy pounding filling her ears with white noise as the world around her started to spin. Unable to stop the motion, she felt herself leaning in, her nails digging into the undoubtedly expensive fabric of his jacket as she desperately tried to gain control over her unruly body.

“So, will you go out with me?”

It seemed like an eternity until she finally mustered the strength for a mechanical nod. Neither had she noticed in her struggle that he had stopped dancing, nor that the priceless look on her face had made his eyes and heart go soft for her.

“Great. That’s settled then. When are you free?”

It was only when he took a step back, taking his warmth with him as his hand slipped out of hers, that she snapped out of her trance.

“Now.”

“Now? Like right now?”

More like now as in before she could screw everything up again.

“Yes, why not? I know you have a busy schedule, so finding a date when we are both free might be tough. And above that, it is a beautiful summer evening.”

Had all those words really fallen from her mouth right now? Embarrassed about her lack of composure, her hand flew up to her mouth, making him smile again.

“I guess you have a fair point there.” And just like that, his hand was there again, fingers entwining slowly with hers like they had never been meant for anyone else. “All right then, let’s get out of here.”

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon @littleone65

#manuel neuer x reader #manuel neuer x you #manuel neuer fanfiction #manuel neuer #football au #manuel neuer fanfic #manuel neuer fic #manuel neuer imagine #manuel neuer rpf #assumptions

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littlemissagrafina · 3 years

Text

Comfortember Day 16. Protective

You Know Each Other? Yeah, We're Dating

@comfortember

Read On AO3

Peter hadn't known that a single comment on a Tumblr post could lead to this. Could lead to such a close and real relationship. He hadn't known but he is so grateful that it did.

He knew that people would say it was just young love, that it wouldn't last and that he and Harley didn't know what they were talking about when they said 'forever'. But they did know. They felt it with every message, every video, every call.

It was a connection that had happened almost instantly. They started talking on Tumblr after Peter had roasted someone who was spouting very distasteful views in the replies on a post where the OP said they had finally come out to their family and they were happy because they were accepted and supported. Said post turned out to have been posted by the one and only Harley Keener. Harley sent Peter a message, thanking him for jumping in to defend him even though they didn't know each other.

Peter answered with "Nobody should be put down and hated for who they are. I was just doing what I hope someone would do for me."

After that they started speaking once in a while, interacting on posts, tagging each other in games and asks as they got to know each other more and became closer.

Eventually they started talking on Discord instead of tumblr messaging. The change of platform seeming to boost their relationship a bit more with them now talking everyday. They shared parts of their lives, sending each other pictures and memes. They both favoured spamming each other with wholesome posts that they would find sometimes.

Harley sent Peter a selfie, saying that he wanted Peter to know what he looked like so that he had a face to connect the person to.

Peter loved that Harley trusted him enough to show him who he was and he said as much. But he also said that he wasn't ready to do the same.

Harley's answer was what made Peter realise that he had a crush on a boy that lived hundreds of miles across the country.

Harley had said, "That's okay, city boy. You don't have to do anything that you aren't comfortable or ready for. Oh! Ya wanna see my latest potato gun Mark?"

The text was so Harley that Peter couldn't help but smile. There was a seriousness to it from Harley recognizing and respecting Peter's boundaries before Harley diverted to something lighter.

It was a trust and openness that Peter only shared with a few people and it meant the world that he could have it with Harley as well.

---

When Peter eventually did feel comfortable to show himself to Harley, he decided that the best way to do it was a video call. They had called before but never video and he wanted to actually see Harley as face to face as they could get living so far apart.

What Petet didn't expect from the call was Harley's reaction. The other teen had blanked when he saw Peter, mumbling that he was cute before a flush spread across his cheeks when he realised that he had said it out loud.

"S-sorry." Harley had stuttered nervously. It was so endearing and unlike Harley but it made Peter happy to realise that maybe he wasn't the only one crushing on someone who lived more than ten hours away.

Peter opened his mouth to say that it was okay but he was cut off before he could by Harley speaking again.

The blue eyed boy fidgeted slightly, not quite looking at Peter. "Peter, I really like you. Like, like you. And I really don't wanna ruin us or make things weird but I didn't wanna hide it either. Seeing you just made me want to say it more and I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything."

Peter had gasped at him, a slow, shy smile spreading across his face. "You… you like me too? I was so worried that I was the one who would mess things up but we actually both like each other!" Pete had murmured shyly but excitedly and Harley's face had lit up.

"Yeah, I like you! You're just… you're Peter and you make me feel happy and that I can be me."

"You make me happy too." Peter smiled back. It was entirely too sappy and felt like it was from a movie scene but it was a moment that was theirs.

It was Harley's turn to get shy now. "Do you- would you maybe wanna try and be together?" He asked before rushing to speak again. "I know it'll be weird and hard at times but if you want to, I'd really like to try."

"Yes," Peter had beamed. "I'd love to try!"

And so they did.

It was strange to Peter how little actually changed between them. They still talked like they did, they still interacted and did things as together as they could online but they just felt closer somehow. They didn't change, they just became more in a way they didn't know how to explain.

Harley and Peter just both wished they could actually see each other in person. The calls and messages were amazing but they wanted nothing more than to finally be able to just hug each other and do things together.

It would be a surprise to them both that that wish would come true a lot sooner than later.

---

Harley was excited. He hadn't seen Tony in years, not since just before the Accords happened, but the man had surprised him and told him that he had called Harley's mom and spoken to her about Harley coming up to New York for the summer after school finished.

Not only was he excited to see Tony again, he was excited about Peter. Peter who lived in Queens, in New York. Peter who he could finally meet for the first time in person.

He couldn't wait.

---

Tony had it all planned out. He was going to fly Harley out on one of his jets and Happy was going to pick him up and bring him over to the tower.

He would show the kid his room that had been made up when Tony had made Peter's for him. They would eat dinner before they could disappear to the lab and tinker until Peter would join them after his evening patrol so that Tony could introduce them.

Although neither Peter or Harley knew that the other would be there that night. They knew of each other in passing, of course, but Tony hadn't told Peter that Harley was flying up (and neither had Harley, who wanted to surprise his boyfriend).

So you could imagine Tony's surprise when Peter walked down to the lab and all but froze when he spotted the other teen.

"Harley?!" Peter had yelped, surprise written across his face, at the same time that Harley did.

"Peter?! What are you doin' here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Rose Hill."

"Yeah and you're supposed to be in Queens where I was going to surprise you later but now it's ruined." Harley pouted.

Before either of them could carry on with their back and forth, Tony broke out of his shock and spoke up. "Wait, you two know each other?"

They turned to him, speaking in sync. "Yes. He's my boyfriend."

"So lemme get this straight," Tony said, ignoring Peter's mumbled I'm not. "You, Mr. Potato Head Keener, are in a relationship with my kid and didn't tell me?" Tony felt his protective side surge to life. It wasn't like Harley was a bad guy, not at all, but he was still dating Tony's kid and no matter how much he liked him, Tony still worried.

Harley smiled sheepishly at him. "In my defence I didn't know that he was the Peter that you always speak about."

"Me neither." Peter piped up. "I only realised that he was the potato gun dude from the Mandarin thing now when you called him the nickname." He turned to Harley. "Okay, I don't know how I didn't connect that last part, you speak about potato guns way too much."

Tony could only watch in slightly disturbed horror as Harley looked at Peter with what could only be heart eyes personified. "Yeah, you're pretty oblivious though, Darlin'."

"Whoa whoa whoa, can we get back to the part where you're dating my kid?" Tony felt like his brain was about to short circuit. Maybe he should have gone to sleep when Pepper actually told him too.

Harley looked at Tony, softening when he saw the obvious bewilderment and slight hardness in the man's eyes. "I won't hurt him. I can't promise that I won't accidentally or inadvertently hurt him but it will never ever be intentional. I never want to hurt anyone that I love, least of all Peter." Harley said firmly, a fire and determination in his eyes.

It gave Tony pause because he'd seen the same look in Pepper's eyes. They're so young but they already found their one.

It scared Tony but he was also grateful that they had found who they found. The both of them could and would definitely be good for each other, he couldn't deny it.

Realising he had been quiet a bit too long, Tony answered Harley. "I know, Harley, I just worry. I don't want either of you to be hurt in this."

Peter suddenly surged forward, pulling Harley with him so that he could hug his dad and boyfriend at the same time. "We know, Mr. Stark. Thank you for caring."

"Ditto." Harley murmured from where he was tangled with Peter and Tony.

"Always. I love you too, you know that right?"

"Yeah, we do."

Tony stood, content to hug the two boys he had come to care for much more than he had ever thought he could. Eventually they drew away from the hug and Tony looked at them.

"Now that that bombshell has dropped, you wanna get to tinkering?" He asked them and laughed when a chorus of Yes's rang out.

Peter dragged Harley to his workbench, immediately going into a mile a minute explanation about one of his projects laying on the workspace. Harley would chime in occasionally with a question or suggestion but otherwise he listened intently to Peter.

The heart eyes still firmly in place.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. This wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to him but it was definitely up there.

Well at least I don't have to worry about them getting along, Tony thought to himself.

#irondad #spiderson #parkner #comfortember 2020 #peter parker #harley keener #tony stark #ironman #spider-man #irondad fanfic #irondad fanfiction

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eliyah-de-dark · 4 years

Text

Two Lies and A Truth part 2

Turns out the Startrain can get a person from London to Paris in what feels like a matter of minutes. Marinette waited on the platform, alone in a crowd of commuters, with her wide brim hat pulled down low over her face. She wore her hair down, a countermeasure against any old friends who might recognize her style, and opted for an equally unfamiliar white and pink sundress. She'd originally made it for her dream date with Adrien. Now it would meet one of the only friends she had left.

The train from London pulled in, and Felix Graham de Vanily was the first off. He wore his signature dark gray three piece suit, a white shirt making his skin seemed more tanned. He scanned the crowd, forcing people to move around him as his vibrant green eyes searched for her.

She wove a path through the crowd and grabbed his hand. "Hey," she said weakly.

He froze, taking in her changed appearance before speaking. "Your hair looks nice." He touched just the tip of her blue hair, admiring the length. "What prompted the change?"

Marinette's smile dropped. "Don't want to be recognized." Her voice was almost imperceptible in the din of the station.

The pair walked out hand in hand, Felix's heart racing where Marinette's barely caught her attention. Together they wove their way through Paris. Their only pause was with Andre Glacier to get ice cream, Andre's idea not theirs. Finally their meandering brought them to the bakery where they first truly met.

Sabine and Tom waved to the kids as they went up into the apartment. Marinette noticed her mother's calculating look while Felix caught her father's questioning gaze. The young man thought their journey would end in the living room, but Marinette kept his hand in her own until they'd climbed up into her pink painted room. The walls were nearly bare, with the crumpled up pictures of Adrien in her waste basket. Felix took good note of that.

In the safety of her room, Marinette started talking. She repeated a lot of what Felix already knew: how her class had been turned, how the teacher punished her when it wasn't her fault, about how she had only 3 people left in the whole city she could trust. When she brought up the arrival of Suzette, he could tell from the stormy expression of her face that this girl did more than bother Marinette.

"What do you care if she's Ladybug?" Felix asked, waving his hand as if to present the situation on a platter. "Sounds like she'll prove herself wrong soon enough."

"But she's put the entire school in danger!" Marinette cried. She slumped onto her chaise and sighed. "If Hawkmoth thinks anyone in François Dupont is his arch nemesis..." She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to. Felix had seen the chaos akumas caused, and if it weren't for the Ladybug Cure, everyone in Paris would be dead ten times over.

He nodded, and Marinette sighed with relief. She wanted to tell him the real reason, that she was the one suffering stolen identity here, but she couldn't. She thought of Master Fu's threat. Being Ladybug was stressful, sure, but it was one of the best things in her life right now.

Their phones buzzed simultaneously. Felix had his out first, sparing Marinette the trouble. Nadia Chamack's face filled the screen completely. "Don't be bemused, it's just the news. On this special report, we have Alya Cesaire live in our studio to talk about a remarkable post she's put on her Ladyblog." The camera switched to show the red haired girl Marinette used to call friend. As the audience applauded, the pair in a pink room sat on Marinette's chaise.

"Thanks for having me, Madame Chamack." At least she had her manners. "I'm a big fan of yours."

Nadja laughed and made a little dismissive gesture. "If you're a fan of mine, then you know here at the station we love our Ladybug, and your blog has been a key source of information on her. Let's show the audience what you posted today that's sweeping our city!"

Nadia's large screens showed Alya close up in the frame, breathing heavily. "How unbecoming." Felix scrunched his nose in disgust while Marinette laughed.

The video showed Alya rushing back to her seat where across from her sat...Ladybug? The costume was fairly well made, superior to Chloe's in many ways. There was still the glaring issue of a zipper on the back and her mask slowly dropping on the left side.

The two began talking like old friends, Alya crediting Lila for getting the interview squared away. Felix watched Marinette as her face switched from shock to horror.

Once the Ladybug interview had wrapped up, Nadja began asking questions about the whos, whats, wheres and whens of the impromptu video. "Lila, my best friend," Alya emphasized that title like she knew Marinette was watching, "promised me an interview with LB, and it turns out Ladybug is wonderful in and out of costume!" She pasted a surprised look on her face and murmured, "Oh, I shouldn't have said that." in such a perfect copy of Lila that Marinette searched for a wig line or something.

"In and out of costume? Does that mean - hold on, you know who Ladybug is?" Nadja had real shock on her face, and if the camera had turned then Felix imagined the audience would have that same look too.

Alya smiled sweetly. "I couldn't say."

The interview continued, but Felix set his phone away. Marinette was shaking now, and he put an arm around her. She leaned on his shoulder, her body slowing to matching his heartbeat. He rested his head on top of hers and took a deep breath. She smelled like strawberries, glue, and mint.

Now he jumped up and paced. Her eyes followed back and forth as he moved, pausing every so often to muse on a particular idea.

"I've got it." He smiled, a devious grin that split his face like a demon.

Marinette listened with rapt attention.

"Blast Master, I am Hawkmoth. You want to expose the truth about Lila Rossi and save your friend. I'm giving you the power to control explo-"

"That's a no on the name."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Then beg."

"...what is happening?"

"Listen, you're right about why I'm pissed, and I'll gladly take the explosion power, but I'm not calling myself Blast Master."

"I...suppose?"

"Excellent, glad we're on the same page."

Suzette Lambert basked in the attention of her schoolmates like a cat basks in the sun. Lila was right, she mused, these idiots are too easy. Only two weeks and she had near god like worship. She almost didn't regret transferring out of her private English school.

The two people who didn't immediately succumb to her will were Chloe Bourgeois and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe made snide comments here and there but hardly went toe to toe with the new queen of the school. It helped that literally anytime she tried, either that nuisance Alya would snap at her or the teacher would gently redirect the class.

Her teal eyes caught sight of the little pariah, who'd snuck in early and taken her spot at the farthest desk in the room. Marinette never spoke. Not even when the teacher called on her. When she'd asked, Lila bemoaned, "Oh Mari? She's just the worst. She's always so mean to me and everyone hates her for it. I wouldnt even bother talking to her."

Suzette couldn't say it was hard to get on Lila's bad side, but that seemed a bit extreme. It all made sense after her little "slip-up" though.

It was the Italian's idea to say she was the heroine. "Trust me, no one will even question it." As much as Suzette hated to admit it, Lila was right. Everyone latched onto the biggest lie of her life and now the royal treatment was just a standard. The only bad reaction she got was Dupain-Cheng running out of the room. That was weird on so many levels, but Suzette ignored it.

Class was going smoothly until the volley of ringtones interrupted the lesson.

"An akuma?"

"It's just down the street!"

"Hold up Alix, let me see!"

Suzette checked her phone, lazily scanning the report of a dancing harlequin-style akuma moving steadily towards François Dupont.

"Go suit up, Suzette!"

She looked at Alya with a tired expression. "What?"

The reporter pointed her cellphone at Suzette. "Don't you need to transform? To defeat the akuma?" Her quizzical look spread like a virus through the class.

"I can't." She needed to think, quick. "The Guardian took my miraculous for safe keeping." She mentally congratulated herself for the excuse.

Nino spoke up next. "Why?"

"Repairs."

"Why would a miraculous need repairs?" And why was Kim of all people chiming in?

"Oh puh-lease." Now came Chloe Bourgeois. She sat on her desk and ignored Madame Bustier's reprimand as she continued. "Obviously she can't because she isn't Ladybug." Sabrina nodded vigorously, the nasty little cockroach.

Alya naturally spoke next, loud enough to give the queen standing next to her a headache. "No one asked you, Chloe." She snapped. "Why dont you keep your opinions to yourself?"

"Why dont you you little gossip rag wannabe?"

Wow, Suzette thought. That's an interesting shade of red in Alya's face.

Chloe turned those sky blue eyes back to her rival. "What form does your miraculous take? Or better yet, what's mine?" She leaned forward, her head tilted as if to listen for an answer.

Suzette crossed her arms. "Why would I care about yours?"

"Because you're the one that gives it to me, Ladybug. And I know for a fact if you were the real Ladybug, you would've kept your mouth closed about your identity."

No one noticed Marinette in the back of the room staring wide eyed at Chloe.

"Who are you to talk to me like that?!" Suzette yelled. Lila grabbed her arm, locking her in place. "You're just the mayor's spoiled brat who only cares about herself!" Chloe smiled at Suzette's words. The audacity.

"Maybe, but at least I'm honest."

Another insult began forming in the mind of the false Ladybug when the door came off its hinges with an explosion.

((@goblinwhoships @ml-cartoons @enchanted-nerd since you three specifically requested being tagged, here you go))

((Yeah so people really seemed to like part one. That's pretty hekking neat. Hopefully part 2 can live up to the hype))

#fanfic #ml #ml ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felinette #felix de vanily #adrein agreste #adrien you dunce #chloe bourgeois #lila salt #lila rossi #oc #suzette lambert #part 2

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just-my-sickly-pride · 4 years

Text

The Night Comes Down || Brian May x fem!Reader x Roger Taylor

summary || one of the first rules you’d ever made with brian, your friends-with-benefits, eight months ago, was that anyone could back out of the arrangement at any time, for whatever reason, and then everything would go back to normal. back to how it was. and that’s fine. you have no problem with that. you’re fine. you’re so fine. it’s... fine.

rating || no smut, but some implied explicit content. warning: there is a brief scene where reader is being heavily pressured into kissing someone at a party.

word count || 9.7k

author’s notes || all good things must come to an end! so i’ve been working on this series for over a year. how did that even happen?? anyway yes this is the end of the try series. no it’s not a happy ending. i debated back and forth for a long time whether to end the series or not, but it felt too weird not to. and i couldn’t figure out any reasonable ‘happy’ way for it to end. a big big big thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me for this entire journey, or part of this journey, or even if you’re just tuning in now - thank you! and if you’re still somehow invested in this little ’verse after all this time, don’t abandon me just yet 👀 p.s. i think i’ve ironed out most of the timeline issues but don’t look too closely. this series is not my proudest in terms of continuity

masterlist

tag list: @the-huttslayer @scorpiogemini @redspecialty @supersonicfreddie @killer-queen-xo @a-night-at-the-0pera @rogerscupboard

Part of you had known it was inevitable. Another part of you liked to pretend that it wasn’t. But it was.

It still felt like it had come out of nowhere, though.

Brian was watching you cautiously, adjusting the grip on his laptop and workbook. “Did you… want to say anything, or…?”

“Um…” You blinked a couple times, and shook your head. “Uh, no, I’m just… surprised?”

“I feel like I’ve mentioned her a few times,” Brian said.

“Once or twice, maybe,” you said. “I didn’t know that you and her…”

“Yeah.” Brian scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, we hooked up, like, two weeks ago, and then again a few nights ago, and we’ve been talking every day, so.”

“Oh.” It sounded twisted, wonky, but you forced a smile onto your face, wondering why you felt so… uncomfortable hearing about this. “That’s great. And you like her?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Brian said, and his voice sounded warm, and he had a little smile on his face, and something ugly and strange twisted in your gut. “And I want to take her on an actual date, but obviously, I’d feel a bit weird about it if I still had, y’know. A, uh, side arrangement. But you’re all right?”

“Of course,” you said brightly. Side arrangement. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? That’s great, Brian, really. I’m – really glad you’ve found someone.”

“It’s been a while, that’s for sure,” Brian said with a chuckle.

“Are you going to tell Rog?”

Brian frowned a little. “Um, no, I don’t think that’s necessary. I never had – anything with him. And he’s already met Dani, so.”

“Oh!” Ah, Christ, that had sounded dreadful, even to your own ears. “Where– Where’d he meet her?”

“The other day.” Brian gave you a sheepish smile. “The morning after. She ran into him in the kitchen.”

You pushed a strained laugh out of you. “Oh, right, yeah, great.”

Brian chuckled as well. “Yeah, it was a little awkward, but what can you do, right?”

You swallowed, and nodded. Your face hurt from smiling.

“You’ll love her,” Brian said. “She’s wonderful. She’s so smart, and funny, and she’s so pretty. I mean, so pretty. Absolutely beautiful. Completely knocked my socks off when I first saw her. Can’t believe she fancies me.”

“Great,” you said. You were saying great too much. “She sounds–” Don’t. “–so great.”

“She is.” Brian beamed. “You’ll have to meet her soon.”

“I’m sure I will,” you said.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Brian said. He sighed happily. “Well, I should head off.”

“Yeah, course,” you said. “Me too.”

“I’ll message you,” Brian said. “We can arrange a dinner at the flat or something.”

“Can’t wait!”

Brian smiled, nodded in satisfaction, and then said, “All right, see you later.”

“Bye!” You turned around and hurried away, in the opposite direction you needed to go.

Hmm. Huh. Right. Okay. So. Brian just. He just.

You went to the food court and sat down at the first available seat you could find.

You took out your phone and immediately went to message Veronica.

Brian just

Your thumbs paused.

He just what? He just found someone he wanted to date, and ended his arrangement with you. On paper, not that big of a deal. It was part of the unwritten contract of it all: any person was allowed to end things for whatever reason, and there would be no consequences. A rule you had written yourself, all those months ago.

Side arrangement. Side piece. Dirty secret. Not as good as the real thing. Not as funny or smart or pretty or wonderful or beautiful as Danielle.

You froze. Whoa, where had that come from?

You weren’t jealous. You couldn’t have been jealous. You’d never wanted to date Brian. You still didn’t want to date Brian. You didn’t have a crush on him, and you never had. Brian didn’t break up with you.

So what the everloving fuck was going on in your head right now?

You put your phone away. Nope, you couldn’t go crying to Veronica for no damn reason. This had always been bound to happen, and now it had, so you just needed an hour or so to process it, and then things would be fine. You’d go back to normal.

Your idea of ‘normal’ seemed to greatly differ from Brian’s.

You didn’t hear from him for a week. Whereas before you’d talked every other day, he went almost totally radio silent. Every meme or message you sent was either seen and ignored, or responded to with a vague Haha or a thumbs-up.

You met up with Roger on your usual catch-up night, but you hadn’t gotten very far into anything before he stopped and said, “You’re not really feeling it, are you?”

You made a face. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He passed your shirt to you, and he fetched his from the floor and slipped it on. “So… Brian has a date tomorrow night.”

You frowned. “He does?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t tell you about it?”

You looked down at your hands. “Um, no. He didn’t. I haven’t heard much from him, actually. After he… ended… things.”

“Whoa,” Roger said, climbing onto the bed. “Wait, really? With you?”

You nodded, and suddenly felt your throat close over. But you were not going to fucking cry about it, Jesus Christ. You swallowed it down, and gave Roger a mild look of interest. “Yeah. I didn’t even know he liked Dani, and then I ran into him at uni last week, and he just sort of said, ‘Hey, while I’m here,’ and then that was it. But I didn’t know the date was tomorrow night. He didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sure he was just distracted,” Roger said. “He gets like that with a girl he likes.” He shook his head. “Damn, he must be serious about her.”

“Yeah, must be.”

Roger paused, and then said, “Are you… okay?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno, it’s a pretty big… thing to have ended.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said lightly, giving him a smile. “We’re still friends. And I’ve still got you, right?”

“Yeah,” Roger said, although he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Yeah. So I’m good.” You sighed, willing away all the gross mess of emotions you were feeling. “I’m not really feeling going all the way, but making out sounds good, if you’re down.”

Luckily, that immediately distracted Roger, and he didn’t ask any further questions. And you poured everything you had into your kisses, hoping it would distract you, too.

You were hoping things would settle down for you, emotionally, over the next two weeks or so.

But that didn’t happen. Everything grew to be so much worse. Exponentially. You didn’t know whether you hated Brian, or Dani, or hated them as a couple, or if you just hated yourself. You couldn’t bear to be in the same room as the two of them, and you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to Dani. The thought of trying to be friends with her turned your stomach. She wasn’t particularly annoying, and she wasn’t a bad person in any way, but just something about her face and her voice and her fucking presence in your life just infuriated you.

You couldn’t get the idea out of your head that she looked like a mouse. Or a rat. Small pointy nose, big dark eyes, slight buck teeth. She was curvy, and at least a foot shorter than Brian, although it was hard to tell with the heels and platforms she always wore. Her hair was browny-blonde and long and thick, and she wore it slicked back in a pony, like Ariana Grande. Her ears glittered with delicate piercings. She liked to draw on freckles.

She was pretty. For a rat.

You did your best to hide how you felt about her. You thought you should’ve gotten a freaking Oscar for how well you hid it. At least from Brian. On the rare occasion that Dani wasn’t by his side, you let him talk about her, and did your best to seem encouraging.

There was a part of you – a bigger part than you wanted to admit – that believed they were going to break up soon enough. Then things could go back to normal, and this weird hiccup could be forgotten.

But they didn’t break up. They stayed together.

And so you ended up ranting about it all to Veronica. You knew you were really going on about it, and somehow you kept finding things to say about the situation when you knew there was nothing really more to say. Veronica listened, to a degree. But her advice was sensible and responsible and mature and you really didn’t feel like being any of those things. You wanted to throw a goddamn tantrum.

So you turned to Roger. Thank God for his high sex drive.

He wasn’t completely clueless. You had an air of desperation about you that you knew he could sense, and knowing that was almost enough to make you draw away from him, too.

Almost. But he always took such good care of you. It was selfish to keep asking him to meet up, but you felt like you would explode if you didn’t.

About a month after Brian and Dani had started dating, you and Roger were making out on the couch. It was rough, as sex frequently had been these past few weeks, and Roger’s grip on your waist was bruising as you rocked against him. Things were moments away from moving to the bedroom, when the front door opened unexpectedly.

You quickly looked up, a deer in headlights, and your stomach dropped.

“Oh, sorry,” Brian mumbled, ducking his head.

“No, it’s fine,” you said, and you’d tried to go for nonchalant, but your voice came out too sharp.

Roger tilted his head back. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Brian said. You watched as he kicked his shoes off and chucked his keys on the kitchen table.

“Sorry,” he said again, shooting you a quick glance. “I’ll just, uh…”

He hurried to his room.

There you were, looking already thoroughly debauched, on his couch, in Roger’s lap, and Brian had just ducked his head and ran.

You stared after him, your heart twisting around itself. He hadn’t even… He didn’t…

Once, he would have taken one look at you and pounced on you. He would’ve begged to kiss you, would’ve torn your clothes off.

Now, he acted like he’d walked in on Roger having a one-night stand with some girl he’d picked up at a bar. He acted like he’d never even been attracted to you at all.

Was it really so easy for him to move on? Were you really that forgettable?

“You all right?” Roger asked, his thumb touching your bottom lip.

You snapped to look at him. Shit, how much had you let on? “Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Just lost in my thoughts, nothing important.”

“You sure?” Roger asked.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Mm-hm. How about you take me to your room and fuck all those stupid little thoughts out of me?”

Roger paused for a moment, like he wanted to say something more, but your tongue darted out, lapping at the pad of his thumb, and you kept your eyes on his as you licked his thumb into your mouth. You watched, half excited, half relieved, as his eyes glazed over, his gaze fixated on your lips around his thumb.

It sickened you to even think about it, but you definitely had a little voice in the back of your head that hoped Brian could hear Roger fucking you.

“We should hang out,” you said to Brian. Just over a month, now. Final exams were breathing down everyone’s necks. It didn’t help your situation. “I feel like I never get to see you anymore. You’re with your girlfriend all the time.”

You’d run into him at uni. That was almost the only way you got to see him these days. And he no longer hugged you hello or goodbye, just kept a firm, amicable amount of distance between you.

He didn’t often look you in the eye these days, either. He shifted about whenever you talked, like he wanted to be somewhere else.

“Mm, yeah, maybe,” he said.

You swallowed down the hurt. “How about a movie night? Or we could just hang out, just the two of us.”

“Um.” Brian scratched his nose. “I’m pretty busy at the moment. Maybe we could do a group thing? That’d be fun. Me and Dani, John and Veronica, you and Rog.”

You frowned. “Me and Rog?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not together.”

Brian shrugged. “I just thought– Well, I think it’d be nice. You two suit each other.”

“We don’t want to be a couple, Brian. What are you on about?”

“I just think it’d be good for you, that’s all. Being in a relationship is, well, really nice, and I think maybe you and Rog should at least give it a go.”

You were gobsmacked. You wanted to throw something, yell a stern reminder of, Hey, are you fucking stupid? Do you not remember the past eight months of our lives where you seemed perfectly content to not be in a relationship? Remember how many times the two of us were hounded by our friends about dating? You fucking hypocrite.

But you didn’t say any of that. There was an unspoken rule that neither of you ever brought up your old arrangement. It was as if it had never existed.

Most of the time, it seemed like Brian wished it hadn’t. Like it was some embarrassing secret.

“Well, we don’t want that, so you can mind your own business,” you said. “And where does Freddie fit into your little equation, anyway?”

Brian shrugged again. “He could bring a date along as well, I don’t know.”

“We’re not going on a– a quadruple date. Jesus.”

“Just an idea,” Brian muttered.

“You can still hang out with friends without your girlfriend, you know.”

Brian sighed. “Okay. Well.”

You sighed as well, gathering yourself. You tried again. “What about a party, or something? We haven’t been to a party in forever.”

Brian hesitated. “Well, one of Dani’s friends is having a party this weekend.”

Not exactly what you’d meant. “Maybe a little group of us could go?” you suggested. “If Dani’s all right with it? That could be fun.”

Brian nodded to himself. “Yeah,” he said mildly. “Yeah, that could work. I’ll ask her.”

“Great,” you said with a smile that you most certainly had to force onto your face. You began making a quick retreat, not waiting for him to formulate an excuse. “Text me, okay?”

“Yep,” he said, and you could tell he was already forgetting about it completely.

But, to your surprise, that weekend, you got a text from him. Dani said it’s all right if you and the others want to come along.

Your lip curled. It hardly sounded like Brian wanted any of you there. great, you replied. pres at yours?

I’ll actually be having pres at Lachlan’s, Brian sent. He’s one of Dani’s friends. But I’ll send you the details of the party and I’ll see you there.

But no one else wanted to come.

“No thanks,” Roger grumbled. “I’ve met some of Dani’s friends. They’re all complete wankers.”

“But I don’t want to go alone,” you whined.

“Ask Freddie. He’s always down for a good time.”

I can’t darling, Freddie texted. work early the next day. they said if I turn up hung-over or still drunk one more time they’ll fire me

u don’t have to get that drunk, you replied hopefully. just drink a bit and then go home early

then what would be the point of going lol?? Freddie sent.

“Sorry,” Veronica said. “Studying.”

You sulked. “You can’t afford to take a break just for a couple hours?”

“No. And, honestly, I don’t want to enable whatever thing you’re going through right now. I think getting drunk around Brian would be a bad idea.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “I just want an excuse to hang out as friends, okay? That’s all. It’s not enabling, it’s supporting.”

Veronica made a sound that told you she disagreed. You huffed and gave up. What did she know, anyway?

“Hey, Dea–”

“I’m not going to that party tonight,” John cut in smoothly, not even looking up from his textbook.

“But–”

“I’d rather sever my own foot.” He glanced up at you, giving you an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry. I just can’t stand being around Brian and Dani. They’re insufferable.”

At least that you could agree with.

everyone else is busy, you texted Brian. You bit your lip, debating whether to ask, but, damn it, fuck it all – can I come to lachlan’s pres and go with u guys?

It took him two hours to reply. Yeah, sure.

You felt sick. This was a bad idea.

It was by far too much trouble for what it was worth to get to Lachlan’s. You were terrified of turning up before Brian and Dani, so you arrived two and a half hours after when you were meant to be there.

That was better. It was easier to rock up when everyone was already pissed.

And they were very much pissed. Lachlan answered the door. He was tall and stocky, with brown hair and blue eyes. The sort of guy who looked like he’d played some kind of contact sport in high school, probably football, but now didn’t have a regular training schedule, and so was slowly losing the muscle he’d once had, replacing it with beer and burgers. The sort of guy who’d lose all of his hair by the time he was thirty-five, and get married so he’d have someone to get his beers for him when he was watching the game with the boys. The sort of guy who wanted kids because he liked the thought of telling people he had a couple of boys, rather than actually wanting to be a father.

Or maybe you were making a snap-judgement.

You introduced yourself, and he gave you a lopsided, skeezy grin, letting you into his place. “You here all on your own?” he asked.

Your shoulders tensed. “No,” you said. “I’m a friend of Brian’s. Dani’s new boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I know that. But you don’t have anyone to bring along with you?”

“Not tonight,” you said vaguely. “Busy schedules. Finals aren’t too far away, and all that.”

“Yeah, sick,” Lachlan said, looking you up and down. “Well.” He gestured with his beer to the crowd. “Make yourself at home.” He shot you another grin that made your hands grow clammy. “I’m glad Dani brought you along. Can’t wait to get to know you.”

You gave him an uneasy smile in return, and frantically looked for Brian and Dani. You found them – Dani was sitting on Brian’s lap, yuck – and fled from Lachlan.

“Hi,” you said.

“Oh, hey,” Brian said, and you could tell right off the bat he’d had a bit to drink already. His hand was splayed over Dani’s thigh, holding her to him, and you couldn’t bear to look at it. “Thought you weren’t gonna come.”

“I’m just late,” you said. “Hello, Dani.”

She gave you a polite smile, but didn’t try to engage in conversation.

Brian didn’t even notice. He squeezed Dani a little bit closer. “Well, you gonna drink?” he said.

Yes. Yes, you were. You held up your plastic bottle filled with Sprite and too much vodka. “Yep.”

Brian gave you a thumbs-up.

Dani turned to him. “Just need to go to the bathroom, baby,” she murmured, tapping his hand.

“All right, baby,” Brian murmured back, and you only just stopped yourself from making a face. The word baby sounded clunky, uncomfortable coming from Brian. “Be careful.”

Dani leant in for a kiss, and you turned away, uncapping your bottle and taking a decent swig, grimacing at the burn.

Brian didn’t like pet names. You knew he didn’t like pet names. And yet this ‘baby’ thing had sprung out of nowhere, and it drove you up the fucking wall.

You listened until the sound of Dani’s heels against the floorboards faded before you spoke. “‘Be careful’,” you muttered.

“What?” Brian said.

“She’s just walking to the toilet,” you said. “Not like she’s gonna get assaulted on the way.”

Brian looked mildly annoyed. “I just don’t want her to trip and fall over and hurt herself. She’s a lightweight, and she’s wearing heels. I’m just… trying to be a good boyfriend.”

You sighed. “Yeah, okay,” you said, not wanting to hear a word of it. You took another hefty swig of your drink. “I think I’ll, um, join the rest of the party.”

So much for hanging out with Brian. You wanted to be near him, wanted to talk to him, but you couldn’t bear it for more than five minutes.

You knew what it was – you wanted to talk to him how you used to. But you couldn’t do that anymore. Instead you had some weird, watered-down version of the Brian you knew.

You joined in half-heartedly with a few drinking games, but quickly discovered that you weren’t really in the mood for getting smashed anyway.

Brian and Dani stayed in their own little corner, giggling and whispering with each other, kissing and cuddling and being generally disgusting.

You didn’t even think they’d bother coming to the actual party. But they did, and the group of fifteen or so people in Lachlan’s sharehouse all staggered along the street for about ten minutes to get to the main event.

You’d managed to get along well enough with some of the girls, and Lachlan wouldn’t leave you alone, so you had no choice but to socialise. Which was good, in a way, because you lost Dani and Brian as soon as you walked into the party.

Not that you particularly liked the girls you were talking to. Everyone just had such a weird vibe, like they weren’t sure if they could be bothered to talk to you, but also felt obliged to make you feel welcome. They kept bursting into laughter and you had no idea why, and no one bothered to explain the jokes. But then they complimented your outfit and asked you how your day had been, and they listened with encouraging nods and wide eyes of interest when you answered. Until someone said something that they found more interesting, and then they turned away from you when you were halfway through a sentence. It was off-putting, to say the least; you couldn’t seem to find your footing.

Lachlan, however, was the icing on the cake. The sour, out-of-date icing on the stale cake. He flirted with you incessantly, either not picking up your clear signals that you weren’t interested, or just ignoring them. The others weren’t helping, either, egging the two of you on. A whole lot of wink-wink-nudge-nudge that you were not enjoying at all.

You should’ve just gone home. You didn’t know why you didn’t just leave.

But, for some reason, you stayed. Maybe you hoped that Brian would see your discomfort and come and talk to you – not that you’d seen him for the past hour – or that this strange group of people would want to talk with their friend Dani, and you’d be able to swoop in and catch up with Brian without Dani hanging around awkwardly.

Whatever it was, it was a stupid reason.

And then came truth or dare.

You didn’t want to play, but you were roped into it regardless. There was a rule, you found out, that you were allowed to back out of one truth or dare, and you had to drink if you did so – but only the once, so you had to choose wisely. Someone dared you to show everyone what underwear you were wearing.

Needless to say, you drank instead.

You could tell that no one was very impressed with any of the dares or questions you came up with, even though your friendship group loved your questions and dares. This group seemed to like the brainless shit – if it was gross, or sexual, or nasty in any way, they were all over it. Barely anyone chose ‘truth’.

Then it was Lachlan’s turn, and he turned to you. He grinned, and your stomach sank to the floor. “Dare you to kiss me,” he drawled, and the crowd gasped and ooh’d dramatically.

You didn’t even hesitate to snatch up your cider, but Lachlan quickly said, “You’ve already drunk, you can’t do it twice.”

“Well, I’m doing it twice,” you snapped, and took a swig.

You received jeers and boos for that, and Gina, the girl beside you, took your beer from your hand and said, “You can’t do that!”

“You gotta kiss me, that’s the rules,” Lachlan said above the sounds of everyone else.

“I don’t want to,” you said, your voice wavering.

“You have to,” said Savannah. “You have to, you have to, it’s the rules.”

“Come on,” said – whatever her fucking name was. “Stop being such a pussy, just get it over with.”

Lachlan was starting to look a bit pissed off by now. “Fucking hell, just come and kiss me,” he said. “Don’t be a bitch about it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel your hands starting to shake. “Jesus – no, all right? I don’t want to,” you snapped.

The room felt too loud, too stuffy, too overwhelming.

“Lachlan, just think of something else,” you said.

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Gina complained. “Just do something else.”

“No, I gave you a dare already,” Lachlan said sourly. “It’s not even that big of a deal, like, I don’t even know what the problem is.”

“If she doesn’t want to-”

“That’s the fucking rules,” Lachlan said, throwing his hands in the air like you were the one being unreasonable. “Is that not the fucking rules? Goddamn.”

“Okay, then just kiss him already,” said whatever-the-fuck-her-name-was, waving you over. “Whatever, just hurry up.”

“I’m fucking bored with this shit already,” Savannah said. “Just kiss him or don’t kiss him, whatever. God, this party sucks.”

“It doesn’t suck, she’s just being a bitch,” Lachlan protested.

“Don’t call me a bitch,” you said.

“I’m just teasing,” Lachlan said, crawling over to you. You shrunk away from him, your heart beating like a cantering horse, and he grabbed your wrist. “One kiss, c’mon,” he said, his voice light and friendly, like you were happy to play along.

But you weren’t happy to play along. You didn’t know if everyone was too drunk to notice your obvious discomfort, or they didn’t care, but this was crossing the goddamn line.

“Fuck off, Lachlan,” you said, trying to pull your wrist back. You’d wanted your voice to be tough, to be assertive, but it was small and weak, and then Lachlan leant in for a kiss.

You turned your face away. “Lachlan–”

“Just fucking kiss me, for God’s sake, woman,” Lachlan growled, and grabbed your face with his other hand.

You pushed his hand away, and, without thinking, blurted out the one word that your panicked brain told you would stop everything in its tracks: “Nickleback.”

“What?” Lachlan said, and, good fucking God, of course that wouldn’t work, you were such a fucking idiot, and now you had no back-up plan, nothing else to do, and that word was supposed to stop things, why wasn’t it stopping things–

But then Lachlan was gone, and you felt a hand grab your other wrist and yank you up from the floor, and you unthinkingly leant into the body the hand belonged to as you were led from the room and into a bedroom, and the noise around you became muffled as the door closed behind you.

Then Brian was setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you. In an ideal world, he would have wrapped his arms around you and you would’ve been able to breathe again, like in a movie, but instead there was an awkward amount of space between you as he gingerly asked, “Are you all right?”

You barely even snuck a glance at him. You were humiliated by what had just happened, humiliated by needing him to rescue you, humiliated by your desperate craving for his touch, his comfort. You stared at the floor, curling in on yourself, and you nodded silently. Your hands still shook from adrenaline, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Brian sighed. “I’m sorry about them. I didn’t know…”

You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you mumbled.

Brian said nothing for a while, and then he reached over and patted you on the back. So achingly unfamiliar, and you felt your shoulders grow even more hunched than they already were. You didn’t think he’d ever touched you like that. Like you were a complete stranger.

You ducked your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Brian said, “Yeah?”

You glanced up to see Dani poke her head in, and you quickly looked away again. “Hey, baby,” she said.

Your stomach crawled.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Brian said.

“All right,” Dani said. You could feel her hovering awkwardly.

Brian said your name, catching your attention, and then said, “I’ll just… let you have some time to yourself, all right?”

You said nothing. You did nothing. And Brian stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“What happened?” came Dani’s voice from just outside the door.

“Lachlan was harassing her,” Brian said.

“They were just playing,” Dani said. “They’re all drunk, it’s just truth or dare.”

“No, I know, but…”

“You didn’t have to run in there like there was a fire and pull her out of there like that. Everyone’s going to ask me what that was all about. Where did that come from?”

Your ears were straining to hear Brian’s response.

“I… I just knew she needed to get out,” he said eventually.

“She could have left if she was uncomfortable.”

“She gets really anxious sometimes, she just freezes.”

You realised, then, that he must’ve heard you say ‘Nickleback’. He must have heard it and immediately known that something was wrong.

You groaned quietly to yourself, covering your face with your hands. Your ex-friend-with-benefits had heard you yell out your old safeword in the middle of a party, and had felt obliged to rush in like a knight in shining armour to swoop you to safety. Jesus Christ.

“She’s an adult, baby,” Dani said. “I’m sure she was fine.” You heard someone sigh. “It’s sweet that you guys are friends, but you don’t have to…”

“What?”

“Look out for her that much.”

“What do you mean? She’s my friend.”

Dani was silent for a while. “Did you guys used to…?”

The air was sucked from the room. Your ears strained to hear every word.

“What?” Brian said, clearly thrown.

“Did you used to date? It just seems like…”

“No,” Brian said quickly. “No, we never dated.”

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No, baby. I promise you, we never dated.”

You grimaced.

Someone sighed again. “Okay,” Dani said. “Good. The last thing I’d want is for you to be friends with an ex.”

Brian chuckled. It sounded forced. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m glad we agree. Gimme a kissy?”

You could’ve thrown up right then and there. A kissy?

You could hear them murmuring to each other, and Dani’s voice had a particular whiny, baby-talk tone to it that made you want to ‘accidentally’ open the door into the both of them. But then they left, and you were even more alone than before, and you lay down on the bed and curled into a ball, feeling sorry for yourself.

It was time to go home.

By the grace of God himself, Brian offered to wait outside with you, sitting beside you on the kerb, while you called a ride home. Dani stayed inside with her friends.

“I’m sorry about… what happened,” Brian said, and you went still as a statue.

“What do you mean?” you said softly.

“Lachlan, and all of that.”

You let out a breath. “Oh,” you said. “Yeah, that. It’s fine.”

Silence. It wriggled under your skin like cockroaches.

You wanted to touch Brian. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted Roger there, too. You wanted them to want you, like they used to. You wanted to be allowed to want them like they used to love.

But Roger wasn’t there. And Brian barely was, either.

“Brian?” Dani called from the front door.

Brian twisted around. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh, okay. Just checking everything’s good.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Still waiting for the car.”

“Okay. See you inside.”

“Yep.”

“Miss you, baby.”

Brian chuckled. “Miss you too.”

You waited until Brian had turned back around to face the road, and then blurted out, “Why do you let her call you that? You hate pet names.”

Brian frowned, looking to you. “What?”

“Pet names. You hate them.”

“I don’t hate them,” he said.

“You don’t like them, at least.”

“According to who?”

“According to you,” you said. “You told me. And you never–” You never called me anything but my name when we were fucking. “You never said you liked them.”

“Well, I do,” Brian said. “And why do you care, anyway?”

“I just think it’s weird,” you said, and you were aiming for casual but you knew you sounded brash. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend the whole time we’ve known each other,” Brian said. “You don’t know what I’m like when I’m in a relationship.”

“You shouldn’t change who you are when you’re in a relationship,” you said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not changing who I am,” Brian said, his face pinched. “What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” you said harshly. “I just think you’re lying to yourself. You don’t like calling her baby, and you don’t like being called baby, and I just think it’s weird that you wouldn’t just say that.”

“Well, I just think it’s weird you think you have the right to comment on my relationship,” Brian said. “I like calling her baby. And I like it when she calls me baby.”

“But you don’t,” you insisted. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“What?” Brian exclaimed. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“I know you, okay?” you snapped. “I know you far better than she does. And I know you don’t like pet names, but you won’t tell her for some reason.”

“I won’t tell her because I like them,” Brian said. “And she knows me, too, you know.”

“She’s known you for, like, two months! Less than!” you said. “That’s nothing.”

“Why…” Brian floundered. “There isn’t some – time limit on these things. You can’t judge if someone knows someone better just by how long…”

“I just don’t get it,” you said. “Maybe that’s my fault, but I don’t get how someone can just walk into your life and suddenly they’re the most important person you’ve ever met when you’ve only known them for five minutes.”

“You’ve clearly never fallen in love,” Brian said snootily.

“Oh, fuck off,” you scoffed. “You’re not in love with her.”

“How would you know?”

“You’ve only been dating a couple weeks! Come on, Brian. You can call each other baby all you like, but I know you.”

“I like pet names,” Brian said, his voice hard. “I just never called you one because, in case you’ve forgotten, you were never my fucking girlfriend. So, for the love of God, can you stop acting like a jealous ex.”

It was like a stab to the gut and a twist of the knife all at the same time. All you could do was sit in stunned silence.

Brian looked at you, almost like he was waiting for a response, and when he never received one, he sighed, stood, and left.

Your chin wobbled, your vision blurred, and you scrabbled for your phone in your handbag.

Roger opened the door. “Hey–”

You leapt onto him, kissing him furiously. He stumbled, but kept his balance, one arm curling around your waist and the other groping for the door, pushing it closed. You spun him around and backed him up, pressing him against the door, and ducked your head to suck at his neck, palming at him through his sweatpants.

Roger jumped. “Oh, God, okay,” he said with a surprised laugh. “You’re really…”

You nodded, and captured his lips again, nipping at his bottom lip. “I want you so bad,” you breathed. “I want you to fuck me hard, Daddy, please.”

You didn’t wait for him to reply, and kissed him. You slipped your hands into his underwear, and he tensed underneath you, surprised again.

You needed him to fuck you, to bruise you, to bite you. To make you feel wanted, needed. To mark you up, to make you scream, to make it hurt. You needed it so badly that your hands shook.

Roger put a hand to your collarbones, and you thought he was going to choke you, but instead he pushed you back, just enough to stare into your face.

“Are you sure you want to call me Daddy?” he asked unsurely. “You seem a little…”

“What?” you said.

“Not yourself,” Roger said. “Are you– Have you been drinking?”

“The fuck does that mean?” you said. “I just really need you to fuck me hard, does that not sound like me?”

“I don’t–”

“Roger,” you cut in sharply, and then quickly softened your tone into something whinier, needier, more enticing. “Daddy. I want you. Please.”

Roger’s frown never disappeared. “I don’t want you to call me Daddy,” he said.

You blinked, taken aback. “Um, okay,” you said. You could still work with that. “No Daddy.” You went to kiss him again, but he held you away.

You resisted huffing in frustration. “Roger…”

“This is about Brian, isn’t it?” he said.

“What?” you said. “No. Why would it be about Brian? I want you.”

“You’re drunk and upset and jealous, and you want me to fuck you how he used to fuck you, because you miss it.”

A slap to the face would’ve hurt less. Your hands fell limp at your sides. “What?”

“Is that not what’s happening right now?” Roger said, his hands dropping as well. “Is that not why you’re over? You went to that party, got yourself all worked up and upset, and now you want to be fucked how Brian used to fuck you?”

You blinked. “N– No,” you said, and you meant it, but the more Roger said it, the more you thought that maybe he was right, and you hadn’t even realised.

“Because it’s what it feels like,” Roger said. “It feels like I’m just an outlet for you. It’s not even about you and me anymore, it’s about you and him.”

Oh my God. You hated to admit it, but he was right. You covered your mouth with your hands, horrified at yourself. “Fuck, Roger, I…”

“I’m ending the arrangement between us,” he said simply. “It’s not fun anymore, and it’s definitely not healthy. You need time to… I don’t even know. But you need time, and I don’t really feel like being collateral damage. Especially not with end-of-year exams literally just around the corner.”

No. No, no, no, fuck, not this, anything but this.

“No, Rog, please, I’m sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t thinking, I– I can’t–” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “Please. I…”

Roger sighed, and pulled you into a hug. You clutched onto him, and, finally, cried. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured sympathetically, stroking your hair. “This whole thing has really messed you up, hasn’t it?”

“I c– can’t lose you t– too,” you sobbed into his shirt.

“You’re not losing me. We’re still friends. It just… won’t be with the benefits anymore. For now, at least. Maybe forever, I don’t know. See how things go. But I’m never going to stop being friends with you.”

Your body shook as you cried, and Roger rubbed your back, letting you ruin his shirt.

The Bee Movie played on the TV, but your heart wasn’t in it. You leant against Roger, a cup of tea in your hands, and one in his. You were exhausted from crying, and you almost found yourself nodding off. Normally there was nothing more fun than enjoying the trials and tribulations of Barry B. Benson with Roger, but now not even casual bestiality was enough to cheer you up.

Roger didn’t say much, either. You had no idea what he was thinking, although you were pretty sure he wasn’t really watching the movie, just staring at the screen.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice breaking a little.

Roger sighed. “It’s okay,” he said, giving you a soft, sad smile. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now.”

“I don’t even understand why,” you said, your bottom lip trembling. Not again. “I never liked him like that, not ever. I know I never liked him like that. I didn’t want to go out on dates with him, or be his girlfriend, or any of that. So I don’t get why it – hurts so much.”

“Your thing went on for a really long time,” Roger reasoned. “And now it’s gone. I can’t blame you. I…” He bit his lip. “I… kinda miss it too, to be honest.”

You frowned at him in confusion. “You miss… Brian?”

“I miss…” Roger took a sip of his tea. “I miss the dynamic, I suppose. We actually got a lot closer because of it. And it was fun, you know? Especially the threesomes, those were really fun.”

You managed a tired laugh.

“It was just nice to have… a thing, that was ours,” Roger said. “Us three, I don’t know. This thing that was ours. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“No, it does,” you said. You paused, and then said, “You and Brian aren’t as close now?”

Roger shrugged a shoulder. “Not… really?” he said unsurely. “We haven’t really hung out a lot recently. I mean, we’ve been studying a lot, so I haven’t really seen much of anyone as of late, but, like, for a while, me and Brian hung out a whole lot, just the two of us. Guess you end up feeling closer when you have to talk about your feelings all the time. And when you see each other naked every so often.” He shot you a smile, and you smiled back. “But now it’s sort of in a weird place. I mean, none of us have seen him a lot, he’s just with Dani all day and night. Which makes sense, they’re in their honeymoon phase. But I do miss… that.”

You nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t even feel like he wants to be around me,” you said in a small voice. “Like I’m not even friends with him anymore.”

“You are,” Roger assured you. “You just… both have to learn how to be… normal friends again.”

“And us too,” you added.

Roger blinked, but nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, us, too.”

You didn’t want to say it, you knew you shouldn’t say it, but the alcohol had loosened your tongue: “You gonna miss me?”

Roger’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he took a big breath in and out, shaking his head. “Damn,” he muttered.

“Sorry, ignore me,” you mumbled. “I’m just being sad and pathetic.”

“You’re not sad and pathetic,” Roger said. “But I’m not gonna miss you, you’ll still be around.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Roger said. He sighed again. “I don’t think… it would be good for either of us if I answered that.”

You said nothing. It felt like Roger wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

“But…” You looked to him, and he looked to you. “Can we still be friends like before?” you asked him. “I mean, just – with Brian, he won’t even hug me hello or goodbye, he barely looks at me, he doesn’t want to be near me, I just–” You shook your head. “I couldn’t stand it if you did that, too. Can we at least just be friends?”

Roger nodded. “Of course,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Yes, of course,” he said again. “I promise you, okay? I like hugs just as much as you do.”

You nodded, reassured. “Thank you.”

Roger threw his arm around you and gave you a squeeze, then took his arm back.

A month and a bit ago, he would’ve left his arm there, around your shoulders. You would’ve pressed closer into him. Probably eventually would’ve lifted your head to kiss his neck, or maybe your hands – or his hands – would’ve gone wandering.

But a squeeze was something, at least, and you were grateful for it. You told yourself you were grateful for it.

Three-ish months later

The air was just starting to cool, and, for the first time in a while, you pulled on a jacket.

It had been a while since you’d seen your flat. You’d gone home for the summer – not for the whole time, you still had rent to pay and you didn’t want to waste it, but for a few weeks – which had been a welcomed change of scenery.

After how your previous semester of uni had ended, the last thing you’d wanted was to hang around the flat.

It had been an uncomfortable summer. The mid-year break, last year, you hadn’t gone home. You’d told your parents it was because of the rent thing, but in reality, it had mostly been about Roger and Brian. A month off uni, and your flatmate Lucy had gone home for the break, meaning you had a free house? That had been a wild couple of weeks.

You shook your head. Stop, you reprimanded yourself. It did you no good to reminisce. You’d had an entire summer to sort things out for yourself, to reset, and it was a bad idea to let yourself slip. You’d barely spoken to Roger or Brian all summer, just to give yourself some space.

You’d missed them. A lot. Maybe cried once or twice. Maybe more. But that was only for you to know.

You doubted that they’d missed you.

The thought still felt like a stab to the gut, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head at yourself. Stop it. Stop.

There was a knock on the front door, and you were momentarily surprised – but you knew it was Veronica. You took a moment to get your thoughts together, then hurried to the door to let her in.

She greeted you with a joyous cry of your name and a warm hug. “It’s been so long!”

The two of you rocked from foot to foot, and you breathed in her familiar smell. You hadn’t seen her since before Christmas.

When the hug eventually ended, Veronica sighed happily. “Can’t believe I’ve missed you,” she said, and you laughed, giving her a backhand slap on the arm.

“Cow,” you said.

“So you’ve kept the same place?”

“Yep,” you said.

“Lucy still your flatmate?”

“Yeah. It works well, so.”

“No, no, she’s lovely,” Veronica said with a nod. “Did she want to come to drinks tonight?”

You glanced towards Lucy’s room instinctively, even though you knew she wasn’t in there. “She’s not coming back until Wednesday, I think.”

“Ah, well, answers that question.” Veronica gave you a smile. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, and you just stood there, waiting for her to ask it.

She sighed again, resigned. She knew she’d been sprung. “I wasn’t going to ask. I– I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“I’m okay,” you said. “I’m fine.”

Veronica squinted at you unsurely, like she wanted to press you for further information, but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Fine?”

“It’s been a bit rough, but I’m okay,” you said.

You’d tell her the truth soon enough. You had no willpower when it came to Veronica. But you weren’t in the mood for a whole conversation right now.

“So you’re all right for tonight?”

You rolled your eyes. “Am I capable of getting drinks with my friends? Yes, I think so.”

“Even though Dani will be there?”

“Brian and Dani have been dating for, like, five months now – and don’t say it like that. Brian isn’t my ex.”

“Roger’s dating someone,” Veronica blurted.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Stop. “Oh?” you said, and it sounded warped and wonky. “Since when? Good for him. Have you met her?”

“Once,” Veronica said. “Just last week, when I dropped by the flat. Her name is–” She let out a laugh. “Actually, this is really funny. Her name is Freddy.”

You laughed. “What?” you squawked. “Freddy?”

“Freddy with a Y,” Veronica said. “Roger made that very clear when I met her. As if that changes anything.”

“God, I bet that’s confusing in bed,” you said.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing the ‘with a Y’ part makes all the difference for Roger.”

“Freddy,” you mused. “What’s it short for?”

“No idea. But she’s not as hot as you are.”

You shot Veronica a mock glare. “Roger isn’t my ex either.”

“Still,” Veronica said lightly. She hesitated, and then said, “Have you spoken to either of them recently?”

“No, not really,” you said, as casually as you could muster. “Look, Ron, could we just… table this conversation for later? I’m not really up to it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Veronica said, waving a hand. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll keep my nose out of it. Let’s just go. Are you ready?”

You took a steadying breath. “So ready,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

Arriving at the local pub felt like coming home. The smell of beer, the roar of conversation, the bundles of people crowded around tables. The floor was sticky, there weren’t enough places to sit, and the prices up on the chalkboard on the wall were far too high.

You scrunched your nose. Coming home sucked.

“I forgot how much I hate this place,” you yelled into Veronica’s ear. “We need to find somewhere less popular, Jesus.”

“I know,” Veronica said. “I’ve mentioned it to John; he thinks the same.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, next time.”

You said that every time.

Veronica corroborated her instructional texts from John with the view in front of her in order to find everyone else. They were tucked away in a corner booth, crammed into the space.

You’d had enough trouble as it was, trying to fit everyone into a booth. You couldn’t even imagine how you were going to make it work with two new people in the group.

Veronica took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as you neared the table.

There was John, at the end of the booth, facing you – his eyes lit up when he spotted Veronica, and began shifting over to make room for her beside him. At the end of the table, on a chair, was Freddie. He noticed John’s line of sight, and he turned to you, his smile wide.

You couldn’t really see the others. Just the back of Brian’s head. But that was hard to miss.

Freddie stood up to give you a warm hug as Veronica tossed around a few ‘hello’s and slid in next to John. “Darling!” Freddie said. “I haven’t seen you all break.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said.

Freddie waved you off. “It’s fine,” he said. “I understand.” He glanced towards the other occupants of the booth.

“Don’t start,” you muttered, and Freddie gave your arm a swift pat.

“Speaking of which,” he said, turning. “Roger, Brian, you remember our dear friend, I’m sure?”

You resisted elbowing Freddie in the side, giving Brian and Roger tight smiles.

At the same time, your eyes landed on Dani and her browny blonde Ariana Grande ponytail and her mouse face and her curvy body pressed into Brian’s side. And beside Roger, tucked under his arm, was a blonde, tanned girl. Blue eyes, like Roger, but hers were light, strikingly so, and a perfect full face of make-up. Her brows were dark and bold, and her lips looked pouty and soft.

‘Not as hot as you were’ your arse. This girl looked like she modelled in her spare time.

Your jaw clenched. You resisted dragging Veronica away by her ear and having a word with her.

Stop it. Stop it.

“This is Freddy,” Freddie said.

“With a Y,” Roger added quickly.

“Yes, with a Y,” Freddie said dryly. “Roger’s new flame.”

“Hi,” Freddy said with a smile. Her teeth were very white. She lifted a well-manicured hand to fiddle with the silver chain around her neck.

You could see the discolouration on her knuckles. Well, at least you knew her tan wasn’t real. That was something. Wasn’t it?

No. It wasn’t. She looked incredible anyway. Didn’t even matter that she was wearing fake tan. What a stupid thing to think.

You introduced yourself.

There was a pause where no one really knew what to say next.

“Hi, by the way,” John said.

Relieved, you gave him a smile. “Hi, John, how are you?”

“Not too bad. Do you want to find a chair?”

God bless John Deacon. “Let me help you,” Freddie said, and you both began wandering through the crowd together, knowing there was no way in hell you’d be able to find a chair.

“How are you?” Freddie asked. “Actually, sod the fucking chair, let’s get a drink.”

“Sounds superb,” you said.

“Try again,” Freddie said when you’d gotten in line. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said. “And you?”

“Good, fine,” Freddie said. “Lonely. I want a boyfriend. Everyone else is in a godforsaken relationship, so I only think it’s reasonable. Look at me, the token lonely, single homosexual in a group of straight people. Right out of an early 2000s chick flick. I may as well start wearing skinny scarves and a vest and talk about how much I love shopping. Do you think I’m sassy enough?”

“Stop it,” you said. “If you start wearing skinny scarves, I’ll strangle you with one.”

“If I start wearing skinny scarves, I’d practically be begging you to,” Freddie muttered.

“I’m sorry you’re lonely,” you said. “I could be your wingwoman, if you like. We could go out together.”

Freddie gave you a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he said. His eyes scanned the chalkboard, as did yours, but it was more habit than anything else. “What did you get up to during the break?”

“Slept,” you said, and Freddie chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Ate too much,” he added.

“Yep, that too,” you said with a laugh. “Never left the house.”

“Except to buy more booze.”

“Or take the bins out.”

Freddie laughed. “Isn’t summer wonderful.”

“Oh, it’s just perfect,” you said, and it came out so bitter, with such a sneer in your tone, that Freddie cracked up. A few heads turned, but they usually did, with Freddie.

“Did you stay here or go home?” you asked.

“Both,” Freddie said. “Mostly here, though. Just wanted to see the family for a while, but I’m far more comfortable here.”

You nodded.

“Did you talk to Brian and Roger much?” Freddie said.

You shook your head. “No.”

That was all.

“Well, shit,” Freddie said. “That’s all just completely fucked, then?”

“It’s fine,” you said. You reached the front of the line, and went to order. Freddie followed you.

You ordered a cider, then Freddie ordered a pint. “What do you think of Freddy with a Y?” Freddie asked as the bartender poured your drinks.

“I’ve barely met her,” you said. “Didn’t know she existed until Ron told me just before we left mine.”

“Jesus,” Freddie said. “You really haven’t spoken to them.”

“No,” you said. “And Roger doesn’t post much on social media, either, so. And Brian posts far too much, so I know way too much about him and Dani for my liking, which is wonderful.”

“I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “God, I’m sorry it’s all gone to shit, I really am. That’s miserable, darling.”

“It’s fine,” you said. The bartender set your drinks in front of you, and you and Freddie collected them, weaving your way back to the table.

“Did you… get around to dating much?” Freddie asked.

“Wasn’t in the mood,” you said.

Freddie said nothing. Message received.

You arrived back at the booth. While you’d gotten a drink, you hadn’t solved the seating problem.

You bunched up next to Veronica. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable.

You met Brian’s eyes across the table. He gave you a warm smile. It hurt. You hated that it hurt. “I haven’t said hi yet,” he said, like you hadn’t just gone three months without seeing or speaking to each other. “How you going?”

“Good, good,” you said, and took a swig of cider. “You?”

“Yeah, great. Get up to much?”

“Not really. Did you?”

“Not too much,” Brian said. “Dani and I took a little trip south. That was nice, wasn’t it, baby?”

“So nice,” Dani said with a cheeky, knowing little grin at Brian.

He shook his head at her, and she giggled, then reached up for a quick kiss.

You knew about the little trip south. Everybody knew about the little trip south. Brian had waxed poetry about it on Instagram for every single day they were away. “So lots of sex, then,” you said.

Veronica choked on her water, and Roger burst out laughing.

You hadn’t realised he’d been listening to the conversation.

Dani’s face was turning tomato-red, and she hid her face behind her hand. Brian managed a good-natured chuckle, albeit a slightly forced one, and you could tell he was rubbing Dani’s knee under the table.

“What, what was the joke?” Freddie said immediately.

“Nothing,” you said, and turned to Roger. “So, Freddy, with a Y, how did you and Roger meet?”

“Bumble,” Freddy said, unabashed. “About a month ago?”

“Yeah, about that,” Roger said.

“Yeah, Ron said,” you said. “That’s nice.”

“So there’s…” Roger licked his bottom lip. “There’s no one you’ve got your eye on, then?”

“No,” you said, uncomfortable. Why would anyone want you? You were messy, you were too much. You were demanding. You were easily replaced.

You took a sip of cider. Stop.

It had been three months, for God’s sake. Three months of no contact, and still you were left with an ugly, twisted feeling in the pit of your stomach after everything that had happened.

None of it had even mattered. You’d always known it had had an expiration date. You were just…

You hated feeling like this.

“Hey,” Veronica said suddenly, raising her glass of water. “Let’s make a toast, shall we? To the new year. To– to passing our classes, and to ramen, and to… fresh starts.”

Everyone raised their glasses, saying something along the lines of cheers, and began clinking their glasses together. You took a moment longer, but joined in.

Veronica met your eyes to clink her glass to yours. “Fresh starts,” she said with a small smile.

You couldn’t quite say it back, so you smiled and nodded, then took a sip of your cider.

You could feel Brian’s and Roger’s eyes on you. You pretended to be interested in something happening across the room.

God, you couldn’t wait for this chapter of your life to be nothing but a bad dream.

#try series #try verse #my writing #queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #brian may x reader #rpf #angst

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wwall-archive · 4 years

Text

Ferelden Royal Wedding

AKA - I do.

Word Count: ~2192

Tagging: @sacredempressnatlyia @belovedsophia @shinypeony @mx-baden @fugitivestogether

~~~

Standing in front of all the mirrors in that dressing room, taking in the loose, flowing, head-to-toe white gown that graced their frame, Wallace was quite relieved to find that they had never been more sure of anything than they were of this. Certainly, their stomach felt like it was doing acrobatics and their mind felt like it was completely fried as a dozen attendants rushed around making last minute changes. But there was no doubt. Only an impatient certainty.

Wallace stepped down off the small raised platform they had been standing on, lifting their chin in a physical embodiment of their mental pep talk.

You're gonna be the best damn queen Ferelden has ever seen, and you're gonna make Alistair proud. And you're finally gonna get to be with him, without fear. That's worth everything.

It was Zevran that had offered to accompany Wallace to the Chantry for the ceremony for security, and as he walked over to greet them with the flower crown and bouquet Wallace had chosen, they felt their heart swell with gratitude for his presence once more.

He handed over the bundle of flowers, made of forget-me-nots and white roses, and had Wallace bend down slightly so as to place the flower crown made of the same flowers upon their head. They both turned towards the mirrors once again.

"You are a picture of grace, my dear."

"You won't be saying that if I trip in front of everyone."

Having no time for their usual self-deprecating humor on this day, he grabbed their hand, "You won't."

Raising their chin and straightening their shoulders once more, they nodded, "I know."

And when some various attendants started yelling that the carriage was ready for them, Wallace knew it was time for their life to change forever, again. And they were ecstatic.

~~~

Wallace hadn't considered what it would be like to see people lining Denerim's streets, waving, smiling, and yelling out blessings for the day.

"You seem... overwhelmed." Zevran's comment came after a period of watching in silence, looking for the smallest of shifts in Wallace's mood. Where he was normally so carefree, he, along with all their friends, was determined to make sure that everything went right today. Everyone knew that Alistair and Wallace deserved that much.

Wallace sat back, taking a break from watching the crowd, "Sort of. It's just that... I hid, for so long. Hid that I love him, thinking myself not worthy of him, thinking that people would shoot me down if I dared to say anything. And now..." They couldn't hold back their tears any longer.

Zev reached out for their hand again, "Hush, don't do that. Those poor servants of yours worked so hard to help you look like this, no need to ruin it." Wallace chuckled softly.

"Yeah, you're right. It's just... a lot. Being able to finally be here. It took me years to work up the courage to even be able to say I love him out loud, and now, in just a few moments, I get to be his, you know? I couldn't ask for anything more than that." Zevran felt Wallace's hands shaking lightly. He brought one up to his face to kiss their knuckles in a soothing gesture.

"If there is one thing I am sure of, it is that no one deserves you two more than each other."

Suddenly, the Chantry bells began ringing outside, as the crowd cheered just a little louder, and they knew they had arrived.

~~~

Zevran got out first to make sure everything was ready, and then reached back into the carriage to help Wallace out. They landed on the ground slightly less gracefully than they would have liked, grateful for the carriage blocking the sight from the crowd.

"Told you I'd trip."

Zevran reached over the brush some hair out of Wallace's face, "But you still look no less stunning, so on that front you were incorrect."

They were quickly approached by Cullen, who would be giving Wallace away, "Alright, everything is all set to go. You need only get into position and say the word."

Zevran softly placed Wallace's hand in Cullen's, "Then this one is yours, for the moment." He turned and gave Wallace a kiss on the cheek, "For luck. Remember how supremely lucky these people are to have you."

"Thank you, Zev."

"What did we say about the waterworks? No more! I'll take my leave before I say anything else that gets you emotional." And so he did, jogging his way into the Chantry to take a seat.

Cullen shifted to stand by Wallace's side, lacing their arm through his, "Is it true?"

"That?"

"That everyone gets cold feet before their wedding? Do you feel ready?"

Wallace thought of what they'd see when the Chantry doors opened, with Alistair standing at the end, waiting. They thought of the way they'd get to hold his hand walking out of those doors after it was done, and the way they'd get to call him "husband," and the way they'd get to call themself "Wallace Theirin."

"Believe it or not, I think I've never felt more ready for anything."

Cullen scoffed in shock, "And here I figured you'd be terrified. Marriage, and being married into a royal family, no less."

"But it's going to be my family, you know? Speaking of, thank you, for doing this."

"How could I refuse? You deserve nothing but your every wish today. And I'm honored to have been your first choice."

"You're too important to me to have any smaller of a role!"

One of the priests popped out from around the corner, "Are you ready to begin, Ser Wallace? It is time."

Wallace nodded with determination, "Let's get this started."

And so with a simple gesture, the doors opened.

The music grew deafeningly loud as the people grew quiet, every foreign emissary completely silencing and turning to watch with patience, while Wallace could still hear friends closer to the front snickering with one last joke to each other. Everyone involved in preparing the space had done a phenomenal job, as it absolutely took Wallace's breath away. They had never seen the Chantry so spotless, and despite being mostly stone and wood, everything almost gleamed. The amount of flowers covering any available surfaces was almost absurd, particularly the large amount of them that lined the aisle. And at the end of the aisle... Maker's breath.

Wallace had been quite sure Alistair couldn't get any more handsome, but standing there in all white, regal attire of his own, they almost thought they might faint. But still, his smile upon meeting their eyes had to be the most radiant thing about him.

Wallace didn't realize until it had been a moment that they were already walking. Unsteady on their feet, they gently squeezed Cullen's arm lightly, trying to signal that they were grateful for his support. He squeezed their arm back. Wallace did their best to keep their outward composure and smile despite the butterflies that seem determined to flip their stomach upside down, and given the smiles from the audience, it seemed they were doing a decent job.

It was when they got towards the end of the aisle that Wallace started truly struggling to keep their composure. They had made sure their friends would be closest to the front of the crowd, and some of their friends were quick to take advantage of that fact. As soon as Wallace was near, Zevran, who had quickly found his rightful place, offered a very obvious thumbs up in support. Isabela stood directly next to him, gesturing at the dress Wallace wore and mouthing, "Sexy!" It took all Wallace had in them not to laugh at that one. Dorian, on the other side of the aisle, made a show of wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively, and she rolled her eyes at him with a playful smile. Most of everyone else was fairly well-behaved, much to Wallace's relief.

And soon, they stood at the end. Their dear friend, Leliana, who had also recently taken her place as Divine Victoria, head of the Andrastian Chantry, stood as officiant, and was quick to offer Wallace a reassuring smile. Cullen gently squeezed their arm once more for comfort, and released them to go take a seat.

Finally standing across from Alistair, it was shockingly reassuring to find tears in his eyes as well. After taking Wallace's hands, he began rubbing their fingers gently, and Wallace almost began crying again at finally being able to feel him.

Wallace didn't pay much attention to what Leliana was saying as she made her way through the official words, and by the way Alistair held their gaze, they imagined he didn't pay much attention either. They stood, getting lost in each other's eyes, and Wallace had to note once more how unbelievably sure they were of this decision they were about to make.

"-have prepared personal vows. If Ser Wallace would like to begin?" They did their best not to startle at being addressed, taking a deep breath and preparing to give the speech they had been thinking about for months.

"Of course." They cleared their throat. "My King, it cannot be overstated just how much you've changed my life. When we stumbled upon each other all those years ago, I couldn't have imagined the effect you would have on me, but I take comfort in the fact that I recognized your brilliance in but a few moments. It is the greatest regret of my life not having embraced you sooner, for you are the best man I've ever known, in every way I can possibly imagine. All I can do to make up for that is to promise now to never leave your side again, and I do. You once said to me that bad things happen when you lead, but I've been following your lead for quite a while now, and I'm quite comfortable doing so for the rest of my life. I'm in awe of you, and I'm certain you're one of the best kings Ferelden has ever seen. I vow, to do my best to always support you in all of your endeavors, and to be the person you can always lean on when the weight of your crown gets too heavy, for as long as you'll have me. That is the least I can do in return for everything you've done for me. In the eyes of the Maker and the people, I love you, Alistair, and I'm honored that you'll have me." Wallace was long past caring about their appearance now, and the tears began to come freely. The words didn't feel adequate for what they were trying to express, but it was the best they could do.

They could see tears coming close to spilling out of Alistair's eyes as well as Leliana spoke once more, "And now for the words King Alistair has prepared."

He cleared his own throat, "Right. Wallace. I love you. Trying to put together words about you, to express this, that was the best I could come up with. Over, and over: I love you. I'm not the best with words, you know that, but that is always true. Having you here with me means more than I can ever say. Our journey has never been the easiest, but the fact that you decided to take it with me anyways is a miracle I am grateful for every single day. I couldn't function without you, I'm sure of that. Having you by my side means... everything, and I can't thank you enough for being willing to marry me, circumstances aside. I vow to make sure you have everything you'll ever need in this life, to repay you for already being everything I could ever ask for. I vow to value you as you deserve. I vow to be the husband you deserve, to the best of my ability. I love you, darling."

Leliana began speaking again momentarily, but her words were a haze once again. All Wallace knew, as tears ran down their face freely, was that she wanted to hug Alistair so damn bad.

"Do you, Wallace, agree to be lawfully wedded to King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden, and to stand by his side as Queen of Ferelden, in service of the people?"

No hesitation. "I do."

"And do you, Alistair, agree to be wedded to Ser Wallace of Ferelden, as husband and King?"

And Wallace knew he held no hesitation either. "I do."

"Then I now pronounce you, in the eyes of the Maker, married, King Alistair and Queen Wallace of Ferelden."

The applause was a roar, but his kiss was still yet louder. Somehow, it held all the words they could not find, all the promises they had shared, and all the years they had waiting in front of them. After pulling away, and meeting his eyes, Wallace knew that this is what they were meant for, and for the first time, they turned to the crowd, hand in hand, without fear.

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